tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79568579906640722692024-03-13T03:36:47.595-07:00KROKA EXPEDITIONS NEW HAMPSHIRE-VERMONT SEMESTER 2011600 MILE JOURNEY BY SKI AND CANOEKroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-15481334793075680582011-05-31T20:18:00.000-07:002011-09-23T06:57:18.645-07:00NHVSP 2011 Final Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gssvNH4Y7do/TeWibRJK5NI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/fg7n6PdYnCc/s1600/IMG_0806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Digging the HOLE</i></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">We have settled back into Base Camp life. We have worked, just as hard as ever. Kroka’s new bathroom is founded in “the Hole”, if not finished. We have had an intellectual vacation at the Heartbeet Conference in Hardwick, VT. We have washed in the stream, swum in Gustin Pond, contra danced in Nelson. We are enjoying and sometimes not enjoying the warmth, and we are absolutely not enthralled the bugs, that are eating us piece by piece, though we wage our war with them as best as we can. We are preparing to leave. Bittersweet, this is the end. But even as I know how I will miss our community, we are all ready for new adventures. We are all bringing with us so much new when we now go home, and one of those things is seeing the opportunities in front of us. Thank you all who helped us come to this point, thank you all who enriched our experience – we are grateful.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">NH-VERMONT SEMESTER 2011 – WE DIG HOLES!</span> <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lu Neuse, Semester teacher<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Nate Johnson, Semester teacher</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Thank you Lu and Nate for sharing your love of life with these amazing young people:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Jon </i></td></tr>
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<i> “5 months later, what have I gained? Clarity. Buckets and wheelbarrows and pack baskets full of clarity.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Jon </i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tim</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
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<i> “Sweet awesome craziness! And food.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Tim </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mathilde </i></td></tr>
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<i> “I<u> see</u>, I am opening up to all there is. I wouldn’t have expected <u>this</u> way that I have changed, am changing, but I am grateful. Our days here are getting few, but all days can be as beautifully long and short as the ones we have shared if I just get up in the morning.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i> - Mathilde </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<i>“I often felt dead to the world, lost in thoughts concerning only me. Now I feel alive, more aware of the world around me.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i> - Zane </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<i> “I could list many things I’ve learned, the places I’ve now been, or talk endlessly about the people I now know and love. Or I could simply say that all of this has touched me in a much deeper way than anything has before. The semester has broken me down and reshaped me time and time again, and has strengthened me and formed me into the person I am now. Standing tall and proud with all my community beside me as we reach the closing of our journey.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Sam </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<i> “I like the woods, the woods are really cool, but not as cool as me. I like the trees, but not as much as me.”</i><br />
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<i> “The semester has taught me to live freely and happily.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Julian </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<i> “It is the end of this amazing experience, and the beginning of another.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Bridie </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Jake </i></td></tr>
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<i>“Nothing needs to be concrete, overwhelming or profound.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Jake </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Nimrod </i></td></tr>
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<i> “We had a strict schedule, full of freedom.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Nimrod </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<i> “In 600 miles and 5 months we saw so much, learned so much, met so many amazing people. This semester has taught me that the world is full of beautiful possibilities, pathways and gateways.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Rosa </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<i>“Feeling lost in the busy world, coming to peace and understanding in the forest. Gaining truth and connection.”</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>- Serene </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Last Poet’s Yurt: Mixed Collection</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">When some people hear</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">About letting go</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">They start thinking spiritually</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">About not doing</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Things they should</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">When I hear “letting go”</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I think of standing</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">At the top of</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">A great white mountain</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And letting my skis go</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And trusting my body</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">To know what to do</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">- Nimrod Sadeh</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Always 120%, more pain more game</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">10% pleasure, 15% pain and 100% reason to remember the name</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I will just go, go, go</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Whether it’s healthy or not</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Those who can stop I envy you</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">For that is something I cannot do</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I may pull a muscle or stress a joint</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">But I will never disappoint</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">- Julian </div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Waking through Jetway tunnels</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Industry involved in an</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Epicenter of energy</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Give us what we want</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Mentos, fried chicken</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Top shelf magazine rack, and 2000 miles</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">In under 10 hours.</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Steady stream electrons</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Exchange charge ‘til</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Filament gives out</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">20000 lumen glow</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">So we can see three miles</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">In all directions</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And every bit of our</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Destruction, creation</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Crescendos in</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Three square miles</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Of infrastructure, logistics, consumption</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Sitting down in seat 19d</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">- Jake </div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">They came with a</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Strong presence and large vibrations</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">They come across the stream</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Slithered over our tangled veins</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Threw down their burdens and took all</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Their work</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">They take from us</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">They change the scene, changing the sounds,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Changing the smells, smoke, food, socks,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The odors of a dozen or so unwashed</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Teenagers</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">They change the vibrations</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Slamming axes, dragging saws, moving feet</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Now they are silent, lost in their thoughts</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Them like us are growing</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">But them unlike us are going</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">This is only a stop on the map</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">A moment in a much larger scheme</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Will they even remember taking our boughs?</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And our wood? Probably not. Will they ever</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Come back? Probably not. But for now they</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Love us.</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">- Tobias </div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The water gurgles, chuckles through</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The shrubby trees,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Although the mountain sides</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Are still covered in a thick</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Layer of snow, the river</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Banks and wetlands are clear</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And exposed.</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Here and there a brave shoot pops</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Through, a bud burst into the sunlight</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The silence of heavy falling snow</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Has changed to pitter patter of warm rain</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Although it’s still cold, the birds sing</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The sun shines strongly</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Lifting the world up into a</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">New journey</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">- Rosa <br />
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</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-523124130523914362011-05-27T12:05:00.000-07:002011-05-31T20:44:50.956-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 14<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-417NlZfSn0o/Td_wZ2FMwVI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ru4revx6G14/s1600/IMG_4576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-417NlZfSn0o/Td_wZ2FMwVI/AAAAAAAAAJE/ru4revx6G14/s320/IMG_4576.JPG" width="320" /></a>Dear readers, I went a bit overboard. I hope this extremely long update will be of some interest to the outside eye. It turned into a logbook, which we semester students will have great use of when all these days have blended together into one indistinguishable blob in our memories. You should feel no pressure to read all of it if you don’t want to.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">First I will give you some nice statistics of the Spring Expedition, courtesy of Tim:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Total distance covered: 323,5 km</div><div class="MsoNormal">Average travel day: 17 km</div><div class="MsoNormal">Total distance walked: 109,5 km</div><div class="MsoNormal">Total distance portaged: 36,5 km</div><div class="MsoNormal">Days with no portages: 9 (5 of them liveovers)</div><div class="MsoNormal">Distance paddled on the Clyde River: 9 km</div><div class="MsoNormal">Distance paddled on the Nulhegan River: 17 km</div><div class="MsoNormal">Distance paddled on the Connecticut River: 251 km</div><div class="MsoNormal">Distance lined on the Cold River: 10 km</div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-18tHRu8xPr4/Td_t24Kq5pI/AAAAAAAAAI0/6DE0znbpy9w/s1600/IMG_0599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-18tHRu8xPr4/Td_t24Kq5pI/AAAAAAAAAI0/6DE0znbpy9w/s400/IMG_0599.JPG" width="400" /></a>And now, I present:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">The Spring Expedition!<o:p></o:p></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 1 – Sunday April 24<sup>th</sup> – Tire Pooper Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">The day started with the most epic breakfast of the semester, cooked and served by Jayson Benoit of Northwoods Stewardship Center. Thank you, Jayson! After unbelievable amounts of pancakes, warm maple syrup, yogurt, applesauce and exotic fruits were resting in our stomachs, we left the center behind and set off with amazingly little fuss. We got in our canoes after a small break where I tried to teach everyone the Norwegian game <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Skraava</i> and found them too impatient for it, and then we let Jon, the Canoe Manager, and Nimrod, his canoe partner for the day, have the honor of paddling the beautiful green <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh Geez</i> for the first time. Though it felt somewhat strange to leave this home behind, possibly never to see it again, it was exciting to be on the move again. The water in the Clyde was high, but the river was slow and winding. Sometimes we couldn’t know what was the bank and what was river, and we would get lost in the alder bushes and dead end canals. But Kevin and Joey led the way, and we even had Jayson with us for the first part of this day. In the afternoon we arrived at a good camp spot, and got to test out our new river chores. Rosa is most remembered for her chore this day, as she made the best bathroom of our expedition, out of a pile of old car tires and decorated with a God’s Eye, though the privacy was a bit lacking when we started walking past it to get up to the field above camp. The sun was still up, and all our work was done, so it was a perfect time for games and rolling down hills. There were still patches of snow around, but running barefoot in the fields gave us the feeling of spring anyway.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 2 – Monday April 25<sup>th</sup> – Wintergreen Camp</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FDortYHsmUg/TeJv8lROcoI/AAAAAAAAAKI/86aCmxUxgqo/s1600/ice-jake-tobias.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FDortYHsmUg/TeJv8lROcoI/AAAAAAAAAKI/86aCmxUxgqo/s320/ice-jake-tobias.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jp_pQdZ6MWw/TeJwjkXe5jI/AAAAAAAAAKM/rmZcr8qYGHk/s1600/ice-julian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jp_pQdZ6MWw/TeJwjkXe5jI/AAAAAAAAAKM/rmZcr8qYGHk/s320/ice-julian.jpg" width="320" /></a>Our camp turned out to be next to a beaver path and we had placed our paddles in the middle of it, but luckily Kevin and Joey slept right nearby, so our paddles were still there to use the next morning, even though the beavers had been on a short nightly visit. We continued canoeing up the Clyde in sunshine, though the current got stronger and stronger as the day wore on. Finally we closed in on Island Pond where Tim found a snowmobile STOP-sign in the river that he kept as his paddle for a while. We paddled along the shore around the frozen pond to a camping place where we took out to carry over to Spectacle Pond. Here many of us got the first experience of carrying a canoe solo, with two paddles tied to the yolk and seats in the canoe to put the weight on our shoulders. It’s pretty heavy and gets quite painful after a while, but it works amazingly well, and as we like to say: “We’re the Vermont Semester – Hardcore”. Spectacle Pond was an arctic adventure for Tobias and Jake, first-class icebreakers, and then we got all our gear on land again, in a beautiful pine forest. We ate lunch there before we carried the canoes on a path through the woods to the headwaters of the Nulhegan, then walked back to all our gear and set up camp in the pine forest instead of continuing on. Some rainstorms caught up with us, but we managed to get started with making our bow drill sets, a new art for some of us. This was also our first meeting with the plant wintergreen, a great forest snack.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 3 – Tuesday April 26<sup>th</sup> – Lost & Found Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNBhfz4clT0/TeJpBjPbwBI/AAAAAAAAAJw/LWiywCeu-p0/s1600/tunnel2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNBhfz4clT0/TeJpBjPbwBI/AAAAAAAAAJw/LWiywCeu-p0/s320/tunnel2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-J5oPlRx1E/TeJlkupMdII/AAAAAAAAAJc/aDlXXElmvLI/s1600/snowportage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-J5oPlRx1E/TeJlkupMdII/AAAAAAAAAJc/aDlXXElmvLI/s320/snowportage.jpg" width="320" /></a>We started the day with taking down camp and portaging it to where we had left the canoes. Then we set out on the Nulhegan. It was a misty morning, the river small and surrounded by swamps and woods, fallen over trees everywhere, birds that would sit still ‘till we came close to them. I think we seldom had such a feeling of wilderness as this morning, paddling quite far apart from each other, listening and looking. We were lucky with the high water here, as we didn’t have to get out of the canoes and drag them over all the beaver dams. We could just slip straight over, unlike previous semesters. But then we arrived at tunnels passing under the road and railroad, and some of them posed a bigger challenge, filled with water as they were. One gave just an exciting taste of a tiny rapid, while the next one, which we were planning to line the canoes through, tipped a canoe over and made us portage the rest over the road. That’s when it’s good that you already packed your stuff waterproof. Several side branches joined the Nulhegan as the day wore on, and got bigger and windier. Soon it was just a marathon of s-turns, where we could compete about who could make the tightest turns without being thrown off course by an eddy, or find the short cuts through the elder bushes that made up the banks without getting stuck. In the afternoon we set up camp in a swampy forest that we soon found out they had camped in last year too. Lu found a knife and toothbrush belonging to Scott Georgaklis of the 2010 NH-Vermont Semester. The toothbrush was used by us later when we were in great need, but Jake has now sharpened the knife and it is ready to be sent back to its owner. The rain hit hard this evening and continued all night together with a thunderstorm, but we were nice and dry under the tarps.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 4 – Wednesday April 27<sup>th</sup> – Deaf Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i5hxj_MjIHU/TeJpbqwwhQI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/P3tUOMKy7JI/s1600/ditch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i5hxj_MjIHU/TeJpbqwwhQI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/P3tUOMKy7JI/s320/ditch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Early in the morning we had a lining lesson and prepared our boats for the rapids of the Nulhegan, but we had only paddled for a few minutes before we realized that the river was too high to canoe. The rain had poured down all night and had finally melted the last of this long winter’s snow. Our canoes that we had left on dry land as we went to bed were in the water by morning, and during breakfast the river rose a lot more. We paddled our way towards the road, through a flooded forest and along a flooded road ditch. As the road ascended a hill, the ditch dried out and we started portaging. First all our gear 4 km along the road, and then back again for the canoes. Summer had suddenly hit us this day, and before we ate lunch we took time for a dip and wash in a nearby stream (without getting cold!). Then we portaged everything another km, this time on a narrow homemade trail/bushwhacking, through the forest down to the river. Here we set up camp right by the rushing river, which overpowered all other sound.