Category: Community

Posted on

The Summer Solstice: A Masochist’s Thoughts About How to Squeezing the Most Out of the Longest Days

by Jonathan Barrett

Sunshine Route, Mt. Hood. Photo: Greg Simons

Fifteen hours and forty-one minutes. That is the length of the day on the Summer Solstice. Not including the extended light of dawn and dusk. The question is how to spend it. Here are a few ideas to be considered as guiding principles. While not everyone has that Thursday off, these principles would work just as well for the weekend warrior on the previous or following Saturday/Sunday.

Pull-off a really, really long climb

Yes, Infinite Bliss in Washington is fraught with controversy, given that when it was bolted, it ended up being in an established wilderness area. But it is a really, really, long climb and as a result benefits from having a really, really, long day to complete it. One would benefit from having the longest day of the year as a matter of fact. At 23 pitches, it was possibly the longest “sport” climb in the United States or Canada when first bolted, but to call it a sport climb misrepresents what the route really is. Although the crux pitches are well bolted, there are run-outs of close to 100 feet. Additionally, if going up takes a long time, you also need to rap the route … 23 rappels. A full day, and full use of the Summer Solstice. Substitute your favorite super-long climb as desired.

Pull off a really, really long approach

Most will climb Mt. Olympus over three days. Approach the 17+ miles on day one. Summit and return to camp on day two. Hike out on day three. But given a really, really, long day, a fit team could conceivably knock it out in “one day.” Consider the following: with some light jogging and fast hiking, you might be able to do the approach in around six hours. The climb to the summit and descent could happen in six or seven hours. Then one just needs to endure the slog out, another six hours. Given the length of predawn and post-sunset light (nautical twilight starts at 3:34 a.m. for that latitude and ends at 10:48 p.m.), a person has more than 19 hours of light, which is plenty of time. Assuming your feet hold up. The Olympics and Cascades are awash in long approaches, so it is easy to pick your poison when considering this use for the longest days of the year.

Fit More Into Your Day

Given that the average Mazama is a working stiff, probably with fairly normal daytime hours, we are generally resigned to hitting our local crags only on the weekends. Evening sessions at the gym have to suffice otherwise. What if the day was a little longer? What about an alpine start to your cragging session? At 3:52 a.m. on June 21, you could be calling “on belay” to your partner and starting up a route at Ozone. Depending on traffic or where you work, this might give you four to five hours of climbing time, more than enough to leave your forearms so pumped you can barely type for the rest of the day. Those that find the early hours horrifying—although it is certain to be much more quiet—can replicate the experience, but after work. With usable light until 10:30 p.m., one could conceivably get a five hour session in after your day working for The Man. The Army is famous for the saying that they do more before 9 a.m. than most people do all day. Now you can say that you are more productive than the Army.

Summit Hood And Be Home For Breakfast

This is one that I have pulled off myself. Sunrise is 5:21 a.m. in Portland on the solstice but from the summit it is a little earlier. You can catch those golden rays reflecting off the Columbia River and lighting up the Eastern Oregon desert and still be back in Portland in time for waffles and bacon with the family. High-five the sun and descend as quickly back to Timberline as possible. With a little jogging, glissading, or skiing, being back at your car by 7AM is totally doable (safety first, of course). Then, when you arrive at 8:30 stinking like sweat, summit, and summer’s first rays, it will be the perfect compliment to breakfast along with some wild blueberry syrup. You can have both: a climbing life and a family life. You just might need to crash in the hammock for an afternoon nap though.

Catch the Best Light, For Longer

Photographers know that sunrise and sunset are the best for capturing the soft dewy light that is so prized in the making of quality images. Consider the fact that civil twilight lasts for 38 minutes on the summer solstice and only 29 minutes on the spring equinox. There is something astonishing about the fact that during this time of year, it’s almost like the Earth is rotating more slowly. This gives the artist thirty percent more time to capture just the right light illuminating the Crooked River and Asterix Pass at Smith Rock or Haystack Rock on the coast. There are some differences between the two times though. In some ways dusk is better because the photographer knows how the shadows and silhouettes are going to fall. All she needs to do is sit and wait for the right moment with the camera in position. In contrast, in the predawn hours, it is much harder to know what shapes, shadows, and textures are going to look like. When the sun finally does appear, having these few extra minutes can be a godsend as the photographer rushes about making final adjustments.

A Long Hike To Avoid Overnight Permits

It is a fact of life in the Northwest that some areas are more difficult to access due to permitting issues. Getting a backcountry camping permit can be almost impossible during the busy periods of the year. The Enchantments is one such place where acquiring a campsite is impossible, but through-hiking is very doable. Over the course of a long day, it is possible to experience all that the area has to offer without having to be encumbered by both overnight gear and regulations. At a skoch more than eighteen miles, the trail through the Enchantments involves 7,100 feet of elevation gain if going from Snow Lakes to Colchuck trailheads and a knee-busting descent down from Aasgard Pass. With stashed bike at the end, it is possible to then zip (relatively) easily back to the car on (mostly) downhill roads. Although Colchuck would likely still be cold enough for a penguin, there is still enough time during the solstice to take a dip and ice your sore feet before grinding out the last four and a half miles.

Posted on

A Night to Celebrate

by Sarah Bradham, Mazamas Director of Marketing & Communications

On April 25, 2018 Mazama members gathered at The Evergreen in Southeast Portland to celebrate. It was a time to come together to honor the achievements of our members, to recognize the dedication and talents of our volunteers, and most importantly, to spend time together.

The evening kicked off with an hour of social time. Attendees were treated to delicious food from Devil’s Food Catering, and an opportunity to enter win one of 20 awesome raffle prize—from backpacks to boots to puffy jackets! The venue was full with Mazamas of all ages and varying lengths of Mazama membership. We had brand new members who had just completed our Basic Climbing Education Program alongside 70-year(!) member Jack Grauer and all durations in between.
The program was kicked off by Chris Kruell who welcomed the crowd to the annual gathering, and acknowledged our new 25- and 50-year members. Chris then passed the mic to Executive Lee Davis who shared details of the Mazamas history with the crowd. We then moved into the volunteer recognition portion of the evening with highlights from our committees and teams, and thank yous for the volunteers involved with those programs.

Thank yous turned to congratulations as we moved into awards territory. First up was Bill Stein, Trail Trips Committee Chair, with the hiking leadership and participation awards. Bill also presented Terry Sherbeck with the Hardesty Cup, an award given annually to the Mazama who best exemplifies the spirit of volunteerism and service to the hiking community.

Larry Beck, Climbing Committee Chair, then came on stage to present the climbing awards. He led off with the Guardian Peaks Award, given to those who have successfully summitted Mts. Hood, Adams, and St. Helens with the Mazamas. This year’s recipients were Teresa Dalsager (daughter of long-time Mazama member Dick Miller), Buzz Lindahl, and Gary Riggs. This was followed by the Oregon Cascades Award, which had a single recipient this year, Buzz Lindahl. The Oregon Cascades Award includes successful summits of Mt. Hood, Mt. Jefferson, 3-Fingered Jack, Mt. Washington, North Sister, Middle Sister, and South Sister. The final climbing participation award was the 16 Major Northwest Peaks award—the crown jewel of climbing awards—which includes successful summits of all of the peaks already listed plus Mt. Baker, Mt. Shuksan, Glacier Peak, Mt. Olympus, Mt. Rainier, Mt. Stuart, and Mt. Shasta. This year’s recipients were Kurt Gusinde, Kim Osgood, Chris Rears, and Lisa Ripps.

