In the Blackhills and the Badlands, it was the spaghetti and the Crazy Creek Chairs. In our first night roughing it together, I expected some rough, awkward interactions, but that was never the case. For what seemed like hours, Kelly and I attempted to boil water on the camp stove to cook the spaghetti. Although the rest of the group was hungry and getting impatient, sitting around together in those chairs brought us all closer together that first night. I don't specifically remember the conversations or the contexts, but what I do remember is that comfort that I felt with everyone. Although we all go to Furman, our lives, our majors, our friends, and everything else are mostly, very different. On that first night, we shed all of the walls we put up to protect ourselves and acted as a family in a way I've never experienced before. That night, I realized how incredible this trip and this team would become.
In the Tetons, it was the hike to the Hidden Falls. Although a beautiful and mysterious force of nature, the most fun part of this hike was the epic snowball fight our team engaged in on my we reached the falls. For what seemed like an hour, it was an all-out war, every man or woman for themselves. I've never a laughed harder in my life. Scanning the battlefield, Elly scaled a rock and dump a whole pile of snow right on top of Kelly, Kathryn and Dr. Suresh made and delivered snowballs rivaling the efficiency of Will Ferrell in Elf, and everyone else had huge smiles across their faces. Although under-dressed and somewhat cold, every single member of the team was having the time of their lives. No cellphone or movie or computer game could recreate the purest form of fun that we were experiencing. I hope that in the future, people will still choose to disconnect from the world and enjoy their fellow man in engaging activities such as snowball fights.
In Yellowstone, it was the last night at our campsite. We sat by the campfire for hours laughing about the experiences we had and the people we encountered. However, what made that night memorable was what happened after everyone retired for the evening. Tim and I, selecting to go to bed later in hopes that we might extinguish the fire via other ways then water (use your imagination), were charged with putting out the fire. Getting impatient for the rest of the team to go to bed, we decided to use the available bathrooms instead. Apparently, after retiring for the night, the Park Police saw our fire still raging late into the night and unattended. Acting like a creeper, the Police Officer (just doing his job I might add) approached the nearest tent, which was a group of girls, and asked them to put the fire out. Tim and I slept through the entire incident. We only heard about it from our disgruntled team members who had not only mistaken the Park Policeman for me playing a prank and treated him rudely but had been unable to get the rest of their beauty sleep. Although it could have been a more serious incident, the experiences were growing the family dynamic of our team with everyday.
In Butte, it was the campground. Remote and unencumbered by human waste and destruction, this was by far our most remote camping outpost. (The first night, we had to ration the toilet paper because the park attendant was nowhere to be found.) But what made this campground great, was the true lack of connection to the outside world. From pumping and filtering our water to closely circling around the fire for warmth, we had become a family. Although only together for 20 days, that's all the time it took. We had abandoned our connection to the outside world (except for the occasional text to let mom know we were okay or hilarious, ratchet snapchat), and in doing so, our team become willing to let each other know the ins and outs of our lives.
On this Rocky Mountain May X, I not only learned about the Geology, the Mineralogy, and the Ecology of the Rockies, I found a new family.
No comments:
Post a Comment