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 5 – Thursday April 28<sup>th </sup></div><div class="MsoNormal">The morning came with bad news. The river was still too big here and even several km further down, unpaddleable for us with all our gear, and way too cold to risk any flipping. We were on the opposite side of the river from the road, and portaging without a trail would take us days and days. There was nothing to do but to carry everything back up our bushwhack trail the way we had come, and then continue the portage on the road. We carried the gear 4 km, to a campsite almost just across the river from where we had been, but the canoes we carried an additional 2 km, so as to make our work less the next day. We left the canoes in a nice old woman’s front yard and had walked about halfway back to camp when a huge truck drove up to us and an angry man asked us to remove our canoes from his yard. We explained that we had gotten permission and that we just wanted to have them there until we could carry them further. He would have none of it, and interrogated us about what we were doing and where we were camping. We had no choice but to walk back to the canoes and carry them a little further, to a nice guy dog-sitting at his friend’s house who did not mind our canoes in the garden. At this point Kevin and Joey left us, sadly, as we had enjoyed having them around so much. The day ended with last year’s high bush cranberries, picked on the roadside, and an ice cream present from our leaving friends.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 6 – Friday April 29<sup>th</sup> – Woodcock Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5wB2DKWvQRU/Td_uVZhOkvI/AAAAAAAAAI4/eHRqbXR7F0g/s1600/IMG_0806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5wB2DKWvQRU/Td_uVZhOkvI/AAAAAAAAAI4/eHRqbXR7F0g/s400/IMG_0806.JPG" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>To break up the portaging, and wait for the rivers to de-flood a little bit, we decided to take a live over day at our camp. It was spent washing our selves and our clothes, sunbathing (on the girls part - this was probably the most relaxing day of the semester so far), and different crafts. Nate cut down a small brown ash tree, and Bridie, Jake, Rosa and Jon freshened up their weaving knowledge making small baskets that we are selling at the graduation auction. Others carved spoons for the same cause, and then we all continued our work on friction fires. Most of us made fire, and Sam and Rosa almost got it with a hand drill too. The afternoon came with some rain, but we just enjoyed the day off. As twilight came we went out on a woodcock hunt, and managed to get really close up to the funny bird even though we were 14 people, half of us in bright orange rain gear.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 7 – Saturday April 30<sup>th</sup> – Frost Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">We portaged all the gear the 5 km to Bloomfield in the morning, before we walked back for the canoes and carried them the same way. And then, finally, we had reached the Connecticut. We picked up a supply of food left for us at the store in Bloomfield and then put our canoes in the rushing brown flooded river. We seemed to flow by in the fast moving water without any effort. The weather was great and life good. All normal campsites were flooded though, and we just paddled along hunting for anything we could find. We did find a beautiful green halfway flooded field with a dry high spot to hold us through the night. The sky was clear of any clouds and as we went to bed we all abandoned the tarps and slept under the open sky.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 8 – Sunday May 1<sup>st</sup> – Rescue Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vwI26WoUoes/TeJr7n9gFlI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/GIThgUwv4RU/s1600/river-mtns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vwI26WoUoes/TeJr7n9gFlI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/GIThgUwv4RU/s320/river-mtns.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>After the clear cold night we awoke in frozen sleeping bags that quickly melted and left us with wet sleeping bags. But it was another warm sunny day, so we weren’t in trouble. In celebration of May Day, we sang Sam’s May Day Songs, and I translated <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Til ungdommen</i> – To the Youth, to English. We enjoyed the day paddling along, ate lunch in Guildhall where we met Bill, a nice guy who lent us a spigot to fill our water buckets and then ate lunch with us, and then paddled on further. We camped in another big field, and were then joined by some canoers that had flipped further up in the river and were hunting for their canoe. It was stuck between some flooded trees just by our camp, but Julian, Sam, Jake and Nimrod managed to get it unstuck and tow it back up in an intense rescue mission. Zane and Bridie found our first fiddleheads, but they were unfortunately filled with dirt and grit from the flooding. Jake baked us bacon fat and maple syrup bread in our amazing Dutch oven, so we did not lack food. In the evening Zane got to be the first person to bathe in the Connecticut, and was then followed by Tobias, who couldn’t back out of their bet.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 9 – Monday May 2<sup>nd</sup> – Trash Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9ZHAzh_vgg8/Td_vyLXKB5I/AAAAAAAAAJA/EkO--_9He_4/s1600/IMG_4549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9ZHAzh_vgg8/Td_vyLXKB5I/AAAAAAAAAJA/EkO--_9He_4/s400/IMG_4549.JPG" width="400" /></a>Today we met the first Connecticut dam, which for us means shorter or longer portages that break up the days of paddling. We portaged Gilman Dam, and started our journey on the far-reaching Moore Reservoir. It began with a tiny rapid that brought some excitement for all of us, but mostly for Nate and Lu, our teachers, who were in “Oh Geez”, a tiny beauty that is not made for whitewater. At the reservoir we got a strong headwind so we almost got the feeling of paddling the ocean, waves hitting the bow. The paddling went slowly, but we made it halfway over before we decided to camp by an old homestead, now only recognizable by the old stone foundations poking out of the green growth. We were not the first to have camped here, evident by the amount of trash lying around, but we did a nice clean up along with our other chores. Rain clouds were threatening us above from the afternoon on, but they did not release any water yet.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>Day 10 – Tuesday May 3<sup>rd</sup>– Trash Camp<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jVYSIKonZoE/TeJtXLKFejI/AAAAAAAAAKA/aU_EjsQCqTA/s1600/nimrod+shelter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jVYSIKonZoE/TeJtXLKFejI/AAAAAAAAAKA/aU_EjsQCqTA/s320/nimrod+shelter.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We stayed another day at the same place, but each of us took the day to go off and make a new camp somewhat nearby – our own shelters. We knew that the rain would be coming soon so we took our time building a place where we would be comfortable for the night. Everyone took a break to come back to our common camp for a quick lunch and then we left again, not to see any of the others before the next morning. Our only tools were our knives, but we had our sleeping bags and pads this time, unlike in the winter.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 11 – Wednesday May 4<sup>th</sup>– Mud Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">We reassembled little by little for pancakes in the morning, Rosa last as she had taken an almost 12 hour nap and was not planning to wake up before someone knocked on her door. Then we spent the morning touring our homes and telling stories before we paddled on. We had two dams to portage today, Moore and Comerford, and the second provided us with an unbelievably steep grassy downhill that none of us could believe deserved to be called a portage trail. Lacking other choices, we camped on an old railroad bed along the river, and got to experience some high-class mud to live on. The rain, which hadn’t really been bad the previous night, got us good now, and it was wet.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 12 – Thursday May 5<sup>th</sup>– Whirlpool of Death Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">We were just eating our lunch on land, having portaged the McIndoe Falls Dam, when a man came up to us and asked if we were planning to canoe down further on there. Well, we were and said so, and then we where told that in that case he would be reading about us in the newspaper tomorrow. The reason was the crazy whirlpool created by the high water levels, 5 feet deep and quite deadly. We took his warning to heart and proceeded carefully, but could safely get quite close to the mentioned place without being dragged into the death pool. There weren’t exactly any 5 feet walls to see, or a crazy current that would pull us straight in if we rounded the corner, but it was not a place that we wanted to paddle, so we took out and carried around. The river could still be difficult further ahead, considering the high water, so we went on a nice scouting hike through Woodsville. It turned out that this stretch too was unpaddlable, but it was late so we went back to our gear and set up camp.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 13 – Friday May 6<sup>th</sup>– Monster Truck/Helicopter-Peepshow/Eden Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4xH8cUuiSM0/TeJrlYXueII/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Pd7ti11SkEk/s1600/drawing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4xH8cUuiSM0/TeJrlYXueII/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Pd7ti11SkEk/s320/drawing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We portaged our canoes the 2.5 km through Woodsville before breakfast, and then we went back and carried the rest after a good meal. It was as flat a paddle day as any other, but we had a strong headwind that would not let up. Getting where we wanted was suddenly difficult, and we worked hard and then set camp somewhat before planned. We found a nice shielded cornfield and choose a spot of green grass off to the side of it. We had some nice quiet for a few hours before some motors started roaring on the other side of the river. There was nothing we could do about it, so we continued as normal and just wondered about what this could be.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 14 – Saturday May 7<sup>th</sup>– Monster Truck/Helicopter-Peepshow/Eden …</div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ACRkLRAQaDE/TeJlojdy0pI/AAAAAAAAAJg/eYYFtBZjbkM/s1600/baskets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ACRkLRAQaDE/TeJlojdy0pI/AAAAAAAAAJg/eYYFtBZjbkM/s320/baskets.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Groundnuts, Fiddleheads, Ramps, Dandelion Greens</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Another liveover. Beautiful weather, but quite early in the morning the motors where already roaring again. We learned from the owner of our field (who kindly contributed 18 eggs to our food stores!) that a Mud Bogging Race was going on just across the river. Not long after that, a helicopter started flying over our camp, doing loops around the area every 20 minutes or so and getting closer to us every time. There wasn’t much we could do about it, so we continued living our lives even with these sounds of a different world breaking the silence. We spent the day collecting fiddleheads, Japanese knotweed for pie, and going on a forest excursion in the narrow forest between the farmer’s two fields. That turned out to be a great find – one of the richest forests Nate had ever seen, and we went from plant to plant to tree, drawing and learning. Our little haven beside this field was beautiful, rich in all the wild edibles we could have wanted (ground nuts and dandelions and delicious stinging nettles). All in all we had found an extraordinary place for our liveover and the sun kept us warm yet another day.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 15 – Sunday May 8<sup>th</sup>– Crew Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">We left our now quiet Eden behind, and paddled on to Robie Farm, a farm just by the river with a farm store where we supplied ourselves with raw milk, ice cream and cow heart and tongue. We also met Mathias and Nicole, two great Kroka instructors, and Lisl, who spent the day paddling with us. It was a nice sunny day and we paddled along watching the houses by the river and humming our newly learned song “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">don’t build your house too close to the shore</i>”. We camped at Dartmouth College’s organic farm, arriving in the afternoon with plenty of time for enjoying the sun and playing games like capture the flag. Passing us on the river were the college’s rowing teams in practice, coming up and down the river, loudly, and we reflected upon how different our own travel on the river is. Our guests left before the evening, but we had very much enjoyed the short time that we got with them.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 16 – Monday May 9<sup>th</sup>– Fish Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">We set out for Sumner Falls this day, but took some breaks on the way. The first stop was Dartmouth College, where we looked at some huge Elm trees. All Elm trees in America are very short lived, because of the Dutch Elm disease that they cannot avoid, but these have been injected with something that keeps it at bay. We spent some time wandering around the campus, watching different trees, finding basswood leaves(!) and crab apples and eating them, looking at the fresco mural in the reserve reading room and listening to stories from Lu’s time as a student there. It was a nice and fun break, and I will admit that we did enjoy sticking out of the crowd with flowers in our hair, walking relaxedly around and eating from trees in plain sight. We got much amusement from the comment shouted after us as we crossed a street: “Walk faster hippies!” and even more from the talk Nate gave us that evening about how there was no point denying what we are, when we hold hands and sing three times a day and like it. Our next break was at Wilder Dam. We portaged over and were met by a representative from TransCanada, the company that owns most of these dams. It was interesting to learn more about the dams that we have just been passing, and have the opportunity to have all our questions about the topic answered. Then we continued on, finally to Sumner Falls, which we portaged around this time. We set camp right below and across the river from it, and did some fishing and general enjoyment of the sun and warmth.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 17 – Tuesday May 10<sup>th</sup>– Fish Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">Our long awaited, in some cases slightly feared white-water day had arrived. We took a live over to make the whole day a study into a different kind of paddling. Some of us started the day early by paddling over to a good eddy below the falls before breakfast and breaking out the fishing rods. And we caught fish! Tobias, Jon and Nimrod each caught beautiful bass, Tobias two. We kept one and had a nice little addition to breakfast. Afterwards we headed back over to the eddy and the portage trail and were met by Randy Elliott-Knaggs. He had all we could need by way of whitewater canoes, rafts, helmets, wetsuits and paddles. We got in the water, starting with the basics and playing around in the eddies and different currents below the falls. After working on different maneuvers all day, most of us going in the water at least one time, we got our chance to paddle the entire rapid. Because of the high water levels, mostly all stones and such were deep under water, but that also meant that the eddies behind them were gone and we would have to run the full rapid without pause. I paddled a canoe with Randy, Bridie and Tim were together, Jake and Tobias, and then Sam and Nimrod. Rosa, Serene, Zane, Julian, Jon, Lu and Nate were all paddling one big raft. It was quite exciting I thought, and then even more so as I turned around at the bottom of the rapid and saw a flipped canoe coming down. Randy and I went on a rescue mission and got Nimrod and Sam safely back in their canoe with some help from the raft. They had had quite the trip down the rapid without a boat. After a long day, we paddled back over to camp and just spent more time fishing and enjoying life. And Tobias caught another bass.<span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 18 – Wednesday May 11<sup>th</sup>– Glass Eden</div><div class="MsoNormal">The first day of our group solo we set off with flags on two off our canoes. We felt quite the pirates floating down the river unnoticed by most people before we would suddenly come out of the bushes along the river, a strange group of people walking through some town, before disappearing into nowhere, as if they had not been there. The sun was with us, and so was the river and we took it easy and got far. We visited a Sculpture Garden called Path of Life, some town along the way on the hunt for Technu against Poison Ivy, a beautiful spring in the steep riverside, and as we approached camp, we explored a long old stone tunnel under a road and made a rope swing out of a vine. Then we arrived at Jarvis Island in good time, making dinner and setting up camp, but with lots of time for being bounced into the water by Zane on the great super bounce branch that we had instead of a rope swing. Evening fell as we enjoyed our bonfire and each other’s company.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxcDlVrRghk/Td_xNcSc9LI/AAAAAAAAAJI/Af4IkGLbdaY/s1600/IMG_4582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxcDlVrRghk/Td_xNcSc9LI/AAAAAAAAAJI/Af4IkGLbdaY/s400/IMG_4582.JPG" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>Day 19 – Thursday May 12<sup>th</sup>– Poison Ivy Mosquito Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">Another beautiful day. We took off quite early. We paddled along leisurely, knowing we weren’t going as far this day. We found a rope swing under a big bridge and Zane and Bridie took their time jumping in the water while others checked out the surroundings. This was the day of floating naps, and a floating lunch, but still we arrived at camp at one o’clock. A huge field served as our home, where we set up in the corner, just far enough from the edge to not sleep in the poison ivy that surrounded it. We had some time to ourselves, carving, and Nimrod was still fishing. Then some of us slept under the open sky hoping for no rain, while others kept to the tarp.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 20 – Friday May 13<sup>th</sup>– Poison Ivy Mosquito Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">Lu and Nate arrived in the morning and we made the decision that we wanted a live over more than to return to Kroka one day early. It was our hottest day yet, and we spent it learning and drawing more plants, going on a food hunt for nettles and basswood leaves on the other side of the river, and having gunnel wars – a canoe game in the water that thankfully cooled us off. We also learned to make cordage from basswood bark and made ourselves bracelets and necklaces with sumac beads.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 21 – Saturday May 14<sup>th</sup>– Golf Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was time to leave the Connecticut. We portaged around the Bellows Falls dam, through the town of North Walpole, and just after we had put in again we turned of onto the Cold River. Immediately we jumped out, tethered our canoes, and got ourselves up the steep slope of the bank to the road. It was a short walk to the Walpole Creamery – we had some group money to use on local ice cream. After finally deciding our flavors and eating the wonder, we headed back to the canoes, harvesting some more goodies on the way. As we walked along Jon shouted, “If you have a free hand, come grab some food!” and we picked all the nettles and dryad saddle we had hands for. Then we started up the Cold River, sandals and socks on our feet, all wet the moment after we began. It took some work getting the technique of the lining, but we trudged along in the water, more or less cold. Tobias and Jake pulled up on the wrong side of a deep pool as we were having a snack break, so they had a nice swim to get their food. Others of us got fully wet too, less purposefully as we slipped on rocks or stepped in a sudden deep hole. Seemingly long after we had started, we arrived at camp – a quite mosquito infested field, but before we could get anywhere in camp setup the owner of the field showed up and invited us to instead stay in their garden. We continued a little bit further up the stream to a beautiful little paradise with the finest lawn any Kroka student has ever camped on. Jack and Martha Walsh let us cook in their outdoor fireplace and even provided us with the firewood! As evening settled in, we got a visit from Tom and Anna, old Semester Alumni and staff at Kroka this summer, and Lisl, bringing with them milk and a treat of meat. Our hosts also provided cookies and it was quite the feast, even though the rain was pouring and we had a fence hung full with wet clothes and no way to dry them.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 22 – Sunday May 15<sup>th</sup>– Damp/Dog Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal">All of us awoke in the very early morning from the hardest rain we had ever heard drumming down on our tarps. But we stayed dry, and soon fell asleep again as the rain quieted down some. After breakfast we put on our soaked lining clothes from the day before, said goodbye to our so nice and welcoming hosts Jack & Martha, and continued up the river. We would try to walk in more shallow water as we lined the canoes alongside us in the deeper parts, the river would bend and turn, have small rapids or go deep and still so we would jump in the canoes and paddle for a few meters. We took a break by a rope swing on shore, and as we were already fully soaked from the hips down, it seemed like a good time to just jump in. Bridie, Tobias, Zane, Julian & Jake took their turns on the swing, while Tim just leisurely floated down the current. My canoe, that Jake and I hadn’t tied well enough, was also leisurely floating downstream, so I got in with running speed, throwing myself after it in an exciting rescue. Afterwards we did more and then some more lining, only interrupted by a cold standing lunch and later a small portage past the waterfalls at Four Corners, Alstead. We reached our planned campsite early, and agreed to push on, lured by the promise of no more wet lining the day after if we finished it now. Not long after we reached the bridge in Alstead Center, and pulled our canoes out of the river one last time. Luckily we were allowed to stash them right nearby, at a house belonging to Karen, a friend of Bridie’s father. We then journeyed on into the unknown with only our gear. We were walking towards Lake Warren, seeing how much of the following day’s portage we could get done that day, and looking for a suitable campsite in any nice people’s yard or field, which we found just as we were tiring out, at the home of a wonderfully kind lady named Linda.