The final climbing award was the Terry Becker Award. This is a leadership award, earned by successfully leading the 16 Major Northwest Peaks. This award was first given in 2000, and only 14 leaders have achieved this milestone in 18 years. This year’s recipients Bruce Yatvin and Rico Micallef became the thirteenth and fourteenth awardees.

Howard Buck then took the stage to honor Jeff Hawkins for his tireless effort to get the solar panels installed at the Mazama Mountaineering Center. The solar panel project took more than 10 years to go from concept to fruition, and Jeff was the person who stuck with it all the way. For his efforts he was awarded the Montague Conservation Cup, which “recognizes and honors individuals who have had a significant and lasting impact upon the community through their efforts in conservation” and in protecting the environment. If you want to see the extent of the impact of the solar panels, you can go to beta.mazamas.org/mmc/ and see how much energy the solar panels are producing.

Lee Davis returned to the stage for the biggest awards of the evening. Honorary membership may be bestowed upon “persons who have rendered distinguished service to the club, or who are eminent for achievement over a period of not less than ten years in climbing, conservation, exploration, scientific research or outdoor activities.” The Honorary membership was bestowed upon Dr. Andrew Fountain, a world-renowned glaciologist at Portland State University, for his critical contribution to the scientific discourse about how glaciers worldwide are affected by climate change.

The final award of the evening, the Parker Cup, is viewed by many as the most prestigious award at the Mazamas, and it recognizes members who have distinguished themselves by hard work, ability, and self-sacrifice for the benefit of the Mazamas. This year’s honoree fully embodies these qualities. She served on six committees in her tenure at the Mazamas, including Executive Council twice, and chair of the Trail Trips committee three times! Some of her achievements include expanding the weekly Street Rambles from once to twice a week; leading Mazama members at the SOLV Beach clean-ups for 17 years; leading more than 700 hikes and backpacks; hiking more than 6,000 miles with the Mazamas; and previously winning the Hardesty Cup for distinguished volunteer service in the hiking community. For her tenure at the Mazamas, Billie Goodwin has demonstrated what it truly means to be a Mazama. To lead, to give, to share her knowledge with others, to not only be a part of our community but to have a hand in creating that community, and to help others have the life changing experiences she had when she joined our organization.

To bring the evening to a close 70-year Mazama member and past Mazama President Jack Grauer took the stage to lead the crowd in our long-standing tradition of singing the Happy Wanderer. As the music began to play, the pride of the Mazamas was palpable, and the crowd joined Jack in a rousing send-off to the evening.

Once the official program ended, members stayed to share in each others’ company for awhile longer. As attendees left, each took home a commemorative ceramic Mazama mug.

It was an evening to remember, and one we hope to repeat for many years to come. Thanks to all who came out to celebrate and to be honored for their dedication to the Mazamas.

The True Mazama Spirit

by Sarah Bradham

To encourage Classics members to make the trek to the Mazama Celebration, we offered a shuttle service from the MMC to the Evergreen. Only three Classics members took us up on this offer—Jack Grauer, Ed McAnich, and Billie Goodwin. Mazama staff member Laura Burger volunteered to be our shuttle driver for the evening and drove Jack, Ed, and Billie to the Evergreen. At the end of the event, when her riders were ready to leave, Laura went to pull her car around to make the return trip to the MMC. I came downstairs to say goodnight to Jack, Ed, and Billie and was surprised to find they were no longer waiting in the entryway for Laura to arrive. I rushed outside to see where they had gone, and saw long-time member Flora Huber carefully buckling Jack into her waiting SUV. Seeing the three Classics in the lobby, Flora had wasted no time springing into action to take care of her friends and ensure they got home safely. Taking care of others, and making sure everyone always finds their way home safely—this is the true spirit of the Mazamas.

Posted on

One Last Hood Climb


by Rico Micallef

Since the beginning of March I have had two house guests, Ruth Reitsma and her son Earl. Ruth was a former Mazama climb leader who passed away in November of 2015, and her son Earl passed away December of 2016. Ruth’s daughter’s, Diane and Jan, wanted their mother and brother’s ashes to be distributed on the top of Mt. Hood, and asked the Mazamas for assistance. I was honored to be asked to help fulfill their wishes.

I got to know Ruth through many emails with Diane and Jan, and through photos that they sent to me. Ruth led an all women’s climb for the Mazamas. Ruth’s husband Earl, who passed way in 1965, was also a Mazama climb leader. Ruth and Earl led many Mazama climbs together. I was thrilled when they sent me a picture of Earl’s Guardian Peak award from 1957—when Mount St. Helens was 1300 feet higher!

Diane and Jan recounted how their mother carried sand to the top of Mt. Hood and had a beach party on the summit. I knew instantly that Ruth was the kind of climb leader that I would have enjoyed climbing with.

Diane and Jan and other family members wanted to be on Mt. Hood when the ashes were distributed. They were traveling to Oregon from a variety of locations—Washington, Arizona, and California—so we agreed on a summit attempt on May 5. I was planning to lead a team of 12, primarily my 2018 Basic Climbing Education Program (BCEP) students, up Mt. Hood on their quest for their first Mt. Hood summit. Once we set the day, we prayed for good weather.

Our prayers were answered with a fantastic warm night with little to no wind. I was concerned about the how warm it was going to be and even more concerned about how busy the mountain would be, so I moved the climb start time up to 11 p.m. I told the team that if we maintained a decent pace we would get to the summit by 6 a.m., in time for sunrise. The team rocked it and we were on the summit by 5 a.m. It took us 5 ½ hours to summit.

On our way to the summit we found the Pearly Gates route in the best shape I have ever seen. I thought it was very fitting to bring Ruth and Earl to their final resting place via the Pearly Gates.
We waited for sunrise to scatter the ashes, another fitting piece to this day. The dawn of a new day—in my head I had the song the “Morning has Broken” playing—the song I have told my kids I want played at my funeral.

The climb team donning their Hawaiian shirts on the summit.

As the sun finally began to light the day, we got ready to distribute the ashes. I had told the team that in honor of Ruth we were going to wear Hawaiian shirts on the summit. Fortunately I have an overabundance of them and supplied the team with shirts from my collection. We put on our Hawaiian shirts over or puffies and got ready.

As the new day began, we scattered Ruth’s ashes on the summit while reading a poem that family had placed in the bag with the ashes:

Look to this Day
Look to this day:
For it is life, the very life of life.

Ruth & Earl’s ashes on the summit of Mt. Hood.