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 23 – Monday May 16<sup>th</sup>– Last Camp</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TFjYrlFfawE/Td_xnQV61xI/AAAAAAAAAJM/2MyRjiFSAcg/s1600/IMG_4732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TFjYrlFfawE/Td_xnQV61xI/AAAAAAAAAJM/2MyRjiFSAcg/s400/IMG_4732.JPG" width="400" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>A day for heroes. Everything still wet as we awoke. After breakfast we carried all our gear the 5 km that was left to arrive at Lake Warren. The up hills dragged on, but we kept on, and it was pretty amazing to see the lake sign as we arrived on the top. Then we walked the 6.5 km back to Alstead where we had left the canoes, and carried them to our campsite. There we had left our lunch, and got a well-deserved break, before we carried the canoes the last 5 km up to the lake. Then we had just a tiny paddle out to Pine Island where we set up camp, ate dinner, longed to use the rope swing but were too freezing cold and wet already, and then ate Nimrod’s amazing Wintergreen Berry Cake, a very high point of his career as Dessert Manager.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Day 24 – Tuesday May 17<sup>th</sup>– Big Yurt Camp = Back at Kroka!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7n1qiiatlcA/Td_yv3bcQiI/AAAAAAAAAJU/SmA7hw038xs/s1600/IMG_4971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7n1qiiatlcA/Td_yv3bcQiI/AAAAAAAAAJU/SmA7hw038xs/s320/IMG_4971.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>We awoke in the cold morning mist, and as we took down our last camp the rain poured down on us. Luckily it didn’t come in the night as Tobias, a voluntary edge-sleeper, was sleeping outside the tarp, having been rolled out of it by the pressure of six people on a slight downhill. Out on the water we sang our goodbye to the spring expedition and paddled the short way to shore. While some people emptied canoes, others kept busy with some last minute fishing, and Nate caught 3 beautiful yellow perches for our dinner. We also got a good look at a turtle in the water.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then it was time to leave Lake Warren behind, and we grabbed all our gear for this last portage, 2 km left to Kroka. It was barely on the right side of drizzling, and we waited for the sun to greet us as we laid eyes on the green fields of Kroka Expeditions, but we didn’t get such a classic moment. Mathias and Elisa enthusiastically greeted us, and then we turned back around to pick up our canoes. One last march and then we paraded up to the carriage barn with the canoes on our heads – feeling, to put it mildly, quite accomplished, even though we knew there were more work ahead.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mathilde Vikene</div><div class="MsoNormal">Spring Scribe, NH-Vermont Semester ‘11</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><span id="goog_128456289"></span><span id="goog_128456290"></span>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-33242327142244670932011-05-18T14:19:00.000-07:002011-05-19T12:25:12.397-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 13<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRdA0hEJUXs/TdQ0WkQ194I/AAAAAAAAAIo/TevLTv1BJwA/s1600/IMG_4753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRdA0hEJUXs/TdQ0WkQ194I/AAAAAAAAAIo/TevLTv1BJwA/s640/IMG_4753.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Home, sweet home..."<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-style: normal;"><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-style: normal;">What should I write now, more than three weeks since you last heard from me? How can I describe all these moments of passed time, all that has passed between 14 people (and sometimes more) and their ever changing surroundings – so many Now-s that I could use more than the time passed to write it all. For now I will have to be short – the end of our spring expedition does not in any way mean the end of our work, and I too want to take part in setting up our homes and taking care of our gear and clothes.</span></i></div></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Icy Spectacle Pond</i> </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">We left from Northwoods Stewardship Center on Sunday the 24<sup>th</sup> of April, on foot, carrying all our gear down to the Clyde River, where we had brought the canoes the day before. Then we departed: pushed our loaded canoes into the water and paddled off, not to return – a strange feeling. We had Kevin Slater with us as a guest teacher for these first five days of the expedition, an experienced canoeist and Maine Master Guide who runs Mahoosuc Guide Service with his partner Polly Mahoney, whom we had already met. Also with him was Joey Becker, their apprentice and a NH-Ecuador Semester Alumnus of Tobias’ semester. We really enjoyed having them with us as they slipped right into our community as if they’d been there all along.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mNvWXjYmG-I/TdQv7tcpa3I/AAAAAAAAAII/oa7KPQJ1_qs/s1600/IMG_0732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mNvWXjYmG-I/TdQv7tcpa3I/AAAAAAAAAII/oa7KPQJ1_qs/s320/IMG_0732.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>Canoeing in the ditch</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">The first two days we spent on the Clyde River, paddling upstream. The current got stronger as the river narrowed, and the second day there were some parts where we had to line the canoes from shore. Then we reached Island Pond where we carried the canoes over the road, full of anticipation of the sight that would greet us. Island Pond was still mostly covered in ice, but we had a nice paddle-way just along the shore where we could get through easily. After the pond we got a taste of real portaging: carrying all our gear over to Spectacle Pond, walking back the same way and then carrying our canoes on the third walk of the same stretch. This was something that we would become very familiar with… Spectacle Pond was partly ice covered and we started paddling along the open edge that got thinner and thinner. Before long our pioneers Tobias and Jake were icebreakers forcing through the arctic on an epic expedition, until there was no way to break the ice anymore. We had to shuffle our canoes on top of it, one leg on either side so we had something to fall on if the ice should break under us. We camped before we went on to our next stretch, reaching the very beginnings of the Nulhegan. Here the river is a trickle in the swamps, hindered by beaver dams and fallen trees, a place seemingly devoid of humans until you suddenly cross under the railroad. We paddled through in the morning mist, watching birds, and feeling the wilderness coming in close. As the river goes on and grows it turns and twists in endless s- and u-turns. We got good practice in steering our canoes and had lots of fun trying to find the best shortcuts through the somewhat flooded banks.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Then we anticipated an exciting day of paddling and mostly lining the now bigger and more rambunctious Nulhegan, with a few smaller portages at the worst rapids. We awoke that morning with the river 2 feet higher than when we went to bed – the rains that had come the afternoon before and lasted all night had done it’s job of finally melting away the last of winter. As we ate breakfast the water rose even more, and out on the water it soon became apparent that we could not go down that river. We set our course instead towards the road, paddling through a hemlock forest (not on a river) before we reached the road ditch where we continued paddling for a while. But we didn’t really have much choice - gear on our backs and in our hands we started portaging along the road. This was the beginning of what turned into our three-day-portaging-all-the-way-to-the-Connecticut (all scientific mile/km numbers will have to wait until the next update as our maps and expedition plan accidentally went on a second expedition out to the main coast in our guitar case). We also had to put in an extra live-over day to wait for the water to go down to somewhat more practical levels. On the day the water level was the highest, there was only 6 inches of space between the river and the bridge where the Nulhegan flows into the Connecticut, which last year’s students paddled under.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3GIFLv1kEQ0/TdQzEWoeq2I/AAAAAAAAAIc/z7u1eWYzhWA/s1600/IMG_4567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3GIFLv1kEQ0/TdQzEWoeq2I/AAAAAAAAAIc/z7u1eWYzhWA/s320/IMG_4567.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>Rope swing adventures</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">A dam on the Connecticut was opened to help decrease the water levels, and then all was finally clear for us to start on our Connecticut journey, though there was still 6 times more water passing through the river every second than on average, and most of our planned camp sites were under water. But the weather was finally with us and we enjoyed warm sunny days floating down the fast moving river, feeling as if we were barely dipping our paddles. We finally got into a rhythm and found time to focus on different things than the paddling, except for the whitewater day we had at Summers Falls with Randy Knaggs from Marlboro College, where all we did was focusing on our paddling technique. You’ll hear more about it later along with lots of other stories, but all in all the Connecticut brought us good warm days of enjoying our life (I almost forgot that we did quite a bit of portaging on the Connecticut River too, but as I said, stories for another day…)</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQsUHHq2HGI/TdQzkMZ9XQI/AAAAAAAAAIg/8dxkOo17mik/s1600/IMG_4620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQsUHHq2HGI/TdQzkMZ9XQI/AAAAAAAAAIg/8dxkOo17mik/s320/IMG_4620.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>Lining up the Cold River<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ddelc-h6ICQ/TdQwcLt805I/AAAAAAAAAIM/H1zvZiv7Fv0/s1600/IMG_0834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ddelc-h6ICQ/TdQwcLt805I/AAAAAAAAAIM/H1zvZiv7Fv0/s320/IMG_0834.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sunny days on the Connecticut</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">For a few days we had a group solo (filled with adventures and floating naps), before we then reached the Cold River below Bellows Falls. It was time to leave the Connecticut, and we put on sandals and socks to start lining up the much smaller river, too shallow to paddle. The river itself wasn’t as cold as the name would suggest, but the rain finally caught up with us and gave a new meaning to the word drenched. It was two rainy days of walking up the river, sometimes on the bank, sometimes thigh-deep in the water and sometimes slipping and falling all the way in, before we reached Alstead and left rivers behind. We were in familiar territory, in a car only a few minutes from Kroka, but we patiently portaged two more days before we again set sight upon our home from January, now green and welcoming and full of life. The Kroka Village is coming alive, summer staff is appearing, and our time feels short. But we are still here and our days are still full (of life and work and learning and crafts and adventures and goofy jokes), and there is still some time before you will all see us out in the world.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0GfyZrPm45U/TdQxfbfw-lI/AAAAAAAAAIU/jwC2bf3jlsM/s1600/IMG_4516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0GfyZrPm45U/TdQxfbfw-lI/AAAAAAAAAIU/jwC2bf3jlsM/s200/IMG_4516.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>On the journey home</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DCG9yL2mDfU/TdQ0BFb8rGI/AAAAAAAAAIk/UVAQpY05gFI/s1600/IMG_4719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DCG9yL2mDfU/TdQ0BFb8rGI/AAAAAAAAAIk/UVAQpY05gFI/s320/IMG_4719.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Last mile of our many portage<br />
</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Until next time, in not very long,</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mathilde Vikene</div><div class="MsoNormal">Spring Scribe NH-Vermont Semester ‘11</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-El9JiFMmYRE/TdQyQXfLFKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/YNyECyMhOXc/s1600/IMG_4520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-El9JiFMmYRE/TdQyQXfLFKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/YNyECyMhOXc/s320/IMG_4520.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>Rafting on Sumner Falls with Randy</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4SXRTVVp7ZM/TdQw3Vir-8I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/GOTSfnrCdek/s1600/IMG_0857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4SXRTVVp7ZM/TdQw3Vir-8I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/GOTSfnrCdek/s200/IMG_0857.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sunset</i></td></tr>
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</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-18296942097719491722011-04-27T11:43:00.000-07:002011-04-27T12:30:30.217-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 12<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blWpoaiRfZg/TbhRuEllfJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/B_L897L4ts4/s1600/Jayson+walk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blWpoaiRfZg/TbhRuEllfJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/B_L897L4ts4/s640/Jayson+walk.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>Jayson Benoit from NorthWoods shares his work with <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>the center's <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>forest management practices</i></span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i> </i></span></i></span></i></span></i></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I shall try to be brief as time is short (though of course it actually stretches endlessly in all directions).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UzH9RXFNX-k/TbhSR7XuvJI/AAAAAAAAAHs/O4MeQ9KY8g0/s1600/Zane.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UzH9RXFNX-k/TbhSR7XuvJI/AAAAAAAAAHs/O4MeQ9KY8g0/s320/Zane.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>The birthday boy</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZANE! We awoke this morning to a special performance by Tobias and Jake, in honor of the birthday boy. Getting out of our sleeping bags we headed straight for the pond, which is now halfway ice free – we had a 6 o’clock appointment with the cold water. Brave souls we jumped in one by one, before taking a victory lap around the pond (on dry land). The spectacle was very much enjoyed by the new 17 year old, and the rest of the audience that each had their turn. Then it was back to work; a trailer to be packed and a big home to be cleaned up, leaving as little trace as possible.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-noLc8D6Z_xE/TbhaIK7SZMI/AAAAAAAAAIA/YB1cP9um1m8/s1600/IMG_4746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-noLc8D6Z_xE/TbhaIK7SZMI/AAAAAAAAAIA/YB1cP9um1m8/s320/IMG_4746.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="316" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>Mathilde receiving advice from Grandfather</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Having Grandfather Ray Reitze (<a href="http://www.oldturtle.org/">http://www.oldturtle.org/</a>) and Nancy Reitze in our community for these days has been a real blessing for us. He shared with us his look upon the world and life, and they had lots of entertaining stories to fill the evening with. Grandfather also made the workshop such a good space as we made our paddles, with no pressure but our own to push us to the finished products. The paddles are shaped by and for our own hands, in cooperation (and sometimes quarrel) with the wood, and we can’t wait to dip them in the water for the first time, not to mention finally getting our canoe on the water.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Among our last days’ finish up work we took time on Thursday for a visit from Polly Mahoney and two of her apprentices and three of her dogs. She held a public slideshow at the Stewardship Center, and captivated us all with the amazing pictures of the 10 years she spent working and living in Alaska’s wilderness. These meetings with people who love what they do give us so much more than I can describe in words. Thank you Polly, and everyone we meet that inspires and sows seeds in us.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jHMV1yikbfI/TbhQ8GTgXvI/AAAAAAAAAHk/o17PWhJe_6s/s1600/hidestretch+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jHMV1yikbfI/TbhQ8GTgXvI/AAAAAAAAAHk/o17PWhJe_6s/s320/hidestretch+2.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hides get stretched and .....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rSExfNkt0n0/TbhQMG19lKI/AAAAAAAAAHg/GmUbZa4k3s4/s1600/hide+acro+Zane.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rSExfNkt0n0/TbhQMG19lKI/AAAAAAAAAHg/GmUbZa4k3s4/s320/hide+acro+Zane.JPG" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">....used as a minitrampolin</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">I can’t not tell you about the weather, so I will briefly say that we have had alternating days with snow and wind and sun and above freezing temperatures. Everyone enjoys telling us that “in a few days it will be in the 70s and you’ll be wearing shorts”, but we have learned that these comments actually mean we’ll get a snowstorm within two days (this has happened very consistently). All three of our teachers have promised us better weather tomorrow (Sunday), but I think it’s best that we just wait and see. If spring won’t come to us, at least we’ll now start travelling to it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We carried the canoes down to the river this afternoon. Our time <i>here</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> has come to a close. We packed our baskets, took our village down yesterday, and our paddles stand ready in the workshop. One more night and then we will be on our way – the Clyde River is waiting, Island Pond, which we hope will melt tonight so we can cross it, the Nulhegan River and then the big Connecticut that will lead us south.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div style="text-align: center;">The night sky invites so many poems</div><div style="text-align: center;">All alone with it. It opens me up.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The dark is good all around me</div><div style="text-align: center;">Unknown, but I am connected above</div><div style="text-align: center;">I don't need any light as I walk these paths</div><div style="text-align: center;">My memory tells me where I have to step carefully.</div><div style="text-align: center;">They are familiar, but even richer in this lack of light.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Rich in emotions</div><div style="text-align: center;">Soon there will be no familiar paths</div><div style="text-align: center;">Soon I will wear a headlamp every night</div><div style="text-align: center;">To see where I step</div><div style="text-align: center;">That is the difference:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Somewhere new every night</div><div style="text-align: center;">No well trodden trails</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is a loss and joy</div><div style="text-align: center;">To leave this home behind</div><div style="text-align: center;">Take our home down, this tent that I have walked into</div><div style="text-align: center;">Each night without much thought of it</div><div style="text-align: center;">Rhythms I have made, unknowingly letting myself settle</div><div style="text-align: center;">As easy as that</div><div style="text-align: center;">We are taking down this village, everything we</div><div style="text-align: center;">Have built - these that are my landmarks of</div><div style="text-align: center;">This place - so permanent in my memory that they</div><div style="text-align: center;">Could be here forever, could have been here</div><div style="text-align: center;">Always, even though we ourselves set them up.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Journey on. We will go on.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And the stars will be above me wherever I go.</div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Wish us all luck!</div><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IOdpQ38WJbA/TbhS5nqt6LI/AAAAAAAAAHw/-8TWkADcX3U/s1600/yoga_sun+Serene.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IOdpQ38WJbA/TbhS5nqt6LI/AAAAAAAAAHw/-8TWkADcX3U/s320/yoga_sun+Serene.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Serene is praying for SUN</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iprHRk6NiGg/TbhZxZSMo9I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dhkydLz4VIw/s1600/chopping+Bridie+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iprHRk6NiGg/TbhZxZSMo9I/AAAAAAAAAH8/dhkydLz4VIw/s320/chopping+Bridie+2.JPG" width="320" /></a> <o:p></o:p></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XWAAzoS7m64/TbhY2xxX41I/AAAAAAAAAH4/FdfASg76wto/s1600/chopping+Bridie+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XWAAzoS7m64/TbhY2xxX41I/AAAAAAAAAH4/FdfASg76wto/s320/chopping+Bridie+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Bridie intensely working on bucking up wood for NHVSP 2012<br />