In its brief course
Lie all the verities and realities of your existence.
The bliss of growth,
The glory of action,
The splendor of achievement
Are but experiences of time.
For yesterday is but a dream
And tomorrow is only a vision;
And today well-lived, makes
Yesterday a dream of happiness
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.
Look well therefore to this day;
Such is the salutation to the ever-new dawn!

We then spread Earl’s ashes next to his mother. Finally, I placed a picture of Ruth in the middle of the ashes.

After descending I finally got to meet Diane and Jan, where I presented them with a Mazama Climb certificate for both Earl and Ruth.

Climb leader Rico Micallef with Ruth’s daughters post-climb.

Our climb saw eight first time summits. But, this climb was bigger than all of us, and more important than reaching the summit for the first time. As a team, we were united in helping a family put their mother and brother to rest. I never knew either Ruth or Earl, but I felt privileged to be able to assist Ruth in getting one final Hood summit.

Diane and Jan, don’t worry about your mother I will be checking in with her periodically.

p.p1 {margin: 9.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 16.0px; font: 11.0px ‘Futura PT’}
p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 11.4px; font: 9.5px ‘Kepler Std’}

About Ruth Reitsma
Ruth Reitsma was a member of the Mazamas from 1950 along with her husband Earl A. Reitsma. Together they were leader and co-leader of numerous climbs of various peaks in North America. Earl received his 36 peak award and Ruth received her 26 peak award. In June 1966 Ruth lead a successful all-women’s ascent of Mt Hood. Climbing partners included Dave Bohen, Edwin Rieger, Bill and Margaret Oberteuffer, Jack Grauer. Other climbing friends included the Whittaker brothers. A lifelong outdoors women her worldwide travels included living for two years in Afghanistan. Her appreciation of the outdoors was passed on to her children in numerous camping, hiking, skiing, and snowshoeing adventures. Rest in peace.
Posted on

Families Mountaineering 101

Lillie on a Tyrolean Traverse at Horsethief Butte. Photos: Mari Williams.

This was why we were here—to test and challenge ourselves, and to experience that exhilaration and joy together as a family.



by Grace Taylor

That sunnyday in September was the first time I’d seen blue sky in weeks. The Eagle Creek fire had darkened the skies and caused us to cancel the first of our scheduled field sessions with FM101. But this time, a cool, crisp wind had cleared the air for our first outdoor climb.

After learning about the ancient paintings hidden among the rocks at Horse Thief Butte, we split into groups to practice our climbing and rappelling skills in the open air. Lillie, my 13-year old, headed off with a couple young assistants. My 9-year-old son James and I teamed up with John, a more experienced climber, and his two girls.

I’ll admit to holding my breath watching James rappel down 100 foot cliffs. But nervousness turned to joy when he came down beaming—as proud of himself as I’d ever seen him. This was why we were here—to test and challenge ourselves, and to experience that exhilaration and joy together as a family.

When I next saw Lillie she proudly announced she’d climbed all the routes and passed all the tests for her skills cards. At some point Craig, one of the assistants, had us follow him to a route he’d set up near the trailhead. “Why don’t you give this one a try?” he suggested to Lillie. She studied the route and listened as Craig coached her through how to do a lay back. There was nothing easy about this route. She tried a couple of different approaches and struggled in places, but just kept at it until she got to the top anchor. When she was out of earshot, Craig told me that the entrance crack was classified as a 5.10b “I just wanted to know if she could do it,” he said.

These were exactly the moments I’d hoped for when I signed up for FM101. It’s not always easy finding activities all three of us enjoy together. The two kids are different enough in age that their interests and abilities don’t overlap much. We love camping and being active with friends outdoors, but when it’s just the three of us, it’s a lot to manage. And, we all need the company of others to make it fun and motivating.

Lillie blew me away, not only by mastering skills quickly and taking my breath away with her climbing, but by being a leader and a helper for our family. She kept track of our assignments, studied the course material and helped manage our gear.

James did great too. He didn’t always love listening to lectures, going through safety checks or practicing knots. He got frustrated when he forgot a knot or a technical term. All he really wanted to do was climb rocks. And climb more rocks.

Lillie Taylor Steward belaying at Horsethief Butte.

I did my best to keep up with them. Sometimes I scrambled to get gear and lunches packed after a long work week, or skimmed my way through a reading assignment. I showed up as prepared as I could be, and learned a ton. Our coordinators Brian and Kirsten did an amazing job presenting the material in a way that was engaging and empowering to kids.

All the assistants were great, including the kids who helped lead and teach the sessions. All were patient, kind and encouraging. All were competent and clear in giving instructions. When James was frustrated, they helped him keep going. When he stuck with something they gave him praise. When I was losing patience with him, they gently brought him back to focus with playful humor and respectful reminders so we could all succeed together.

I’ve had a great time climbing, and feel ready for more adventures. Lillie has joined a climbing club at the Rock gym. James is ready to climb more rocks and do more camping, and knows that he can learn difficult things. We met lots of great people and kindled friendships I hope will grow over time. All of us want to go climb mountains.

Lillie’s Perspective

by Lillie Taylor

I have been entranced by climbing since I was eight. Watching people scale the reaches of the world’s greatest peaks and hidden wonders has kept me entertained for five years and I have finally convinced my family to jump onboard with me. FM101 has been the perfect way to engage mom and James in something I’m passionate about and hope to continue in the future. After completing this class, I feel ready to complete all sorts new challenges. I have learned how to make myself feel secure on a wall, and put trust in myself and in others. I hope that I can come back to help with future sessions, and intend to become a stronger climber over time. This class was what I needed to feel confident in my own abilities.

James’ Perspective

by James Taylor
I really loved the climbing and the snow session. I liked how at the snow session there was a surprise, and there were a whole bunch of games in Mazama lodge. For the rock climbing part I really liked climbing and belaying.

Posted on

On Mentorship

The membership of the Deerfield climbing club, 1995. Jonathan Barrett is at the top right.
Jim Salem is at the bottom right. Photo: Deerfield yearbook staff.

by Jonathan Barrett

In 2007, I received word from an old high school acquaintance that my first climbing mentor, Jim Salem, had passed away. The news report had said that he had been struck by a passing car while he was riding his bike. That was the extent of the information he was able to give me. Our conversation was brief. Before he hung up the phone, he offered his sincere condolences because he knew the deep and resonating impact that the man had had on my life.

The first time Jim invited me to his home, I was struck by the fact that his shed,where he threw pots, was larger than his house. Some of the vessels, shaped like rotund soldiers, were as tall I was at seventeen. Years later I can still recall their fine-boned structures standing in regimented rows waiting for the kiln. Waiting to be fired. His kitchen’s centerpiece was a wood stove, and herbs hung in thick bunches from exposed beams to dry. At the time, I didn’t know many climbers, or for that matter any besides him who were adults. His home would never have read “climber’s house” in the modern era of Instagram. Instead it whispered haikus about a loving husband and skilled potter, a soft-spoken environmentalist and a conflicted hippie. He was certainly one of the most well-paid staff members at my boarding school because he was the comptroller, but he lived like an ascetic. His art and his connection to the natural world were given pride of place. He split wood for heat, not because it was photo-worthy, but because it was elemental.