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Mathilde Vikene, Spring Scribe, NH-Vermont Semester ‘11</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-79243201815934253712011-04-20T13:30:00.000-07:002011-04-20T16:30:16.682-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 11<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SPYebV9zm3I/Ta8ypsSYTTI/AAAAAAAAAGo/cv5EYDYqTuU/s1600/IMG_0594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SPYebV9zm3I/Ta8ypsSYTTI/AAAAAAAAAGo/cv5EYDYqTuU/s640/IMG_0594.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A warming fire at Andy and Tom's </i></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>Kroka’s NH-Vermont Semester ’11 is touring the Northeast Kingdom! You gotta go see them! They’re great! Magnificent! What a band!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IH6mHMUtEaE/Ta8-H_i1H0I/AAAAAAAAAHE/ImKmndaPyi0/s1600/IMG_0537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IH6mHMUtEaE/Ta8-H_i1H0I/AAAAAAAAAHE/ImKmndaPyi0/s320/IMG_0537.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i>Jack Lazor of Butterworks</i></div></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Thursday morning we loaded up the van after a real Ecuadorian breakfast. Sleeping bags and pads on the roof, and people and food inside – all tight and cozy. Maybe not what a world famous band would go for, but great for us. We were leaving our primed but unpainted canoe behind, holding just memories now of our good times with Scott and Elisa, who left us last Wednesday. We were ready for new adventures, ready for “vacation”. And so we went- down the driveway, west and south, moving a lot <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">faster than we usually do.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq4KILjOi3U/Ta80CJ-7n1I/AAAAAAAAAGs/ly7es6P_xGc/s1600/IMG_0523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq4KILjOi3U/Ta80CJ-7n1I/AAAAAAAAAGs/ly7es6P_xGc/s320/IMG_0523.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The solar barn at Butterworks </i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>Our first visit was to Jack Lazor at Butterworks Farm in Westmore, VT (</span><a href="http://www.butterworksfarm.com/"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">http://www.butterworksfarm.com/</span></a><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> ). If its name doesn’t tell you, Butterworks is an organic dairy farm that makes heavenly good yogurt. In addition to the dairy, Jack grows all the cows’ food. He also grows a lot of other grains and beans, which he processes in his own granary. Jack showed us all around the farm and told us his inspiring story. We were amazed by his solar barn, a 60x120’ see-through tunnel for the cows, where they live on several feet of straw bedding, which builds up throughout the winter. The barn was so light and good-smelling that we wanted to be cows there ourselves. We also wouldn’t have minded staying just to cuddle the small cute calves a bit longer. Afterwards, we were taken to the granary for some practical work. We had good fun with a bean sorting machine before we climbed the stairs up to the highest tower. It gave us an amazing view all around. We could see to Canada, much to Serene’s delight. We left Butterworks even more cramped up in our van, having bought some good food for our river trip directly from it’s birthplace – sun flower seed oil, spelt flour, cranberry beans and whole oats (and maple yogurt for a snack in the parking lot).<o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Next we visited Sterling College in Craftsbury, VT (<a href="http://www.sterlingcollege.edu/">www.sterlingcollege.edu</a> ). We were welcomed by Stephanie George, Assistant Director of Admissions, and Deborah Benson, a Sterling student who has done Kroka’s Ecuador Semester in 2008. We were happily surprised by a visit from Rosa’s good friend Susanna, also a Kroka semester alumna. Stephanie and Deborah showed us around Sterling’s farm, where we saw enough cute baby animals to melt anyone’s heart. We jumped into practical work with building compost piles and learning about draft horses, Deborah’s specialty. Afterwards, we ate a great dinner in their dining hall (some of the students had already heard rumors of our eating abilities, so we couldn’t let them down), followed by our presentation for the students and faculty (with an improvised dance from Zane).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s-0-VtS3Pzs/Ta82p3YnusI/AAAAAAAAAG0/EzSwOoxj2uI/s1600/IMG_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s-0-VtS3Pzs/Ta82p3YnusI/AAAAAAAAAG0/EzSwOoxj2uI/s400/IMG_0560.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Deborah Benson, NHESP '09 alumna and Sterling student, sharing<br />
her and work with horses</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>It was just getting dark as we arrived at our last stop for the night. We were sleeping over at Andy Paonessa’s place. Andy is a former Vermont Semester teacher who lives in a little village of wall tents and root cellars on his friend Tom Rowell‘s farm. It was really fun to see how he has made the life we are currently living (in our wall tents) quite permanent. He has built a great home with everything he needs. When we arrived in the evening we went ahead with making stakes and putting up tarps by a couple of apple trees on top of the hill – one of the few places that hadn’t been recently flooded. It was our first night sleeping all together under the tarps (instead of in the tent), an especially momentous occasion because one was newly made by Tobias, our wonderful sewing manager. We crawled into our sleeping bags, a long row of invisibly colorful cocoons in the dark, snuggling together in the windy, clear and cold night.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_9shXhwtFzY/Ta8wha4exuI/AAAAAAAAAGg/lvR3L-4mhZE/s1600/IMG_0571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_9shXhwtFzY/Ta8wha4exuI/AAAAAAAAAGg/lvR3L-4mhZE/s320/IMG_0571.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i>Tom Stearns at High Mowing Seeds</i></div></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"></div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The next morning dawned just as clear. As Julian and Tim huddled around the cooking fire, the rest of us had a long morning meditation. We went up into the field above and looked at the beauty of the world and climbed some trees. Then we played a fun game of “everyone’s it”, a tag game that had us all running around and dodging. Tobias developed a technique of throwing himself at peoples’ legs, which did him well, and was thus copied by others – but the morning frost made sure we weren’t rolling around in the mud, for all was solid. After testing out our new whole oats for breakfast, we piled into the van again. We drove to High Mowing Organic Seeds (<a href="http://www.highmowingseeds.com/">http://www.highmowingseeds.com/</a>), a seed company in Wolcott, VT. None of us really had any thoughts about seeds beforehand, but we learned that they could be more interesting than we would ever have imagined. Both Tom Stearns’ story of how he started the company as a small money making hobby when he was 19 years old (and now he now has over 2 million customers and is fighting Monsanto in court and yeah…) and what we were taught and shown about seeds and his business, was really fascinating. By the time we were back in the van again we were mostly nose-deep in the “2011 High Mowing Seeds” Catalog, and I’m warning you parents that you might get seed-crazy kids back home in June, wanting to sow 20 different types of tomatoes in your garden.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">From there we went to Pete’s Greens (<a href="http://www.petesgreens.com/">http://www.petesgreens.com/</a>), “Vermont’s Four Season Vegetable Farm” in Craftsbury, VT. It is a big organic farm that grows vegetables and some animals on their own, and also serves as a distribution center for other farms’ produce. They have a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) that serves 350 households. They also sell their produce to restaurants and stores. In addition, they make value-added foods like tomato sauce, applesauce and other products from produce with “blemishes” that can’t be sold directly. We were welcomed and given a tour before we got our hands on some practical work (we like that). We transplanted lots of tiny plants, before we did a big green house shuffle, moving different greens into new green houses. This was a different world than we have been in lately, warm and oh so green. Jake and Zane were made to suffer in one of the warmer green houses, having to stay in the unbearable heat and put all the plants we shuffled into the right spots. Afterwards several of the boys had a great time playing cows, grazing of the tasty “weeds” growing along the inside of another greenhouse. Julian though didn’t follow the cow-standard, doing push-ups while eating greens every time he came close to the ground. As we were finishing up we got our reward of getting to pick all these weeds that would just be given to the chickens anyway. We stuffed our big bucket, and have been munching as many greens as we could all the way ‘til lunch yesterday, four days later (I’ve been somewhat worried that we could get sick from being let out onto the green grass too quickly, like horses). We were also given 50 lbs of dried apples. Thank you Pete’s Greens!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">As we left the green houses, the temperature had luckily risen in the outside world too (sunny and at least above freezing), and we were all hit by a spring fever. We stopped in Hardwick for an ice cream treat, and Nimrod, our expert dessert master (and finance manager) went inside, the rest of us found a bridge to jump up and down on while Tim got a 5 foot stick to play the Pooh game with. Nate and Rosa found a few new twigs that can’t be found on Northwoods’ grounds, and after enjoying our ice cream we were ready to head back to Tom and Andy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sam rasping his paddle</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>We had some extra time before dinner that day, and though is was colder up in the hills where Tom’s farm is, the sun was still shining, and we spread out across the fields and woods – Tim, Jake & Tobias went exploring up the stream in the woods; Serene, Jon & Rosa went exploring beyond the field, finding a horse to spend time with and running around barefoot in a spring mood; Julian & Bridie each found their own places to relax enjoying the amazing view and sun, while Zane relaxed reading through his whole book; Nimrod & I went burl hunting (and were later joined by Jake & Tim back from expedition), which ended as a good hunt for all the boys while I still can’t seem to have luck with my burls; Sam explored the woods too and also found himself a burl, finally hit by the fever now a month after the rest of us. Then we gathered up for a feast together with Tom and Andy: Hamburgers with local meat from Tom, amazing cheese to put on top from a friend of Andy’s, salad from Pete’s Greens with goat cheese from Hardwick’s co-op, and finishing up with apple- and berry pie with maple yoghurt from Butterworks around the bonfire in the dark clear night. I don’t know why we are so food crazy when we eat so many amazing meals, but thank you everyone who stands behind the glorious food we eat (people, animals, and big nature herself).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKp_dnrqGEs/Ta83vCyI55I/AAAAAAAAAG4/A6gArUPa_40/s1600/IMG_4702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKp_dnrqGEs/Ta83vCyI55I/AAAAAAAAAG4/A6gArUPa_40/s200/IMG_4702.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>Mathilde quality checking her paddle</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The next morning we set the course north and headed home – though the time looms closer that this won’t be our home anymore. Five more days is all we have got before we set out on the river, and though we look forward to it, we have also entertained thoughts of just hibernating and waiting for the real spring to come (suggested by Serene), or doing a building project up here while we wait around for the ice to melt (suggested by Sam).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> I wanted to write to you about how the beaked hazelnut finally started blooming last Sunday, and Rosa came up and showed me a perfectly magenta Mohawk sticking out a bud. But then the next morning after we stuck our heads out of the tent we saw the world covered in a new inch of snow. It did melt again the same day, and we seem to have a little rhythm going of about 22 F in the morning and evening, and then getting above freezing and starting to melt away our paths of snow in the middle of the day. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">It is getting less snow all around, but we are also getting more impatient. My conclusion, this spring is a melancholic, unable to decide upon anything, so slow and deep thinking that it can’t get half of what it should do done.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRXIdZvOETQ/Ta9pi3vYFVI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Amj-m_VahBk/s1600/IMG_4698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="293" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SRXIdZvOETQ/Ta9pi3vYFVI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Amj-m_VahBk/s320/IMG_4698.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Grandfather Ray Reitze and his wife Nancy Reitze have arrived, and we practice our listening skills as we try to imprint in ourselves as much of his wisdom as possible. Our paddles are on their way, and we practice working <i>with</i></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> the wood. And I’ll practice my patience, though I really just want to experience the pleasures of spring and warmth with these amazing people.</span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: right;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Until next time, the best wishes for you all,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Mathilde Vikene<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Spring Scribe, NH-Vermont Semester ‘11<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Julian at work with the hides</i></td></tr>
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</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"><u>Poet’s Yurt<o:p></o:p></u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">“We feel like the loggers of the old North, waiting for the ice to break up so we can ride the melting winter back down to our southern home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">- Sam<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><b>The Good Life<o:p></o:p></b></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><i>Essay by Jon Cox<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Everything is beautiful<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> interesting<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> wonderful<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> welcoming<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> exciting<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> What is my picture of the good life? I am tempted to say it’s five acres way out in the hills, a log cabin, a sugar bush, a garden, some apple trees, a stand of oaks, some pigs or goats, maybe a milk cow and of course a beautiful girl. Maybe some beautiful friends nearby. But I know that’s not really the heart of what I’m after. I know I could have all that and be a ball of suffering, wrapped up in fear and doubt or anger and frustration. Always wondering what I might loose, what I should have or could have, wanting that one last thing to complete the perfect picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> What I am really after is peace. Deep peace. I want contentment, to be in this moment for want of nothing. I want to breathe deeply and easily like a wise man, to conquer fear and to swallow my insecurities. Nirvana, you know? The impossible I guess, but I’m not too picky. I’ll settle for gradual progress. When I look back at where I was six months, a year, two years ago, I get a lot of peace knowing I’m where I am now.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> I know, or should I say I believe, that peace comes from within. That with introspection, mental discipline and practice we can choose how we react to life events. That we can step back and choose happiness in face of despair. But I’ve also seen how much my physical life impacts my state of mind and how it makes sense to shape it to my benefit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> So it is not that I feel my personal salvation lies in growing my own food or building my own house. It is that the more I take charge of my own sustenance, the easier it becomes to foster feelings of satisfaction and contentment. While it may be entirely possible to live a happy, satisfied life in the 21st century suburban landscape, I have found such a life to be very elusive. Modern systems provide the kind of comfort that invite laziness, shun appreciation & diminish relationships. Laziness in turn invites guilt, self-doubt and lack of worth. When you heat with wood the cold kills the laziness and brings the satisfaction that comes with a full wood stack. How can anyone truly appreciate running water when they’ve never carried full buckets uphill from a stream or dry socks when they’ve never walked all day through wet snow? I used to underestimate the power of appreciation. I knew I took many different things for granted, but I didn’t understand the richness and depth my life was lacking as a result. It’s easy in the modern world to become cynical and see only the dark side of everything and that’s just what I did. I saw only how things were bringing me down and never how they were holding me up. As a result I became closed up and guarded and lost much of my excitement for life. As I’ve come to appreciate more things like the clothes on my skin and the trees standing around me, the world has begun to open up again as a rich and wonderful place where most everything is a gift that in some way enriches my life.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> There are those that have found freedom and peace in a prison cell, but since I have the choice I would rather do my work under an open sky, where the people and things around me reinforce the positive and diminish the negative. The other night, while looking up at the sky, I thought of all the people that never see the stars and wondered how that affects the course of their lives. So many times I have been rescued from a downward spiral, by just a glimpse upward on a clear night, or the sight of fresh snow covering the bows of a spruce forest, that I know whatever shape my good life takes, it will happen in the midst of the untamed forest and under an open sky.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GvpeSbfx-tA/Ta9opPsjbtI/AAAAAAAAAHM/8gFxhRVetEY/s1600/IMG_4456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GvpeSbfx-tA/Ta9opPsjbtI/AAAAAAAAAHM/8gFxhRVetEY/s320/IMG_4456.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Zane hard at work</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i>Sorting beans at Butterworks</i><br />