He had invited me into his home at that time out of compassion and a growing sense of connection. Jim—although it was always Mr. Salem until I got married—saw in me interest more than potential. While the other kids in our school’s climbing club were satisfied to loll about the base of Chapel Ledge and socialize, I wanted to test myself against every line regardless of the grade. From a cabinet beneath the stairs Jim produced a pair of ice axes which would seem laughable to climb on now. At the time they were beautiful and mysterious to me. That afternoon we top-roped snot-colored frozen drips at a road cut in western Massachusetts. I had never swung an ice tool before,and he was far from a seasoned ice climber himself. The whole experience was foolish, meaningless, and profound. Jim recognized in me a hunger to know what was just beyond the horizons of my own life and was willing to take me there even though the territory was unfamiliar to him as well.

After I graduated from high school, he and I drove north into New Hampshire for a brief foray into multi-pitch climbing and dirtbagging. We slept in the back of his sky-blue two-wheel-drive Toyota because it was cheap and easy. Over twenty years later, the sound of the rain drumming on the truck’s cap is still a resonant tone in my memory. I had felt frustrated that the opportunity would be lost, that the cliff would be soaked. “No point making plans until the morning,” he had said to me. It was neither an affirmation of the fact nor optimism. It was just the truth spoken by a man who lived a truthful life.

At the first meeting of our little climbing club several years earlier, he had distributed photocopied pages from Freedom of the Hills and led us in a knot tying lesson. We also constructed harnesses out of one inch tubular webbing which he assured us would, “pinch the boys” something fierce. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Eventually you may be lucky enough to own a harness.” 

The rain eventually passed and a stiff spring breeze dried the granite of Cannon quickly in the morning. I led every pitch that day while wearing a Black Diamond Alpine Bod harness that was only marginally better than one inch webbing I had worn for my first year. Jim was not a talented climber, so he struggled with sequences that I had felt weightless on. A short finger crack which left me feeling that universal joy of fine movement over perfect stone had him hangdogging through the sequence. This didn’t matter though. Our pack was far too large that day, particularly by our current light and fast standards, but his perspective was not one of speed or grades or sophisticated equipment, but being present. We sat on some ledge for far too long and assembled sandwiches with all the urgency of a Victorian summer picnic. There was a huge, crusty loaf of bread, a mountain of sliced deli meats and cheeses, an entire glass jar of Dijon mustard. It was stupid and beautiful simultaneously. In the place of speed we had a focus on being entirely in the moment.

When I think back on the power of his mentorship, it is clear to me now that I was deeply shaped by his point of view, that climbing was only an element of his life and not elemental to it like it can be for so many self-described climbers. He never aspired to live the life of a dirtbag as we would now recognize it, nor did he want to make it his whole focus. Instead he saw his life through the lens of finding balance. Only once did I ever watch him throw a pot on the wheel, and it was masterclass to witness. His hands which had seemed old and weak in contact with the granite of Whitehorse were confident and steady in contact with the clay. The form never wobbled even as he drew its perilously thin walls up towards his snow-white beard. It found its own center of gravity, its own point of balance against the whirling wheel.

My apprenticeship with Mr. Salem lasted only three years. I left New England and came to Oregon because in that short time his outlook became kiln-fired into my outlook. In that brief span Jim offered me something that I was not sure that I wanted or could even imagine to exist: he gave me the gift of a range of mountains, the Cascades, and the promise that the whole world was not like New England. Mentors work this kind of magic. They stand in a place and offer the opportunity to join them. They say that there is room enough for everyone.

Some years after I got married, I found myself in western Massachusetts with my new wife and time on my hands. An query to Jim about his availability opened up the chance to bring my old world and my new world together. Shelbourne Falls, where he lived, has one notable tourist attraction, the Bridge of Flowers, so when we agreed to meet, he wanted it to be there. I can’t recall Carissa’s initial reaction to this man who loomed large in my life. Surely she was struck by his snow-white beard, glacier-blue eyes, and genuine warmth. The three of us strolled across the bridge that was, at that moment in early spring, still only beds planted with promises to be fulfilled. He and I did not spend the time reminiscing about Chapel Ledges or nameless road-side icelines. We talked about Oregon which was a place my new wife had been to only once. We were thinking of moving there, I told him, but it would be a huge change for us to leave our families behind in Massachusetts. He simply smiled and began to spin stories of living on the Warm Springs Reservation as a economics teacher, of his little apartment which is now a parking lot for a trendy NW 23rd business, and of the iconic image of Mt Hood seen from Portland.

With Jim there was no formal curriculum, no immutable agenda. His life was one of clay, infinitely moldable, always reformable, and yet eternally fragile. The wheel spins, and he held on but never too tightly, neither to his own life nor to mine. Such was both the freedom and security of his mentorship. When my friend offered up his condolences that day in 2007, I think that he had missed the point. He should have instead expressed his joy that I had been given such a rare and transformative gift at all.

Posted on

Learning from Mother Nature at the AdventureWILD! Summer Day Camp

by Claire Nelson, Mazamas Youth & Outreach Program Manager

This year marks the 6th year of Adventure WILD! Summer Day Camp, and its first year selling out in the Portland area! Some of you may be wondering what exactly Adventure WILD! is and how this program aligns with the Mazamas.

Since 2012, Mazamas partnered with Friends of Outdoor School to further our shared goals of providing meaningful, educational outdoor experiences to youth in the Portland area. Adventure WILD! Summer Day Camp is an exciting and evolving piece of this partnership. Historically, Adventure WILD! has served as a fundraiser for the Outdoor School for All campaign, supporting the popular Measure 99 to fund Outdoor School for Oregon’s fifth and sixth graders. With the passage of Measure 99 and funds allocated to OSU for Outdoor School programming, Adventure WILD! plans to become a full-fledged Mazamas youth program. We hope the camp continues to be a resource for the greater Portland area, along with our Mazama members and families.

Each summer, we welcome campers ages 4–10 from mid-July to mid-August for five week-long sessions. Campers experience their urban and wild natural environments through hands-on science experiments, art and play at the Mazama Mountaineering Center (MMC) and Laurelhurst Park.
Every Friday campers get to scale the MMC wall while being belayed by a Mazama volunteer. After all, it wouldn’t be a Mazama program without some rock climbing! This year, we also took three of our camp sessions to the Mazama Lodge to experience the mountain and historic Mazama building in person.

Every week, camp has a different theme, from art and imagination to mountains and glaciers. Campers engage in a number of creative activities including fish printing, constructing fairy houses in the park, modeling the layers of the earth with clay, and watching miniature volcanoes erupt. Campers also play games and just have fun being outside. During the heat wave this summer, a favorite camp game was Drip, Drip, Drop, a version of Duck, Duck, Goose, where campers dump water on each other’s heads!

Many Mazamas are already involved in Adventure WILD! This year four Mazama families joined camp, and we employed two Mazama youth. We also had eighteen Mazamas donate their time to help campers learn the basics of rock climbing and helped them participate in other camp activities. In total, Adventure WILD! brought one hundred and 68 people to the Mazama Lodge to experience the mountain this summer alone.