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</tbody></table></div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-28535626911543367422011-04-13T08:36:00.000-07:002011-04-27T12:24:50.915-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 10<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nfK6lF54oB4/TaWulbectoI/AAAAAAAAAF8/_8mNT-EBSyM/s1600/IMG_0514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nfK6lF54oB4/TaWulbectoI/AAAAAAAAAF8/_8mNT-EBSyM/s320/IMG_0514.JPG" width="320" /></a>Hey there. Do you hear that pitter-patter? The rain drops colliding with the roof? I can hear them even here, in this hard-house where I sit typing on a computer. In our village a few hundred meters from here, we are even closer to the weather. As it drums on the cotton sheets above our heads, we speak louder, trying to have our voices heard above nature, but then there is a brief white flash penetrating all walls of our thin building and a moment later the thunder, and we can not do anything but be quiet, listen, and let something else speak.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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It is a time for great rain, great thunder, great postholes, and a great canoe. Spring is arriving. We do not need to live on our faith in it anymore; we can see it with our own eyes. With the building of our canoe, we finally fell into a daily rhythm again. We have morning and afternoon chores, and divide ourselves into canoe groups and big job groups, switching after lunch. The building process of the canoe has gone by faster and easier than we expected, maybe because we are so many hands to help. Scott is a great woodworker and is guiding us steadily along together with Elisa Schine, his assistant, who is working for Kroka this spring. They are both wonderful, funny, and capable people. We are enjoying having them in our community so much.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The first day when we arrived at the workshop for canoe building, we were met by the sight of the mold: a canoe shape upside down, not hollow like a canoe would be, mostly solid, made out of wood with broad flat metal strips running down it every quarter foot or so. We began the work of bending narrow ribs of white cedar, hot out of the steam box, around the mold and nailing them to the inwale. After we had a full ribbed canoe, a skeleton of what was to come, we could begin the planking. Long, thin, but broad planks, also of white cedar (a naturally rot-resistant wood), would be bent, sawed and planed to fit in their place horizontally along the canoe (almost like a big wooden puzzle), and then nailed to the ribs underneath with small brass tacks. The tacks go through both pieces of wood and hit the metal of the mold underneath, which make the ends of them bend back into the wood and lock.<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9urtHQDsPFg/TaW031ggHuI/AAAAAAAAAGU/RpynSIzeUTc/s1600/IMG_4524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9urtHQDsPFg/TaW031ggHuI/AAAAAAAAAGU/RpynSIzeUTc/s320/IMG_4524.jpg" width="213" /></a>We then got to take the canoe of the mold, turn it right side up and take in the sight of our creation, all beautiful lines and fresh white wood with the smell of the forest. Then there were several bits and pieces that needed work, stern and bow and outwales and decks and thwart and handles and also clinching all the tacks of the planking – hammer them in a bit further while holding a clinching iron to the inside of them to make sure nothing was poking out on either side. Then there was a whole lot of sanding to do before we were ready for varnish – and now today, the canvas. All along Jake and Nimrod have been caning (a type of weaving) the seats enthusiastically, and Tim and Nimrod had the honor of carving their art onto the decks. Now we just need some filler and color on that canvas before the beauty is done – and she sure is a beauty, all the girls and guys of this semester are going to fight (very nicely) over her – we just can’t help this attraction.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tBlMFQOUI9k/TaW183WA68I/AAAAAAAAAGY/hDSb_ttfvZw/s1600/IMG_4567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tBlMFQOUI9k/TaW183WA68I/AAAAAAAAAGY/hDSb_ttfvZw/s320/IMG_4567.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
We have also found time for some special evenings this week. Northwoods Stewardship Center screened the film Mother Nature’s Child (<a href="http://www.mothernaturesmovie.com/">http://www.mothernaturesmovie.com/</a> ) last Friday with the director Camilla Rockwell there to present and speak about it. It tells about the effect of nature on humans, especially children and adolescents, and Kroka and the NH-Vermont Semester 2009 feature heavily in it. We all found it quite amazing to see ourselves from the outside this way, for it was so familiar it could just as well have been us, and I think we all saw even clearer how right it feels that we are doing this. Saturday night we had a bonfire dinner: first walnut bread on a stick, and then roasted deer ribs from the road kill Chris brought us with rice and vegetables. Sam had dug us a fire pit, so we had the fire on the ground and sat on the three feet snow banks around it, having our evening meeting there just as it was getting dark, before moving into the tent for an evening reading of “Northern Borders”.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sunday was a day that needs its own paragraph. We had heard rumors of warm weather coming, and though we had eaten some nice picnic lunches (in Julian’s soccer pit) the last few days, this was the day it really hit us. We got some good chores done in the morning, and as time for breakfast arrived the sun was shining and we couldn’t eat inside. Sunday is our day for “relaxing” here at Northwoods. So, taking advantage of the good weather, after breakfast we were going canoeing for the first time. We got ourselves ready, but had to wait for some time – time that was used wisely on sunbathing, sun praising and stripping of layers to let that glorious sun lick our white skin. Then we got down to the Clyde River where Elisa gave us a paddling technique lesson before we got on the water. It was sunny, beautiful and amazingly fun. We felt quite like pioneers as we broke through bridges of rotten ice that were in our way.<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XR9UEB60IxQ/TaWw3aEE7HI/AAAAAAAAAGE/1JjtkjSx9vU/s1600/IMG_0520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XR9UEB60IxQ/TaWw3aEE7HI/AAAAAAAAAGE/1JjtkjSx9vU/s320/IMG_0520.JPG" width="320" /></a>Then we had to turn back round, but with fresh longing for that day when we won’t turn, but just continue, up that same strip of water and then down another river. We came back for a memorable egg salad lunch in the soccer pit, before we had a bit of camp clean up, followed by free time until dinner, a strange concept for us. When did we last really have free time? We declared ourselves 30 minutes of free time for burl hunting or napping on the group solo on the third leg, but since then? What to do with it? Some sewing repairs got done and some showers were taken, but quite a bit of big job work got mysteriously done too (though there was also some letter writing and delectable guitar playing happening). Dinner that evening ended with an amazing dessert of Nimrod’s homemade Apple Strudel with ice cream donated from Scott and Elisa (who have learned that the way to our hearts is our sweet teeth). We finished up the evening with movie night, watching “Alone in the Wilderness”, a picturesque movie from 1968, following a man building his own home in the wilderness of Alaska.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgphBT4vgkQ/TaW_7nCeJ-I/AAAAAAAAAGc/pdRKFba2i5Y/s1600/IMG_0482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lgphBT4vgkQ/TaW_7nCeJ-I/AAAAAAAAAGc/pdRKFba2i5Y/s320/IMG_0482.jpg" width="240" /></a>Many of us have been building too, in our big job time, and hopefully Zane and Rosa will soon have finished setting up our new fancy toilet, though Zane might be distracted by us badgering him to carve a yolk for our water buckets, and Rosa similarly by the competition she and Nate are having to see who can collect and identify the most different tree buds. Julian has been building scraping stations for his buckskins, and after having soaked them in mysterious mixtures of water, ash and who knows what else, he is now urging us all to sign up for buckskin-scraping in our big job time. Tobias is building our spring homes on the sewing machine - tarps that will protect us from the heaven’s waters as we rest our tired bodies on our next expedition. He has also made the prototype for our packbasket liners, so as soon as we get ourselves together and sew our own, we can carry our stuff safely in the rain.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GdVVsn-uQLg/TaWsnJ6kAYI/AAAAAAAAAF0/bmnKhWmA_cI/s1600/IMG_0468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GdVVsn-uQLg/TaWsnJ6kAYI/AAAAAAAAAF0/bmnKhWmA_cI/s320/IMG_0468.jpg" width="240" /></a>Jon has set up our little sugaring house (which isn’t actually a house, but an outdoor sugar boiling tank), started his own little sugarbush that is running happily and has turned out almost a gallon of syrup (mostly from local bought sap) for the pleasure of all of us. Tim has been building our journey, lining up maps, planning our campsites and writing the expedition plan, as well as starting an art project of a Vermont map. Sam has been baking sourdough bread, running up and down to the food storages several times daily for different supplies and trying to hold off our insistent badgering for in-between-meal-snacks. Nimrod has been supporting our sweet teeth with heavenly baking of different kinds, experimenting with the first generation of maple snaps, as well sharpening all our planes and drawknives. Jake has also been on the experimenting front, working with rocket stove building and trying to figure out how we can best cook our meals on the river, as well as repairing our lanterns and thereby finally giving us some soft light in the evening-dark tent. At this moment he is building our outdoor fireplace, where we will hopefully soon be cooking in 70F and shorts. Bridie has been out in the woods gathering bark for her experiment, and spends hours in the kitchen making salves to heal scrapes and sore muscles. Serene has been planning our food for the canoe trip, as well as making delicious treats like granola and sauerkraut. And I have been weaving another basket, a long thin cylinder to protect our fishing rods when we’re travelling. And now I’m imagining I’m hanging out with you.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The only thing that can hold us down is this aggressive cold that keeps going around and make people sleep in their work time, but soon we’ll be over that too. The rain got us in a good mood, but now it has stopped, which might mean the sun will be shining soon, and that won’t make us sad either.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until next week, all you wonderful family and friends and relations and acquaintances and people out there in this big and small world, live your lives and now that we are happily living ours,</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mathilde Vikene</div><div class="MsoNormal">Spring Scribe, NH-Vermont Semester 11’</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-90804299533026253102011-04-08T13:49:00.000-07:002011-04-27T12:27:32.757-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 9Hello to all our Dear Parents & the world out there!<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I want to start my work here by thanking Nimrod for <u>his</u> outstanding work. His updates have kept some of your urgent questions at bay, and in general we seldom laugh as much as when Nimrod delivers one of his lines – he has made even Nate bend over, short of breath from the giggles. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It has barely been a few days since we saw many of you, so this may be old news, but for those who missed out on all the fun, here is some for you.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D7sHR1P8ZhU/TZ9i2zplycI/AAAAAAAAAFM/KKFctn1_5LQ/s1600/IMG_0484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D7sHR1P8ZhU/TZ9i2zplycI/AAAAAAAAAFM/KKFctn1_5LQ/s320/IMG_0484.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard at work planning for the spring</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal">We skied up the driveway of Northwoods Stewardship Center on Wednesday the 22nd of March, and did not have time for rest. Even though trail life was over we still had to live, and build ourselves a camp. We began with digging, a lot of digging, before we had room to set all our tents on the ground. Our home now consists of four wall tents and our expedition tent – the big one is our kitchen and meeting room, and there is one for the girls, teachers and guest teachers each, while the guys have our old home. Only after this did we have time to finish up the last part of our Big Jobs – with practical things, like washing and drying hundreds of Ziplocks for Bridie, and academic pages to reflect and give some words of advice for future students. We could then let go off it all with a last presentation for each other and let all stress and frustrations flow away with laughter. I will bring a bit of it out to you here, for your enjoyment or confusion, and so you may learn something might not have known about your child (or friend etc...)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The Eating Awards</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Classic Frosting Mix-Up/King of the Spice Spill” Award goes to … Jake!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Tiny-Bite-Taker” Award goes to … Bridie!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Chocolate Chocolate Chocolate Chocolate Chocolate” Award goes to … Nimrod!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Indecisive Count-Offer/Oh no, I didn’t Get Jam on my 4ths!” Award goes to … Mathilde!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Thank God the Big One Eats so Little” Award goes to … Nate!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “What a Trooper” Award goes to … Sam!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “I Put Hot Sauce in my Oatmeal” and the “Attack of the Snacks” Awards goes to … Tim!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Big Mouth, Little Stomach” Award goes to … Zane!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Average Eater” Award goes to … Jon!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Eats like a Fat Man, Looks like a Stick” Award goes to … Rosa!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Feed the Hungry Boys and Rosa/Come from Behind, Eat Like a Beast” Award goes to … Serene!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Weak Stomach, Big Heart” Award goes to … Lu!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">The “Boy Wonder/Bottomless Fiery Abyss” Award goes to … Julian!</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>And the one who has been watching our eating habits is Tobias, and though he didn’t award himself a prize, we can clearly see that he has been an observant food manager.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, to Big Jobs. “Finally, spring!” we thought as we arrived here, and though we have now put the winter behind us in mind and work, nature has not yet answered our call. It is still snowing as we take our first steps in our new Big Jobs. I hope that they will eventually fit us as well as our old jobs did – like wearing in a new pair of leather boots. Here are the exciting results:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XmBXHj7bILw/TZ9jRp5oPwI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/kbMRxl7-dkk/s1600/IMG_0490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XmBXHj7bILw/TZ9jRp5oPwI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/kbMRxl7-dkk/s400/IMG_0490.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So there, I shall stop being anonymous and present myself. Hei mamma og pappa! Hi everyone’s super nice parents! This is Mathilde speaking, and I shall be your window into our lives for the rest of this journey – I hope it will be to your satisfaction.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NndN8xdwnv4/TZ9sZTgr81I/AAAAAAAAAFw/kvfNnC3rcmk/s1600/IMG_4382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NndN8xdwnv4/TZ9sZTgr81I/AAAAAAAAAFw/kvfNnC3rcmk/s320/IMG_4382.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bridie and her beautiful family</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Back to the goings-on. Parent Weekend came upon us, as did a very snowy storm, on April 1<sup>st</sup>. Too busy reuniting and telling <u>true</u> stories of our exciting adventures to make anybody a fool, we all had a great evening – some going out to eat dinner, and others staying for the potluck at Northwoods (figuring that it was enough to have us push their car up the driveway once that evening). The next day the amazing food fest continued at breakfast and dinner, but in between there everyone had some time for whatever they wanted with their families (which also often involved good food, and I do believe good conversations, and good hugs and for some, good music). Even Serene and myself, as the orphans, did not feel put out at all – thank you so much for your wise words, contagious smiles, great food and coffee, generosity, and parental love. I appreciate it so much!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7fl1PEDaoqQ/TZ9mupqRjYI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PCd_uYGJcf0/s1600/IMG_4397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7fl1PEDaoqQ/TZ9mupqRjYI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PCd_uYGJcf0/s400/IMG_4397.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Knapps, the crew, and the baskets</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span>As good byes and well wishes were exchanged that Sunday, our new guests arrived and we had no time to feel down before we were back at work. Chris Knapp had come back to us, this time with his wife, Ashirah, and their children Owen and Bonnie Bee. We were ready to start making our pack baskets, and Ashirah had the knowledge and patience we needed to reach our goal. The week before we had gone down on the other side of Clyde River and cut a big ash tree that we brought home. Then we spent days pounding the growth rings of off it one by one with mallets, under Chris’ instruction, and stripping these into the widths we needed for weaving (with some good help from our families over the weekend!) The weaving began right after the parents left, and though the next few days were spent mostly indoors, we all enjoyed it a lot more than we do our academics. We also had great entertainment in the toddlers running around, Owen well taught to snatch our tools and give them back to Ashirah when we weren’t treating them the way we had been told. Soon enough we understood that basket weaving is a challenging art, and not everyone ended up with the shape they thought they were making, but we all ended up with real beauty between our hands, made by our hands. Tuesday afternoon it was time for the Knapps to leave, and we waved sadly goodbye – Chris, and now Ashirah (and those maple syrup-honey-vanilla icecream-fig bar-chocolate sweet kids), have been an important part of our semester and we are incredibly thankful for everything they have shared with us.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NGEJZ8vPhg4/TZ9nvz9Y6BI/AAAAAAAAAFg/IE5prYFn2B0/s1600/IMG_4424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NGEJZ8vPhg4/TZ9nvz9Y6BI/AAAAAAAAAFg/IE5prYFn2B0/s320/IMG_4424.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mathilde and Scott</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">Now only one day has gone by, but we are deep into building our canoe with Scott Barkdoll of Skywoods Canoes. (You can see his work at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0e774a; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;">www.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0e774a; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;"><b>skywoodscanoes</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0e774a; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 15px;">.com)</span> It is exciting to see the boat take shape, and we can’t wait to see the finished river-runner. Meanwhile, we all struggle with putting our pack baskets down and dream of creating sleeping bags with room to sleep with our baskets on.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b>Poet’s Yurt of Thank-Yous</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">To our Loving Parents</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thank you for your gracious, welcoming smiles, hugs, and heaping dishes of food. Your loving support held us close through those days. You were there in times of need and sorrow, to lend a comforting hug and wise words. You were there in times of joyous connection, to share a laugh with.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Many thanks! </div><div class="MsoNormal">- Serene</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rgfyqyiq4zs/TZ9k2r3SeLI/AAAAAAAAAFU/8gzp5AF8uHU/s1600/IMG_4080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rgfyqyiq4zs/TZ9k2r3SeLI/AAAAAAAAAFU/8gzp5AF8uHU/s320/IMG_4080.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Morse Bluegrass Band</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Food and company,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">your music and memories,</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">stay with me always.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">- Tim</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Blue woolen garments.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Corned beef and rye.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">A feeling of oh-so-good.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Got places to go and things to do and I know I’ll be happy as soon as I get there</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">But I wouldn’t mind just one more day.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">- Jake</div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Thank you for lending us your children</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">for sending these bright young spirits off for a little while</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">for letting go</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">and trusting</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">and bearing with them and us.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I don’t know</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">what it is like to</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">have a child and watch</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">him grow </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">and let her go</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">off into the world and become</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">an adult.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">But I imagine this is</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">not an easy step.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">As one by one they grow new facial hair, make big life decisions, question the path they are on</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And now here you are, with your support, your trust, your courage</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">your love expressed through heaping tables of food</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I can’t know what it is like for you, but I do know it is no little thing.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">So thanks. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">– Lu</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Dear Wonderful Parents:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">We thank you for all your wonderfulness, on parents day and in general. Your generosity, for your children and everyone else was greatly appreciated. Most of all, thanks for the kindness you showed those of us who don’t happen to be your children – the times you spent talking and even taking out people outside your family. It is a remarkable sign to Semester’s power.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">- Nimrod</div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">Right now, for the short term,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">you are nourishing me with food.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">But for the rest of my life to come</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">you give the gift of knowledge and love.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes that can best be given</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">with a different environment and people,</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UEt7-PaOv0E/TZ9pyivr0cI/AAAAAAAAAFo/H6RGDfcsT8k/s1600/IMG_4498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br />
</a></div><div style="text-align: center;">and I can not think of a more noble act</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">than to let go and encourage</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">our growth away from you.</div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;">- Julian</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; text-align: left;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UEt7-PaOv0E/TZ9pyivr0cI/AAAAAAAAAFo/H6RGDfcsT8k/s1600/IMG_4498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UEt7-PaOv0E/TZ9pyivr0cI/AAAAAAAAAFo/H6RGDfcsT8k/s320/IMG_4498.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thank you for the food and drinks,</span></div></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">for your loving care.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thank you for your guidance, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the strength you give us,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">for your support and wisdom.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And your patience as you wait for each new update.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">- Rosa</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
With that, hold onto your patience (as we try very hard to hold onto ours, and fail, in waiting to see the ground and leaves, and putting away our winter boots). I will happily bring you more tales of our life in not-so-long.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px;">Yours dearly,</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Mathilde Vikene</div><div class="MsoNormal">Spring Scribe NH-Vermont Semester 2011</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-86366012485437269552011-03-29T13:03:00.001-07:002011-03-29T14:26:57.188-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 8<href="file://localhost/users/lu/library/caches/temporaryitems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"> <style>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fdg6oX7L43A/TZILWbB9ldI/AAAAAAAAAE4/YFIe2IrJ2Uc/s1600/IMG_3788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fdg6oX7L43A/TZILWbB9ldI/AAAAAAAAAE4/YFIe2IrJ2Uc/s640/IMG_3788.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A happy group arrived at NorthWoods Steward Ship Center<br />
left to rt: Bridie, Nimrod, Zane, Sam, Serene, Rosa, Mathilde, Jon, Jake, Tim, Julian, Tobias.<br />
Misha and Nate in the front</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6O-ErYMzk/TZI0AVCLnYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/0DlScqr4lbU/s1600/IMG_3748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></span></span></div></div> Only a few days after I wrote down the last update, I sit here at the office of Northwoods Stewardship Center, writing my last update. We’ve gone about 300 miles since base camp in Marlow, NH and we’re now at the half point of our journey. Spring teases us with coming for a day or two and then disappearing in a blizzard. This morning was around 0°F, and almost 3 feet of snow are still on the ground; yet catkins are appearing on trees, the sun is out for warm bits occasionally and we know spring won’t fail us. As we settle into base camp life in Northwoods, building our little village and wrapping up the winter expedition, we look towards spring: new big jobs, pounding ash for baskets, building canoes, carving paddles and preparing for our life on the river.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6TFxyiYftcY/TZIPm1X-O2I/AAAAAAAAAFE/ywo4r9CrWz8/s1600/IMG_3804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6TFxyiYftcY/TZIPm1X-O2I/AAAAAAAAAFE/ywo4r9CrWz8/s320/IMG_3804.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Nimrod </i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6TFxyiYftcY/TZIPm1X-O2I/AAAAAAAAAFE/ywo4r9CrWz8/s1600/IMG_3804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">There isn’t going to be a long update about the last few days so I will just add a few words about small </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">group solos. After a long, hectic expedition preparation which went way into the night (most </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">went to sleep between 12:30 and 2 AM), we woke up at the usual waking time, had a big, protein rich breakfast for heroes, finished our last-minute preparations, took down our camp, filled our water bottles with maple sap and set out in our groups of four. Tobias, Rosa, Mathilde and Tim set out first. Not long after Heartbeet they found a road-killed porcupine named Jimmy, which they skinned, gutted and roasted over the fire. Their tales are unknown from there, except the fact that they reached Northwoods safely. The second group to set out was Zane, Bridie, Julian and myself – we travelled fast across the North Country, so fast we almost forgot to camp one night. The third group was Sam, Jake, Serene and Jon, who did everything the right and safe way.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6TFxyiYftcY/TZIPm1X-O2I/AAAAAAAAAFE/ywo4r9CrWz8/s1600/IMG_3804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span> To conclude this update, I will just say I loved talking to y’all over the last 10 weeks. To those who are confused, this is <u>not</u> the last update, but rather the last update I will write. So, goodbye!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Nimrod<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: Times;">Quote of the expedition</span></u><span style="font-family: Times;">: “Certainty of Death, Small Chance of Success, What are we Waiting For?” Gimli, son of Gloin</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times;"><br />
</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><u><span style="font-family: Times;">A Very Long Poet’s Yurt<o:p></o:p></span></u></div><u><span style="font-family: Times;"><br />
</span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">On our last night<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">We slept together side by side<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Held in a cradle of tree limbs<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Projected by the moon onto our tent<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I remember the feeling<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">So content<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">So confident<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">So eager and ready for the dawning of tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Sam <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T45NAHLfXLI/TZIOIK1w5eI/AAAAAAAAAFA/aU-v1UtehQE/s1600/IMG_3847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"></span>A</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;">s the daylight slips away, in comes the night sky with the moon and stars to take its stage.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">A </span></b><span style="font-family: Times;">beautiful sight that doesn’t fade as you age.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T45NAHLfXLI/TZIOIK1w5eI/AAAAAAAAAFA/aU-v1UtehQE/s1600/IMG_3847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T45NAHLfXLI/TZIOIK1w5eI/AAAAAAAAAFA/aU-v1UtehQE/s320/IMG_3847.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bridie</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">W</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;">hy do we close the curtain to the stage by being in constant cage in this time and age?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"> have opened my eyes to this beautiful starry sky by opening the stage curtain, for this is better than the constant cage I am certain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">T</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;">he green boughs as my cradle,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">The thermos cup as my ladle.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">T</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;">he wood to burn<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Will keep me warm in turn.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times;">T</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;">his very memory of that night<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Will stay shining bright<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">As long as the stars keep shining at night.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Bridie<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Two-<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Sharing one talent<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Two-<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Coming together<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">To play one song<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">A fiddle and guitar.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Tim<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6O-ErYMzk/TZI0AVCLnYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/0DlScqr4lbU/s1600/IMG_3748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_j6O-ErYMzk/TZI0AVCLnYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/0DlScqr4lbU/s400/IMG_3748.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Shoveling out the base for "Honey Hollow"<br />
Jon, Rosa, Serene and Jake</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;"><u><span style="font-family: Times;">Work</span></u></span></u></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><u><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">I’m working but I want to work harder</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">I want to work and think only of my work<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span>I want my hands to know where to go<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">And what to do<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">I’ve known idle time<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">I’ve known endless comfort<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">How it can kill<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Body and soul<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">I don’t want to work for the end result <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">I want to work for the work itself<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Because life is work<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">I want to stomp out all signs of my <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Lazy youth<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">I want to never shy away from<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">The necessary effort<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">From the next task<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">From the painful, difficult but vital parts<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Of life<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Jon<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">The forest is my friend<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I thought<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">As I sat under boughs and sticks<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Warm in the winter snow<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Who was it who told me<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">To be cautious of the woods<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">To be safe and not get lost<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">And be careful not to trip on roots?<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">‘cause the other day<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I fell down the stairs <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">And they didn’t feel any safer to me <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Than a fallen tree or bush<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Who was it who warned me<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">About the cold and snow?<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">‘cause I’m feeling mighty warm right now<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Out in the dark cold<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I snuggled my feet towards the fire <o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">And laid my head on boughs<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">And thought of all the good hard work<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Right here in my hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Rosa<o:p></o:p></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udwdPtqs6bQ/TZIECKARrGI/AAAAAAAAAEk/V-uLDWHVbtA/s1600/IMG_3372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-udwdPtqs6bQ/TZIECKARrGI/AAAAAAAAAEk/V-uLDWHVbtA/s400/IMG_3372.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Beautiful Northeast Kingdom</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">They come with a <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Strong presence and large vibrations <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">They come across the stream<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Slithered over our tangled veins<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Threw down their burdens and took all<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Their work<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">They take from us<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">They change the scene, changing the sounds,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Changing the smells, smoke, food, socks, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">The odors of a dozen or so unwashed<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Teenagers<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">They change the vibrations<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Slamming axes, dragging saws, moving feet<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Now they are silent, lost in their thoughts<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Them like us are growing<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">But them unlike us are going<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">This is only a stop on the map<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">A moment in a much larger scheme<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Will they even remember taking our boughs<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">And our wood? Probably not. Will they ever <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Come back? Probably not. But for now they<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Love us.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Tobias</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MwEhTKaqxc0/TZIC787E8TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/J62ffU5C2EY/s1600/IMG_3359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MwEhTKaqxc0/TZIC787E8TI/AAAAAAAAAEg/J62ffU5C2EY/s400/IMG_3359.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><i>Jake, Tim and Tobias</i><br />
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</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span>Weather moving in t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">o put weight on my belt.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Making me appreciate t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">he sun.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Mighty Northwest<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Cold, blue. B</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">right.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Through the frigid air<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> Radiates a warmth.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: center 3.0in;"><span style="font-family: Times;">The Grey<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> Warmer, freezes deeper<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Bringing the burden of the heavens<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> Unfolded<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">And the freedom o</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">f that weight</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">In the confines of my mind<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> Is no longer a distraction.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Jake<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BLdxrc61G9M/TZIFXBBHe0I/AAAAAAAAAEo/5xUSU0UQaGQ/s1600/IMG_3445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BLdxrc61G9M/TZIFXBBHe0I/AAAAAAAAAEo/5xUSU0UQaGQ/s400/IMG_3445.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Serene</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><u><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></u><br />
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</span></u></div><div style="text-align: left;"><u><span style="font-family: Times;">Invitation to group solo<o:p></o:p></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Will you join me on this <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Wild adventure through the woods?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">We might get lost, we may get hurt<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">We will get tired<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">But we will do it together<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">We will lift each other up along the way<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">When the going is hard<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Our hands/minds will work together<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">In unison<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">For we are a family on this adventure.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">-Serene<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MqmZg9483EE/TZIMmf7W6iI/AAAAAAAAAE8/OeffEAE--aw/s1600/IMG_3680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MqmZg9483EE/TZIMmf7W6iI/AAAAAAAAAE8/OeffEAE--aw/s320/IMG_3680.jpg" width="212" /></a><u><span style="font-family: Times;">To be Alone</span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Fear fills most hearts when exploring the<o:p></o:p></span><u><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-size: small;"></span></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Dark spaces of their brain. The forgotten<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Memories, some decidedly left behind, others<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Blissfully washed away. But still forgotten,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">It is not often one gets to <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Sit by themselves and think deep. Putting<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">On the Indiana Jones hats and<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Diving into the unknown regions of self.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Most see their caves, and shy<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Away wishing for company to comfort them<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Out of the self. Those people are lonely.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">It is only when you can be at peace <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">With your past, present and future<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">That you can find serenity and joy<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">In being alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Being lonely is not bad, seeking comfort<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">And confidence in someone helps you grow<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">In a completely different way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">But next time you find yourself looking down a dark corridor<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Turn off your light<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">And take a step <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Into yourself<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">And welcome what comes with understanding <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">And a sense of gratitude<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SXVQWupvOLk/TZIJpV5lexI/AAAAAAAAAE0/alPwIPQ66F8/s1600/IMG_3620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SXVQWupvOLk/TZIJpV5lexI/AAAAAAAAAE0/alPwIPQ66F8/s400/IMG_3620.