Youth programming is an important pillar of the Mazamas mission of, …”everyone outside enjoying and protecting the mountains.” Adventure WILD! exposes almost 200 young people a summer to the wonders of the natural world, the thrill of rock climbing, and the wild of our mountain. Experiences like these build a foundation of appreciation that can translate into a love for the outdoors and a desire to get out there and adventure. We can only guess at how many future Mazamas and outdoor enthusiasts come to camp every summer.

Adventure WILD! lets us engage in the community in a new way by offering programming to diverse youth. We also are exposing new families to the wonderful services and classes the Mazamas has to offer.

Thank you so much to the Mazamas community that supported or was directly involved in Adventure WILD! Summer Day Camp this year. We can’t wait for next summer!

We have received several requests for more information on how to get involved with our climbs and classes. If you have any questions about Adventure WILD! Summer Day Camp, please contact Claire Nelson, Youth and Outreach Program Manager, at claire@mazamas.org.

Posted on

Mazama Courses Encourage and Inspire

The Mazamas offers year-round courses in outdoor sport for all experience levels. Whether you are just getting into outdoor recreation, or are a well-traveled adventurer, there is something for just about everyone. Our most well-known series is the Basic Climbing Education Program, followed by the Intermediate Climbing School and finally Advanced Rock and/or Advanced Snow and Ice Climbing.
However, the Mazamas doesn’t stop at the summit. Mountain and Ultra Running Camps, Wilderness Navigation, Nordic Skiing, Ski Mountaineering, Canyoneering, Families Mountaineering 101, and a whole host of smaller drop-in courses make sure that everyone can recreate safely in the outdoors. Our menu of offerings continues to expand and evolve, and can be found on our website mazamas.org/education-classes. Below are some hard-earned lessons learned from past course participants.

Getting Where You Want to Go

by Kristie Perry

Eight years after I moved to Oregon, I finally paid Smith Rock a visit. It was August 2003, somewhere around noon, and the park felt like a furnace. I was on my way home from Bend, having spent the weekend watching the Perseids, drinking too much wine, and smoking too many cigarettes. Through my hangover and the waves of heat, I watched climbers that surely must have been part gecko ascend and stick, ascend and stick, and then dance back down the wall like spiders. No way in Hell you’d ever catch me doing something like that. Ever.

Fast forward to 2013. I’d completed BCEP and summited a handful of glaciated peaks (because what else do you do once you’ve quit the booze and tobacco?). I’d been spending my Friday evenings at PRG with a charming Advanced Rock (AR) grad who thought it was perfectly reasonable to take me there on our second date. Even though I’d never been there before. (He kindly suggested I “rainbow up” the wall.)

And it is November 2013 and I am once again at Smith Rock State Park. For the second time. Ever. With the charming AR grad. And I am standing in front of Honey Pot on the Picnic Lunch Wall.

And I am standing in front of Honey Pot. And I am standing in front of Honey Pot. And I can’t figure out how to get off the ground. Charming AR grad’s climbing buddy gives me a butt belay and up I go. Alan Watts’ Smith Rock guidebook says Honey Pot (5.9, 3 stars) “begins with massive potholes leading to a knobby slab.” I remember none of that. I remember seeing no place to set my fingers or toes. I had no idea how I was going to climb that thing, but I knew I was going to climb it.

I cursed mightily and inched my way up. I pinched nubbins, I stood up on my feet, and I refused to let go. I looked for holds, I committed to moves, and I trusted my body to find the right balance. My heart pounded and my calves twitched. And on my first trip to climb at Smith Rock, I made it to the top of Honey Pot.

I’m never going to lead Chain Reaction. Ever. But sometimes when I get stumped by life, I think about that morning on Honey Pot and I’m reminded that everything I need to solve a problem is right in front of me and right inside of me. And that it doesn’t hurt to ask for a creative belay from a fellow climber. Climbers are always happy to help you get where you want to go.

Interview with Rebecca Ross

by Sue Griffith

High-quality educational programming is a central part of what the Mazamas offer to its members and the community. Each year, prospective students can find classes ranging from one day skill-builders to months long climbing and mountaineering classes. I asked Rebecca Ross, a recent BCEP grad, to share with us how Mazama classes have helped her to climb higher:

SG: Where were you in your outdoors/mountaineering/climbing journey at the start?

RR: I’ve been doing backpacking and hiking for about a year prior to this journey.

SG: What Mazama class(es) did you take and why?

RR: I took the Mazamas BCEP class after learning about it through the Mazama Winter Weekend. I wanted to take the class because I knew it would help me expand on what I already knew from my own personal backpacking trips, but also it would fill in some gaps where I lacked knowledge and experience.

SG: What did you do as a result of the class that you couldn’t do before?

RR: Mountaineering is something that I wouldn’t have been able to do safely prior to taking BCEP. I’ve always been interested in getting into mountaineering, but knew I wasn’t quite prepared to do so. Now I feel that I have a good basic understanding on knowing what precautions are needed to be safe and knowing my own limitations.

SG: What did the class lead you to try that you never imagined?

RR: I don’t think I ever pictured myself summiting mountains until after I completed BCEP. Now I’ve become a mountaineering enthusiast.

SG: How does that new skill make you feel/change your self-image, etc?

RR: I’ve become more cautious because I now know there are serious risks to everything I choose to do. However, I also have a better understanding about safety. I feel more confident in the decisions based on the skills I’ve learned.

Mazama Classes Lead to Unexpected Benefits

Editor’s Note: Josha and I (Sue Griffith) were BCEP classmates. I admired her abilities and engagement with Mazama climbing classes and asked her to contribute her story to the Bulletin.


by Josha Moss

I can’t say that I enrolled in BCEP with hopes of tackling as yet unimagined challenges. I had no ambition in mind other than getting into ICS or Advanced Rock. With no major goal other than learning more about climbing, that initial Mazama class morphed into a strong desire to learn trad and take AR because I really love climbing on rocks and want to share that with my friends.

While working my way through the Mazama climbing program, I not only grew my climbing skills, but also found a new community of friends, which allowed me to grow more authentically in ways I hadn’t really experienced before. Mazama classes provided a space for me to be present, while pulling away from a religious group I had been engaged with over the past 14 years. I loved the spirituality of this Christian group profoundly. I had spent years caring for their children and taking their teens backpacking and hiking. But despite my deep attachment, I found I could no longer tolerate their lack of support for female leadership and their firm stance against gay marriage. This realization came as I finally accepted I would never be attracted to men and recognized the truth of who I really am. I was open and honest about this new understanding with the ministers and elders of the congregation. They told me if I ever “acted on my tendencies” I would not be allowed in a leadership role with the children and teens—an age group I was already limited to since I was categorized as “female.” It was a heartbreaking transition to pull away from this group that was like family to me, despite how unhealthy it would have been to continue to support a community who did not support me, and where I could not live a fully authentic life or be supportive of all kinds of people.

Joining the Mazamas and enrolling in classes was a step towards branching out while still in my comfort zone with outdoor adventuring. At the time, my fear of trusting people made me very reluctant to be part of any organization; but the Mazamas proved a good choice for me. I have just completed AR and cannot express the extent of how enriching and fun it was. Rock climbing has had such a wonderful impact on my life—it provides physical, psychological, emotional, social, and even spiritual benefits. I am pleased with and grateful for where the Mazama classes have led me.

Basic Climbing Education Program Led Me to the Top of Oregon

by Avinash Agarwal

Snow is scary! Growing up in Mumbai, India, I did not see snow until I came to the U.S. as a 22-year-old graduate student. Two attempts at downhill skiing, both embarrassing failures, very quickly convinced me to stay away from snow-covered mountains for the rest of my life.

Fast forward a quarter century, where after living in the Pacific Northwest for a few years, I caught the hiking bug. After many hikes around the base of Mt. Hood with a local hiking group, I found myself captivated by stories from people who loved climbing mountains, and a few who had summited Hood. It seemed like a dream. A sweet, distant dream which would remain distant.

But something drove me to enroll in BCEP this year, which turned out to be the greatest opportunity of my life. The brilliant Mazama climbers volunteering their time, teaching us, working tirelessly for hours to train us, and captivating our hearts and minds with their energy and passion for climbing. By the end of the class, the bubble of comfort and fear was bursting.

A week later, I joined our BCEP leaders and a few other students from our class on a Mt. Hood climb from the south side. While we turned back from the Hogsback Ridge, looking at Devil’s Kitchen’s Headwall, I was sure I had never been to a more beautiful place in my life. I returned home, after being so close to the summit, very sore and immensely enriched.

Three weeks later, on the night of May 27, my friend Doug from the BCEP class and I headed up from Timberline Lodge once again. The climb was difficult, but I could feel the mountain welcoming us and urging us to continue on. Continue, we did, and at 7:20 a.m. we were standing on the summit of Mt. Hood. The first time for both of us and we were greeted with perfect weather, jaw dropping views, the deepest sense of wonder, and unimaginable beauty.

Sharing That First Climb

by Christine Yankel

Do you remember when you first climbed? Craning your neck, the feeling that there was no way in the world you’d make it up ten feet, let alone to the top, but then doing it? Discovering that tiny pebbles can hold you, that you can figure out the puzzle, that you could hold your partner’s fall? We learn so much in Mazamas, but what I’ve liked learning most is how sweet the feeling is of seeing kids have the chance to experience climbing.

As part of youth outreach, volunteers like Sheena Raab organize events so Mazama volunteers can work with kids in youth-serving organizations like Friends of Children and Adelante Mujeres. These organizations do amazing work with kids at risk, giving them skills and support to help them thrive. It’s humbling to play a part in it, belaying, encouraging. At the MMC, area gyms, and under blue skies at Horsethief Butte, the kids climb and learn, support each other, and radiate the joy of learning how much they can do, that feeling you had when you first climbed. We are so lucky to have mountains to climb. We are even luckier to have the chance to share this with others.

It Started at Horsethief

by Ed Conyngham

I attended Basic Climbing School in 1997, hoping to recapture the pleasures of hiking, climbing, and skiing I had enjoyed as a high school boy at Gresham Union High in the 1940s. At age 67, it was a late start for sure but the excitement, fitness, and camaraderie that came with BCS gave me the ability not only to go on climbs, but moved me to take Nordic ski lessons and teach Nordic too. Later I joined the Nordic Committee where I have served for a number of years. It’s been a great run and it all started at Horsethief Butte!

Posted on

Solar Eclipse or Campground Apocalypse?

by Jonathan Barrett
For a state with just over 3.8 million residents, having approximately another million visitors for several days is a staggering increase. As improbable as this is, organizations like Travel Oregon are predicting such numbers. This would be tolerable if these visitors weren’t trying to then squeeze themselves into a strip just 70 miles wide. Then, within that thin strip, only a small fraction of that is easily accessible by roads and has areas conducive to an overnight stay. As a result, many of these feet will be standing on Oregon’s public lands. As you might imagine, there are several serious reasons for concern from the managers of those public lands.


Risk of Wildfire

The day of the eclipse is going to be at the height of fire season in Eastern Oregon. With the tens of thousands of visitors who are coming to camp on public lands, land managers are very concerned about the risk posed by all these additional campfires. Local agencies will be positioned to respond as quickly as possible, but additional traffic on the roads at that time may hinder response time. As a result, campers are being asked to be extremely careful with their campfires. This means never leaving fires unattended, keeping the fires small and contained, as well as making absolutely sure that all fires are extinguished completely. Lisa Clark, the acting Associate District Manager for the Prineville BLM, would urge the public to not have a fire at all. “Don’t plan on having a campfire or a barbecue—bring a camp stove for cooking,” she wrote in her email response to me. Yet, they are realistic about the fact that many will despite prohibitions. As we all know, a single errant spark can lead to catastrophic results when conditions are ripe for wildfires.


Trash

We all have witnessed it: a full trash can with a pile of refuse stacked next to it because there is no more room in the receptacle. Many established areas will have extra capacity for this extra garbage. Jean Nelson-Dean, the Public Affairs Officer for the Deschutes National Forest says, “We hope to provide additional opportunities for people to dump trash on the way in and on the way out of areas.” However in areas where there are not adequate infrastructure and receptacles, there is the real possibility for there to be a substantial problem with litter. Lisa Clark observes that there will be long-term impacts from this waste: “The biggest challenges that we believe we’ll face will be human waste and trash dumping, along with trampling and heavy use in sensitive areas. In addition to planning for increased service in areas where we have toilets and trash cans, we are planning to have staff dedicated to monitoring sites after people leave. The BLM will have to develop a rehabilitation plan—however, we can’t do it until we know where the damage will be and how severe. We’ll manage this much like we develop rehab plans after a wildfire.” Clearly, the best option would be for people to pack out what they pack in.


Human Waste

Then there is the problem of poop. Jean Nelson-Dean says that, “One concern is people not properly disposing of their waste from the RVs and campers because dump locations may be overwhelmed with visitors. If people do dump their waste on the forest it will create both short-term and long-term issues for our public lands.” Like the overflowing trash cans, there is limited capacity for human waste, even if there are extra facilities on site. Many locations will be adding many, many extra port-a-potties to supplement the facilities already there. Unfortunately, many will not use them, even if they are clean and well-maintained. Fecal bacteria can then impact nearby water sources. With limited capacity to manage and maintain facilities, it is possible that restrooms will simply be overwhelmed when they do exist.