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mathilde, Serene and Tobias</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Times;">For who you are today<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">And learn to be alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">-Zane<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</span></div>I would stay here and live well. Live<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Beautifully, here by this stream, these<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Trees, this open sky, these three people<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">That I have around me. This is not all<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">There is in the world, and I would not<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Stay forever. But for a few days,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">We could build a life here, if we<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Had them. Let our souls settle for<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">A while.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">-Mathilde</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T5sornREsWc/TZIGZnde6JI/AAAAAAAAAEs/KKx0NrQTO6k/s1600/IMG_3578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T5sornREsWc/TZIGZnde6JI/AAAAAAAAAEs/KKx0NrQTO6k/s400/IMG_3578.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;">Fire, so much power</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Burning so brightly<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">In forest so nightly.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Fire, warmth and strength<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">The secret to success<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Of the human race.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> This is to you,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Friend, foe and lover, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Who stands beside me,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Against me and behind me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">-Nimrod</span></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-32799478010282266452011-03-21T05:54:00.001-07:002011-04-27T12:28:27.291-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 7<href="file://localhost/users/lu/library/caches/temporaryitems/msoclip/0clip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"><style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> Our short layover at Battleground was quickly over and we left civilization, heading into the forest. Once again we were leaving our teachers Chris and Lu behind. This leg was different; our teachers weren’t going to be part of the daily routine any longer. When weather permitted, they would spend the night outside of the tent. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> As usual, we found ourselves eating melted ice cream in unusually hot weather, so hot that Jake and Tim skied pant-less. After a short while Chris and Lu caught up with us but stayed in the back, trying not to get involved. As we found camp they skied in and built a quick snow and bough shelter for themselves. We ate our trail mush with great cheer, prepared by Jake and Sam – the first Cook’s Challenge contestants. The third leg would test the skills we learned during the first and second legs, from setting up the tent and stove to finding dry firewood to identifying trees and twigs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> The second day started with steep long uphill and then a long descent. We met Tim Yandow (Tobias’ father) and skied some more. It was an eventful day known for “gravitational breaks”- falling for no reason while standing. We found ourselves lost many times. We ended up on a wild bushwhack through the private properties of a big farm, and when we finally caught up to Chris and Lu, they'd been waiting for an hour. We made camp under cover of big, angry storm clouds, which unloaded a torrential downpour just after we went inside the tent for more trail mush and sleep. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> On the third day we awoke to pouring rain. Chris and Lu announced that in their opinion, moving was not necessary, but instead we should stay and live over. However, the option was up to us. We decided to listen to the call of the bush and stay at our campsite. That came in useful as we learned how to make fuzz-sticks and hand-split firewood with knives, two good strategies for starting fires in the rain, and Tim lit his under cover of a root ball. We each lit our own fires successfully. It was a day of learning and saying goodbye to Chris, who would soon leave us. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> The next day started with a clash and a bang as the slightly rotten birch center pole Julian made broke at 4:30 AM, under the weight of two feet of snow. Bridie was trapped under the heavy cotton and snow and yelled at us while bench -pressing the tent: “I <u>can</u> breathe!” which everyone mistook for: “I can’t breathe!” which for some reason made us all laugh. Sam and Lu sprinted like lightning and shoveled snow off the tent while Chris got a new center pole. By the time we finished cleaning up the mess, it was already time to get up. That day was a hard day: we found that yesterday’s rain had made all our packs wet and frozen overnight. All our buckles and straps were frozen and almost impossible to adjust. I skied half a day without using either the hip strap or the sternum strap, which made my pack seem much heavier than it was. The tent also froze and was huge, barely fitting into Jake’s 95 liter pack. The skiing was difficult that day, having to break through 2 feet of powder, and we started a trail-breaking rotation for the first time in the entire expedition. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-KjC0sb95pjc/TYdEB2TSsFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/wp_vwybTMrY/s1600/IMG_0433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-KjC0sb95pjc/TYdEB2TSsFI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/wp_vwybTMrY/s320/IMG_0433.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Jon, Tim and Sam<br />
carrying the canoe to the potential put in</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Times;">That day was the notorious Winooski River Crossing day, when semester students traditionally cross the Winooski River with a canoe through the deadly cold water. If a person fell in, the expertise of no teacher could save him. Just before we launched the canoe at a treacherous put-in, since the traditional landing was frozen with thin yet unpaddleable slush, a man named Healey stopped by and asked us not to cross the river, saying he would drive us to our destination if necessary. Although Chris was confident of his and our abilities to safely cross the river, he decided to accept the offer to be polite to the man. Healey drove Chris and half our group to Smilie Elementary School with all the gear, while Lu and those of us to whom it was important not to drive walked seven miles to the bridge and across to Smilie School.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> The next day was the end of the journey with Chris and the start of the journey with Nate. We gave our presentation to the Smilie schoolchildren and invited them to come to visit our tent. Then we packed up and road-walked the steep Bolton Valley access road. With Tobias navigating, we hiked up the road all the way up to the Nordic Valley Ski Center, sweat dripping all over the place from the long, hard climb. We then skied up to Bryant’s cabin where we stayed the night. We arrived at camp early and we didn’t have to set it up, so we went for a few runs down the steep hills of the cross-country ski center, in the perfect two feet of powder. We slept on the stiff boards of the cabin floor that night, missing the soft, fragrant boughs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-nWdXS_9ik5Q/TYdDVCpaQRI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3yZHQ0ISpH0/s1600/IMG_0576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-nWdXS_9ik5Q/TYdDVCpaQRI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3yZHQ0ISpH0/s640/IMG_0576.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bolton Trapp Traverse</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Times;"> The next day, as Jon the navigator announced it, was the notorious Bolton-Trapp Traverse day. For those who are not familiar with Cross-Country ski trails, Bolton Trapp Traverse is an extremely steep, narrow trail down Bolton Mountain, filled to the brim with signs that say things like: “Experts only! Long, steep, narrow, unpatrolled trail, travel at your own risk!” That morning had to start with a breakfast for heroes in order for the day to succeed. Roger, Lu’s friend from Burlington, came in with about $100 worth of food, including bacon, eggs, blueberries and fresh milk, and the highlight was half a gallon of his own homemade maple syrup, which fit in perfectly with our own oatmeal. We then started up the mountain from Bryant’s cabin, and after a long ascent in which I had a very deep conversation with Mathilde about the usefulness of birch bark as wiping material, we started to traverse and descend in short, steep, narrow and winding sections through the powder. We could not but be very grateful for the beautiful conditions we had. After a while we stopped on a ridge where we could see our surroundings, ate some of Nate’s salmon jerky, had a conversation about the existence of catamounts/mountain lions, and started down the real descent, the one that wasn’t only steep and narrow but also long without stopping. We whirled down the mountain through the powder with great joy and pride of our skiing abilities. Eventually the forest around us became an open hardwood forest as we descended down the mountain. Tobias, Tim and Julian found a root covered in snow that served as a very big jump. They all went over it, which was amusing as they all fell and rose with big, snowy smiles. Julian’s jump was especially spectacular as he jumped off unbalanced, limbs flailing with a look of astonishment on his face. After we went down the hill we came to our resupply at Lake Mansfield Trout Club, and loaded the biggest amount of food we’ve ever carried on trail. Most people had two food bags, and Tim’s load had to be confiscated from him as he tried to carry three. After Rosa finished dealing out the last of the dried sourdough biscuits, we skied over to our campsite and had a nice big dinner.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> The next day we skied through the nicely groomed trails of the Trapp Family Lodge Ski Trails – the very same ones from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Sound of Music!</i> After a long, gradual ascent we travelled downhill, at about the fastest pace we’ve travelled before due to the trail quality. We then broke off into the Catamount Trail and decided to bushwhack instead of going on a long loop. We got lost and decided to just continue downhill to the highway we knew existed there. We roadwalked on the highway, getting splatters of slush from passing cars, all the way to a hotel where the catamount trail was to be found. That night we camped in a beautiful hemlock magical Narnia land. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> On day eight, a rainy, misty, springy day, we broke trail uphill through the magical Narnia land while learning what type of trees grow in Narnia. After a long while of breaking trail and getting lost in the front yard of a hotel, we finally hit a groomed snowmobile trail, the kind that likes to go up and down and up and down. The trail brought back many memories of the first leg, where most of the paths we travelled on were of that sort. After a super long downhill we found a present from the gods: a patch of sugar maple trees – with buckets attached! The day was a perfect sugaring day: a cold, below freezing night draws the sap up the tree, and the warm day that follows sends it back down, into the holes drilled by man and into the buckets. Rosa must have chugged at least a full bucket of sap. After the refreshing drink we kept skiing, all the while smelling the strong earthy smell of plants and animals coming alive. We knew spring was on its way. We reached our liveover spot on a beautiful beaver flowage. This time of the year, beaver ponds are not as safe as they were in February, and we needed to use caution while skiing around the pond during to the melting of the ice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> The next day was our first liveover with Nate. After a breakfast which included yummy sourdough, honey and apple biscuits we drew some more trees and learnt how to make a birch twig carabineer. During our walk in the woods we discovered a porcupine den with a lot of porcupine poop, and the owner itself sunbathing on top of the tree. One delicious lunch later we went into skills test. We showed our ability to tie knots and sharpen a knife to be razor sharp to Lu, and our abilities to navigate, light a match on the first try, and identify softwood and hardwood to Nate. Everyone did very well. Overall, it was a restful day. <o:p></o:p></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-25L_ZqfJFyk/TYdET88vskI/AAAAAAAAAEU/KW9gE3tbh6A/s1600/IMG_0623.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-25L_ZqfJFyk/TYdET88vskI/AAAAAAAAAEU/KW9gE3tbh6A/s320/IMG_0623.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gert Lepine</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" justify;"="" text-align:=""><span style="font-family: Times;"> On day 10 we went and visited the Vermont legend: the Lepine Sisters. They used to be four, however one sister died recently. They led a hard farming life, raising one of the best Jersey herds in the nation, and working 45 years with not one day of break. They retired about ten years ago and sold the herd at an auction, and now live an active life of kayaking, fishing and exploring. They gave us raw milk from a neighboring farm, cookies and fresh bananas, lots of advice about working and their life stories, which were very interesting. We then skied on; most of the ski was through civilization. We camped on a beaver flowage around which we could see many tracks of Hare, Mink and Fischer amongst others. That was to be our last expedition camp with our teachers Nate and Lu.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" justify;"="" text-align:=""><span style="font-family: Times;"> The next day started out with our last skills test to date – the twig and tree identification page. Ten twigs were laid on the snow, and we were to write their names in order on a piece of paper. Next we were all taken to the tree test, where Nate chose trees for us to identify – some obvious some more challenging. After the test came the pinnacle of the third leg: the large group solo, where we all travelled for three days and two nights with Lu and Nate following far behind and camping far away. We left the beaver flowage towards Mt. Elmore and climbed over and around it. Skiing conditions were icy and slippery, and the ski both uphill and downhill was slippery but fun. We saw a fox napping under a tree and managed to get really close to it before it suddenly woke up and trotted away. Eventually we hit a snowshoe/hiking trail full of footmarks, which were all iced in. This made the ski downhill very challenging and bumpy. Just on the bottom of the steep downgrade there was a metal gate, and as Zane rushed down not knowing what’s ahead, he heard Tim screaming: “stop, stop there’s a gate!” As he flew downhill trying to stop with all his might, and saying things that need not be repeated here, he managed to stop barely inches from the gate. He breathed a sigh of relief, carefully stepped over the gate and fell. A few kilometers later we found the Lake Elmore General Store, which sold many local, organic foods. We had group money, which we used to buy ice cream, milk, bread and sausage. That night camp was set up in record time around a fir burl forest.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" justify;"="" text-align:=""><span style="font-family: Times;"> The twelfth day was one of the iciest, sunniest days we’ve experienced. Skiing down snowmobile trails was insanely fast and difficult on even the slightest downgrade. We stopped to sunbathe in sunny fields and kept going. On one downhill we took off our skis and let them glide down the trail ownerless. We picked the skis up and skied through forest and field, road walking some and coming very close to the Magic Garden Waldorf School. We bushwhacked downhill through conditions that were not as icy because the warm sun had started to melt the snow. We ended up in “an awesome dude’s driveway” as Tim described it before we met the dude, who did end up being pretty awesome and offering us his sauna. We had to politely decline as time was running at its usual pace. We camped on a beautiful campsite on the bank of a brook going into Wolcott pond. It was our last night as group on the expedition, and we all felt sad, but looking forward to new adventures.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" justify;"="" text-align:=""><span style="font-family: Times;"> The last day of our expedition as a group was full of maple sap. Julian, who navigated, decided he did not want to go the way he had drawn. As a result, we arrived at Heartbeet 15 minutes late. On the plus side, we met many people along the way. It started with a woman who shouted greetings to us from her window and offered help in finding our route, but did not know where to go. We then met another man who had a hot tub next to sugar maples with sap buckets, and finally a man on the slopes next to Heartbeet who owned a sugaring operation called “Ever Fair Sugar Makers” who showed us the right way through his sugar bush and the forest. We arrived at our last layover spot, set up the tent where we will be cooking our meals and settled in the barn where we will be sleeping.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" justify;"="" text-align:=""><span style="font-family: Times;"> This layover offers much more interaction with people than our last two did. It is a small Camphill community dedicated for people with special needs. Every day, we interact with the “friends” (the people with special needs) and coworkers who take care of them. We help take care of the farm animals every morning and just finished a service project in their barn. We are busily preparing for the last challenge of the winter expedition: the small group solos, where we will divide in groups of four and travel the distance to Northwoods Stewardship Center.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" justify;"="" text-align:=""><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Nimrod<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" justify;"="" text-align:=""><span style="font-family: Times;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -40.5pt; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-iKSoRFbdCeo/TYdCdGggRpI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A5uy9f20rno/s1600/IMG_0693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-iKSoRFbdCeo/TYdCdGggRpI/AAAAAAAAAD8/A5uy9f20rno/s320/IMG_0693.jpg" width="240" /></a><u><span style="font-family: Times;">The Poet’s Yurt<o:p></o:p></span></u></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -40.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Times;">To whom this may reach:<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -40.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Times;">We like you<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -40.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Times;">If you would have it<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">We will happily shove you deep under the cover of our community.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Don’t worry, suffocation is not likely<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">Although time to breathe may be short<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">If you like to work and you are willing<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">to discuss <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">everything </b>that happens, you will find yourself most at home<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">We offer: <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> 1.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times;">Moral support<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> 2.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times;">Constructive criticism<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> 3.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times;">Friendly advice<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> 4.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times;">A point in the right direction<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .25in; margin-top: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Times;"> 5.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times;">And pats on the back<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;">You don’t have to join, but I think you should.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Times;"> -Zane Reid<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><u><span style="font-family: Times;">Quote of the Trail:</span></u><span style="font-family: Times;"> “We must be the change we wish to see in the world” Mohandas Ghandi<o:p></o:p></span></div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-52408921832622480212011-03-04T17:21:00.000-08:002011-03-04T17:21:28.419-08:00NHVSP 2011 Update 6<style>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YwnjL9BjSEk/TXGIxRRQwjI/AAAAAAAAADw/sE2n1qqeszs/s1600/water+gathering.