Impacts on Vegetation

Clearly there will be legions of people looking for places to camp and observe the eclipse in areas away from other people, either due to necessity or desire. This means that visitors will be traveling on foot and by vehicle into areas that may be sensitive to impact. When asked about differing plans regarding different areas, Lisa Clark said that, “For the BLM, our plans don’t really differ by elevation or vegetation type—instead we are looking early are [sic] areas that could be impacted by motorized vehicles such as wilderness or wilderness study areas. We’ll be looking for areas where we can reinforce our on-site signs or improve gates and fencing so that people get easy direction about where they can or can’t go with vehicles. One of these areas will be Sutton Mountain Wilderness Study Area (WSA) near Mitchell, and also on the mid-line of the eclipse. We want people to find good areas to camp and to leave their vehicles, and proceed on foot into the WSA—and we know that many people coming from outside the area won’t know about restrictions in WSAs. So we plan to do the best we can to get that information out early and at these locations.” Clearly travel on foot is the preferred means of transportation because it has the lowest impact. Education and signage is going to be key to minimizing the impacts. Nonetheless, where there are very few established camping sites on the Prineville BLM lands, none which are reservable, land managers like Clark think that most people will choose to use dispersed camping practices. It is expected that people will probably arrive, discover that the few sites are taken, and then move to an area close by that seems to be able to hold a tent site, whether or not it is actually appropriate. Priest Hole near Mitchell is one such place where there are significant concerns about impact. One of the less noted impacts is also the possibility of the introduction of invasives, like weed species. However, this will only be known long after the crowds have left. Only afterwards will land managers be able to assess the extent of the damage.


Partnerships

Preparing for and resolving these issues has been and will be a collaborative effort. Lisa Clark says the BLM has, “great partnerships with other agencies and organizations in Central Oregon—and we have been meeting together to plan for this event since 2016. Emergency service managers from Deschutes, Crook, and Jefferson Counties have spearheaded meetings with local, state, and federal businesses and agencies; the Governor’s Task Force is coordinating efforts at a statewide level, and the Forest Service and BLM in Central Oregon recently held an “all-hazard” simulation event to practice responses to a variety of emergencies that could happen during the eclipse. This simulation was attended by representatives from five counties, several forests and BLM districts, Oregon Department of Forestry, fire departments, police departments, the Confederated Tribes of Warm Springs, Red Cross, and many more.” Clearly this is an “all hands on deck” scenario. However, what is clear is that success or failure is contingent on whether the myriad visitors decide to either respect the public lands that they are using or behave irresponsibly. Most of these issues are not necessarily new to public lands. Land managers will be moving people from one area to another in the hopes of putting the manpower where it is most needed. Ultimately though, the most important partnership is going to be between the public who will be using the lands and the government agencies charged with taking care of them.


Final Thoughts

Mt. Jefferson, which is under the path of totality, provides a small-scale case study of what the larger picture may look like. It is expected that many climbers will try to summit in order to have the best view. For some, it is “the best spot” to watch the event. The alpine environment is both sensitive to human impact and not hospitable. It has a limited carrying capacity for visitors. When there is a larger than optimal number of visitors, there will be greater problems caused by this friction between what the system is designed to handle and the number of users. Lisa Clark pointed out another such point of friction: “We know we’ll have challenges for example with people wanting to camp at a few campgrounds along the Lower Deschutes River like Trout Creek and Mecca Flats—and at the same time we will have very high numbers of people wanting to launch to be on the river during the eclipse.” Only afterwards will we know the result of exceeding the carrying capacity for these sensitive public lands. We can hope, though, that the public will do their best to minimize the impacts of their presence.

Posted on

Giving Back to the Trails: Mazama Trail No. 625

Every year, the Mazamas organizes work parties to keep the Mazama Trail (#625) on Mt. Hood in tip-top shape. Typically this involves three days of work on the mountain. Participants can help with one, two, or three days of work. Long time Mazama volunteers Rick Pope and Ed Rea led the teams over the three day period.

The Mazama trail is located on the north side of Mt. Hood and is a feeder trail to the Timberline Trail and a great access point for Cairn Basin. This year 63 logs were removed, drains were cleaned out, brushing was completed, and gravel was patched in a rock slide.

In this video, Daniel Terry shares his experience on the last day of the trail work session in 2017.

From Daniel:

“My name is Daniel Terry my partner, Maya Martinez and I are BCEP (Basic Climbing Education Program) 2017 graduates. We had a great time working with leader Rick Pope and Ed Rea to finish the maintenance on Mazama Trail #625.

We helped them finish up the hard work everyone had been working on the last couple days. The trail is looking great now. What a great time! Let’s face it. Where else can I use a two person saw today?

Trail maintenance is not all saws and axes. Long handled cutting shears are used to keep the brush clear off the trail. Rakes are used to clear the trail of debris. So don’t think it is all back breaking work. No matter what job you can do you will have fun.

People from non-Mazama groups helped out. Maya’s Mom Marie Martinez was in from the east coast visiting us over the weekend. She, along with a Meetup group helped out and had a great time “It’s nice because you feel more connected to the trail after helping clean it up.” I could not agree more!

The Mazamas are mountaineering organization with rich ties to the history of Portland, Oregon, and the Pacific Northwest. If you are interested in becoming an outdoors person. The Mazamas are a great group to be apart of. Courses like BCEP help to prepare you to Mountaineer or Rock Climb safely.”

Thanks for volunteering your time on the trail Daniel and we hope to see you out there again real soon!

Posted on

Volunteering in a K9 Search and Rescue Unit

Article and photos by Kevin Machtelinckx

As the Pacific Northwest’s summer heats up and people begin their annual exodus outside, we’re bound to see stories of lost and missing hikers in the Gorge, around Mt. Hood, in the Jefferson Park Wilderness, and many others. Search and rescue volunteers are called upon regularly to provide the manpower for searches that often span hundreds of acres. Although many volunteers have important support roles to perform, K9 units are the ones scouring the forest floors for scents and clues leading to the missing persons.

On a sunny Sunday afternoon, I was lucky enough to sit in on a K9 training session put on by Mountain Wave Search and Rescue (SAR). Brian McLaughlin, Barbara Linder, and Terri Hines, all K9 handlers, gave me a behind-the-scenes look into what it takes to become a handler and participate in these missions as K9 SAR volunteers.

Kevin Machtelinckx (KM): What is your dog’s name, age, breed, and specialty?
Brian McLaughlin (BM): Schooch, 3 year-old Australian Shepherd, air scent.
Barbara Linder (BL): Opal, 3.5 year-old Labrador retriever, air scent.
Terri Hines (TH): Rook, 3 year-old Belgian Shepherd, human remains detection.
KM: What does your dog’s specialty mean?
BM: Scent is wafting off each of us all the time. When outside, that scent is carried by the breeze. So there is an ever-widening path of scent wafting downwind from everybody outside (generally called a scent cone). My job is to navigate the area I’m given to search in such a way that we’ll intersect the scent cone of anybody that might be out there. My dog’s job is to react to that scent cone in a trained chain of behavior that includes following the scent to the subject, returning to me, alerting me that he’s found a subject, then leading me back to the subject he’s found.
TH: A Human Remains Detection (HRD) dog is trained to do just that, find human remains in any phase of decomposition and alert the handler of its location. The dogs are trained to recognize the smell of human remains versus animal remains or any other distracting odor that may be a normal attraction to a dog. They are trained and able to detect human remains on land, underwater, or buried for concealment.

 KM: Walk me through what a dog and trainer have to go through to become certified.
BM: Air scent training begins with what we call a runaway. The first runaways are simply having a training partner wave the dog’s favorite toy in front of him, making a bunch of noise and generally acting a little crazy and animated, and then turn and run away 10-20 yards, turn back around, and call the dog. The dog runs to the subject and is grandly rewarded with praise and play and maybe a treat. Doing this a few times makes running to that subject the most fun and exciting game the dog could ever hope to play. Then when the dog reaches the subject, you start calling the dog back to you to get the reward and praise. Before long, the dog understands that this new variation of the game is great too. Then you ask the dog to alert you somehow (Schooch pulls a special tug-toy off my belt to indicate he found someone) to get the reward and praise. Soon, the dog learns that he needs to do the alert to get his reward. Finally, after alerting, the subject calls the dog back to him, the handler follows him, and it’s a grand party back at the subject. You do this over and over again, and the dog learns to do that sequence of trained responses when playing the runaway game. Then, the subject starts ducking behind a tree when he runs away, so he’s out of sight when the dog is released. As time progresses, the subject ducks further and further aside and hides further and deeper from the last point he was seen. Then the handler turns the dog away as the subject runs, so he can’t see where the subject went at all. I always mark the beginning of the game by putting the search harness on the dog so when it comes out, Schooch knows it’s play time. Soon, there doesn’t have to be a runaway at all – the game has progressed to where the harness goes on, and the dog is ready and anxious to start playing the search game. All the training culminates in a certification test which is a demonstration of your ability to navigate a 120-acre piece of wilderness as outlined on a map with your dog to find a hidden subject within four hours. Dog and handler will have demonstrated their ability to do that day or night, rain or shine, prior to the certification test being scheduled.

 KM: What kind of training do the handlers themselves have to have in order to go out on searches?
BM: In our group, handlers need to be OSSA Type II certified. That means they need to demonstrate the ability to build fire and shelter with what they carry, navigate unfamiliar wilderness areas with map/compass and/or with a GPS, basic first aid and CPR skills, understand the Incident Command System, basic radio communications, search types and methods. You need to carry gear and supplies to enable you to stay in the field for 24 hours with your K9 and potentially a subject. Our group trains anyone that is planning to be in the field on these skills. All K9 handlers are required to have this Type II certification to participate in a search with their dog.

 KM: What would you say has been the most difficult part of training your dog?
BM: What slowed our training down most was my lack of experience in training this kind of thing! Learning how to keep track of where I was and making sure to navigate my dog into potential areas of scent while paying attention to the dog and seeing/understanding his behavior took time. You learn to understand what small, seemingly insignificant pauses, glances, and gestures mean. You learn to see when your dog is trying to work out what he’s smelling and what direction that faint scent is coming from, and he learns that you are encouraging him to do that. As for problems that he had – I guess I’d say that it would be related to chasing squirrels and such (he’s tangled with skunks too!). To deal with that, we would spend lazy afternoons on our back deck, sitting on the loveseat, just watching the world go by until… a squirrel would skitter by on top of the fence. Schooch would leap from the deck and go tearing after that squirrel. I would leap from the deck and go tearing after Schooch! I was very gruff with him —in his face, “NO … NO …,” in a low loud voice. The first time I did that, it kind of scared him, because I generally don’t talk to him like that. The second time (a day or two later), I did it the same way, but he didn’t seem scared—just put out. The third time a squirrel went by Schooch tensed and prepared to jump off the deck, but he paused and looked back at me. I gave him a gentle “no, no.” He turned back toward the squirrel, paused, and lay down. Since then, a gentle “no, no,” is generally enough to dissuade him from squirrels, other dogs, etc. He gets a good round of praise every time my “no, no” results in him standing down.

 KM: How often do you and your dog participate in training exercises?
BM: Our group holds training sessions six times a month. We generally make it to all of them. I also do obedience training more or less constantly—every interaction I have with my dog is within the bounds of my obedience expectations. I also take him places to stretch his experience and his trust in me. For instance, taking him on elevator rides, through a crowded MAX platform, through the hustle and bustle of the crowd waiting to get into the zoo on a Saturday morning, riding on a MAX train, etc. Training like that has resulted in a dog that, when he’s nervous/anxious, is right close at my side. That’s right where I want him if he’s a little fearful or nervous, and I praise him big time for that.
KM: In your opinion, what is the most dangerous aspect of search and rescue for you and your dog?
BL: I don’t like to search in urban areas due to the risk of getting hit by a car because Opal can range out of sight. I have to be careful with her in the Gorge as she could easily cliff out with her focus on searching and not paying attention to the terrain.

 KM: What has been your most memorable rescue, call out, or training event since you started doing search and rescue with K9’s?
BM: My best example was when we were assigned to go up a trail in the Columbia River Gorge and hook up with another trail to follow back along a creek to base. The “trail” turned out to be over rock and scree fields with pitches that required ropes to get through and sections so narrow that you could look down to your left and your right to see cliffs and/or very steep slopes where one wrong step would be very costly. When we were 6 hours in, we had a team member who was struggling a bit with the terrain. We hit snow and decided not to continue. You really need to know your abilities, and it’s always OK to say no. After getting home after that one, I looked up that trail and discovered it is listed as one of the most extreme trails in Oregon. If I’d known that in advance, I probably would have declined, but I’m pleased that the whole team made it back safely.

 KM: What is one thing that you think people don’t realize when they think of search and rescue dogs?
BL: You don’t “buy” a SAR dog … you are a team and you bond from day one. It would be very difficult for another handler to search with my dog as one of the important aspects on a search is the ability to “read your dog.” During a search, you watch closely for behavior changes and work off those behaviors.
TH: When people see the dogs working I don’t think they realize the amount of training that we put into the dogs to get them ready for deployment. It’s typically many days and hours per week and it’s ongoing until the dog retires. While it is a job for the dog, it’s also like a big game to them, even to go out and find human remains.

 KM: Any final thoughts on the bond you’ve developed and shared with your dog?
BM: It’s amazing. Working with your dog—and relying on him—on such a regular basis on a task that has you out in the woods in strange places with your dog off leash, looking for people, and seeing him perform his task in the dark, in the rain, and in the snow, simply because he wants to please you and play the game—it’s amazing. There’s a two-way trust that develops. He trusts that you won’t put him into a situation that will hurt him, and you trust him that he will do his job no matter what. It’s all done for the play time at the end—there’s reward in that for me too.
BL: Opal is a very high drive lab and while we have had challenges along the way due to that drive, it has only bonded us together as a team even more. I love her commitment to work and I’m proud of her abilities and trust her to do her job when needed.
TH: I adopted Rook when he was just under 2 years old so I didn’t get to bond with him as a puppy. He had already been in at least two other households so I really had no idea what kind of life he had prior to me bringing him home. I think training and learning this skill together allowed us to bond faster than if we were not involved in SAR. There’s a lot of trust that is required between a K9 and handler, and without that special bond that you form I don’t believe that you can be a successful team.