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YwnjL9BjSEk/TXGIxRRQwjI/AAAAAAAAADw/sE2n1qqeszs/s320/water+gathering.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mathilde dipping from a spring</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">After saying a sad goodbye to Misha and cheering ourselves up with melted ice cream, we left Farm and Wilderness in a rainstorm. We ascended the slopes over Woodward reservoir and kept going on the groomed snowmobile trails in slushy conditions. We were happy – we were back on trail!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The second leg went by even quicker than the first. We had a total of four liveover days – twice as many as in the first leg. We used these nonmoving days to learn bush skills: how to build a fire on top of the snow, how to build a winter-worthy shelter, identify trees, learn about the history of logging and forestry in the Northeast and tell the weather, among other things. On one liveover, we had a two-hour fire solo alone in the woods.<span> </span>Each of us built and tended our own fires on top of the snow.<span> </span>To be honest, my fire solo was closer to three hours, which caused a good amount of amusement when I came back in the middle of lunch.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QdLE5wr-jZw/TXGImLkW6eI/AAAAAAAAADk/fnbf-VcgJAY/s1600/shelter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QdLE5wr-jZw/TXGImLkW6eI/AAAAAAAAADk/fnbf-VcgJAY/s320/shelter.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tim, Rosa, and Bridie's shelter</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Another liveover was spent in groups of three in secluded spots throughout a beaver flowage.<span> </span>We built shelters, cooked dinner and spent the night out. Everyone made exceptionally beautiful shelters and stayed comfortable and warm without a sleeping bag through the night. Julian, Jon and myself underestimated the amount of firewood we needed, and so we went on a firewood hunt at 5:00 AM. Bridie declared it “the best night ever!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-VFv1M_FS2IU/TXGIs8v3FnI/AAAAAAAAADs/wuHUxStN7fE/s1600/tobias+self+arrest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-VFv1M_FS2IU/TXGIs8v3FnI/AAAAAAAAADs/wuHUxStN7fE/s320/tobias+self+arrest.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tobias on the icy trail.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">One glorious day, we missed a turn and instead of our planned gradual descent we found ourselves descending Bloodroot Mountain on extremely steep slopes. That night, spirits were high. We camped on an old homestead, surrounded by beautiful stone walls and apple trees.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">As a part of our Vermont History curriculum we met Tweeter, an old-time logger who knows the ways of the forest. We made camp early and skied down tricky hills, without packs – a challenge we all craved. We listened to Tweeter’s interesting stories about his life and the business of logging. When we returned to camp, Sam stacked the immense amount of twigs we had onto one pile.<span> </span>That night, he lit a giant bonfire, around which he and a number of other people danced and hollered. Serene spent that evening without a cup after Zane hung it on the top of the tent post as a punishment for leaving it everywhere.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-4lw-QfLrqRY/TXGISWsXMvI/AAAAAAAAADQ/pBvW69vs0tw/s1600/bonfire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-4lw-QfLrqRY/TXGISWsXMvI/AAAAAAAAADQ/pBvW69vs0tw/s320/bonfire.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">That same day was when Jake felt an irresistible “call of the wild,” he went up ahead during one of our stops. A few minutes later, a bunch of snowmobilers came up on the trail and stopped to see what we were up to – ‘tis not every day you see a bunch of cross-country skiers with packs! The first snowmobiler said to us, somewhat concerned: “We saw a lone pack ahead, on the side of the trail, and we were wondering…“ and then his friend came up to the first and whispered to him: “We found him - he was pooping in the woods.” The snowmobilers went away and soon we found a very-surprised Jake and all was good.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-YmB8FUDNZ_Q/TXGIims1PSI/AAAAAAAAADg/k3NqEeDdFxg/s1600/sam-stove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-YmB8FUDNZ_Q/TXGIims1PSI/AAAAAAAAADg/k3NqEeDdFxg/s320/sam-stove.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sam sets the stove.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <span> </span>A wave of vomit went through some of our troops on our longest day yet – 20 kilometers. Our leader for that day was a sick Rosa, who passed out on her pack every time we stopped, and fell asleep as soon as we got to camp, covered in sleeping bags.<span> </span>Tobias was also sick that night, and very gracefully excused himself from evening meeting with the phrase “Oh, Word!”<span> </span>The next day, they felt much better and ate ravenously. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">One sleety day, Serene was helping out in the wood yard, and paused to ask Chris a question.<span> </span>She had a huge log in her arms, and so when we looked over it seemed like she was waltzing with the log, swaying back and forth with her eyes focused on the distance. That same day, we heard much Norwegian as Mathilde got tired of speaking English.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-24EZc2-UR2o/TXGIYhhXfuI/AAAAAAAAADY/xGFu8TPov0A/s1600/jon+mt+abe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-24EZc2-UR2o/TXGIYhhXfuI/AAAAAAAAADY/xGFu8TPov0A/s320/jon+mt+abe.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">On another day we climbed up Mt. Abraham all the way to its icy top while dragging our skis behind. We were rewarded for our efforts by rare, perfect weather on the peak, allowing us to see from the White Mountains to the Adirondacks and all across the state of Vermont. We kept skiing on the ridge, dodging strong mountain spruce branches until we got to the peak of Lincoln Peak – the top of Sugar Bush ski resort, one of the biggest downhill ski resorts in Vermont, where we got many questioning looks from passing skiers as we skied down the slopes, and sometimes we were even stopped by interested skiers. </span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-L4WsZhKtOwY/TXGIVLFvfOI/AAAAAAAAADU/9EKVR2evc4Q/s1600/group+mt+abe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-L4WsZhKtOwY/TXGIVLFvfOI/AAAAAAAAADU/9EKVR2evc4Q/s1600/group+mt+abe.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>On top of Mt Abe.</i></td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">After our little encounter with civilization, which included smells from the resort’s restaurant, we reached our last camp for the second leg at the “cheesy swamp,” a beaver bog where we could see houses on the shore. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2KvPzGL5Hfs/TXGIcl81lCI/AAAAAAAAADc/6ddowS01c0A/s1600/nimrod+self+arrest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-2KvPzGL5Hfs/TXGIcl81lCI/AAAAAAAAADc/6ddowS01c0A/s320/nimrod+self+arrest.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Nimrod, our scribe.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">On the way to our second layover, I was concentrating on skiing downhill through the thick crust when I was suddenly ambushed by a herd of fleeing deer. I had to fall backwards so as to not crash into one of them as it jumped over my skis. They whirled around me for about 30 seconds until they disappeared into the bush. That was the same day when Tim, instead of traversing downhill like everyone else, decided to go straight downhill through the bush, a decision which resulted in a beautiful faceplant out of which he rose with a happy, snow-covered smile.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We’re now on our second layover in The Battleground Condominium number 18, where we’re wrapping up the last leg.<span> </span>We are excited for the next leg, where we will be much more independent from our teachers Chris, Nate and Lu, and preparing for the group solo.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">-Nimrod</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b><u>The Poet’s Yurt</u></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>Looooove letter to fire</u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">My dearest and most wonderful fire.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I looooove you!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for holding me tight on that chilly night</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Without you I wouldn’t know what to do</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Could you be more perfect? Here</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’ll cook your meal, boil your water, dry your wet clothes</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">And keep you warm, just feed me</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">And I’ll sit here and look just fantastic.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">You babe!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">You look sooo good all the time</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I could stare at you for hours!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’m gonna take you out for a steak.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for bringing light and warmth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Into my life.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Your beautiful glow and voice that talks</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I don’t even mind when you burn my socks. It’s my B</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’ll see you soon because we can’t be apart, Hot Stuff</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Love, Tobias Yandow</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-0khKEqJCIGg/TXGOQzLNtOI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Nj6cNv2HU50/s1600/zanejulianetc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-0khKEqJCIGg/TXGOQzLNtOI/AAAAAAAAAD0/Nj6cNv2HU50/s320/zanejulianetc.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>Ode to fire</u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I built myself a house, a place to rest my body,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">a dwelling for my nightly thoughts and dreams.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">A shelter from wind and water. At it’s center,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">And in my heart’s center, I build you a </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">House. You, who comes with warmth and </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Light, awakens my spirit.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There is no home in a house without </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">You, nor life in my body.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I call for you, and if I call with love, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">You come. If I build you a home in recalling of</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">All our moments together, long of stolen glints, our shared</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Pleasures, you will come. I am learning to</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Know you, I’m on the path to understanding</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">And you in turn will love me, and</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Answer your kin’s calls with pleasure.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">My hands are tender around you, and all the</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">time you stay with me I care for</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">you as were you my own blood,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">though I know you are bigger than all my </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">life and hold power I can never match.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fire, you are in everything,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hear my praise.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">-Mathilde Vikene</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Quote of the Trail: “Roads go ever-ever on” – J.R.R Tolkien</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jGgQQakyoU8/TXGPPqrZOOI/AAAAAAAAAD4/MvSbhvAYEn4/s1600/tent+raising.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jGgQQakyoU8/TXGPPqrZOOI/AAAAAAAAAD4/MvSbhvAYEn4/s320/tent+raising.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-13521695051354329662011-02-18T13:17:00.000-08:002011-02-18T13:21:11.517-08:00NHVSP 2011 Update 5 <style>
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</style><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">After parents day we frantically packed our bags, cleaned up camp, had an awesome dinner of leftover desserts at Lisl’s, and a big bacon, egg and orange juice breakfast at Misha’s. Then we left on foot, skis on our back, headed into the west. We met Lisl on the way with a bag full of big warm chocolate chip cookies, and shortly after we put on our skis on the side of the road, we learned a lesson from Misha (don’t eat snow!) and skied across Lake Warrren. </span> <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our little home in the woods.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Soon, our expected 5.5 k for the day turned into 9.5, after which we learned to set up camp, collect boughs, find dry firewood and process it. Just before darkness, help arrived in the form of Stefan Hofer (Lisl’s son and a semester graduate). We learned that one has to eat more than usual in the wilderness in order to have energy for an active lifestyle and to keep warm. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8P4SF2I-EdY/TV7VeH0S08I/AAAAAAAAACw/Ajz0B6yzjNU/s1600/skiers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8P4SF2I-EdY/TV7VeH0S08I/AAAAAAAAACw/Ajz0B6yzjNU/s320/skiers.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>On the trail</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Over the coming days, we learned the lifestyle we were to live for the next weeks, fell into the rhythm of quickly packing, eating and downing 4+ bowlfuls of water, then skiing until the afternoon while minimizing stops, and setting up camp quickly and efficiently. We had two liveovers over the last two weeks in which we didn’t move camp, so we slept in, washed, did our laundry and learned about Wilderness First Aid and knot tying. Everyone learned parts of their big jobs, which they didn’t expect, from Zane (aka “Poopsic” - Russian for Cupid) having to designate a pee tree, to Rosa cooking four days in a row (cooking entails waking up at 4:30 AM). We experienced cold winds to thunderstorms and gentle flurries to violent blizzards.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ipxr7Qx-Mpo/TV7fynlPQaI/AAAAAAAAAC8/dA3hhU5gxF0/s1600/girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ipxr7Qx-Mpo/TV7fynlPQaI/AAAAAAAAAC8/dA3hhU5gxF0/s320/girls.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Chloe, Serene, and Rosa.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">On day four we decided that breaking trail through two feet of snow for nine miles was not a good option, and instead we roadwalked for 12 kilometers from Athens to Grafton, We were too late for a visit to the Grafton Cheese Factory, where the immense amounts of yummy cheddar cheese we eat are made. Instead, Misha went and bought us apples and chocolate. We did a total of 17.5 km that day, and luckily found an old CCC cabin on the side of the trail to stay in for the night. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Papyrus;">That worked out perfectly as there was a huge thunderstorm at night, which iced up conditions for the next few days. Our journey included some downhills, which featured faceplants, falls and classic crashes out of which everyone came smiling. One memorable downhill was after our second liveover when we bushwhacked through perfect powder, being able to choose our own trails through the woods, down gentle slopes and over giant jumps. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--TtZm-r5U7M/TV7fRV3FE-I/AAAAAAAAAC0/iIN3yKDai-s/s1600/chris-class.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--TtZm-r5U7M/TV7fRV3FE-I/AAAAAAAAAC0/iIN3yKDai-s/s320/chris-class.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Chris Knapp leads a bud and twig drawing class.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">One day after our service project for Farm and Wilderness, which entailed shoveling a pond for their annual ice cutting weekend, we slept in their summer screened porch – some on the spice shelves, some on the pasta shelf, some the cereal shelf and some on the sauces and spreads shelf. We also discovered their stylish composting toilets, which are double-seated thrones with no walls called Kybos.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cmNvvvWQtlA/TV7fffHDlMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/rL6oXTtcYII/s1600/muscles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cmNvvvWQtlA/TV7fffHDlMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/rL6oXTtcYII/s320/muscles.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>50 degrees at Farm and Wilderness.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> We got to Farm and Wilderness just last Monday, Feb 14. To our surprise we found out that we were a day early! So we got a nice head start on the tons of academic work that had to be completed. The trailer arrived the next day and we met Nate and our new teacher for the next leg, Chris. Those of us with delaminating Fischer skies replaced them for a new model, which proved to be faster and more controlled downhill performers. We also went on a grand social event with Chris who introduced us to all his friends, Red Maple, Spruce, White Pine, Sugar Maple, Yellow Birch, White Birch, Oak and many more. We are now busily preparing for the next leg, in which the focus will shift from learning how to travel in the bush to the crafts and knowledge of long term bush-living.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> -</span><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand";">Nimrod</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><i><u>HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY TO JON!!!</u></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4P8DSGlxAco/TV7f6JzeCEI/AAAAAAAAADA/HjW0ENLiMtQ/s1600/redmaple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QlKVVuSow9I/TV7gUIO6r2I/AAAAAAAAADE/f5-6p-cB3zE/s1600/jon-tent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QlKVVuSow9I/TV7gUIO6r2I/AAAAAAAAADE/f5-6p-cB3zE/s320/jon-tent.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Jon, Birthday Boy and Camp Manager preparing our new tent.</i></td></tr>
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><u>The Poet’s Yurt</u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Each step deliberate</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Each movement with a goal</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">We trudge forward</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Towards the north</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Around us the woods glisten in the sun</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">The snow falls on our shoulder</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">The wind whips our bodies</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">The cold wraps around us</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> Driving us on.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Each day longer than the last</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Each moment filled with a new challenge</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">With each ache and pain</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> We find a new strength</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">With each desperate fear,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> We come closer</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">To one another and the world around.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand";"> -Rosa deJong</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><u>Seeking Truth</u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">A new way of life</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Beginning to take place</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Our hands willing the tasks</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">Our minds holding the knowledge</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">With every stride</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">We glide closer to our hard earned destination</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">The snow falls </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">The sun glistens through the trees</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">We steadily climb each mountain within ourselves</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">We cry, we laugh, we hold each other</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">The forest whispers honesty and truth</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;">To guide us down the path to the </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> Home of our beings</span><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand";"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand";"> -Serene Summerfield</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><u>Quote of the Trail:</u> “If you will it, it is no dream” -</span><span style="font-family: "Snell Roundhand";">Theodore Hertzl</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4P8DSGlxAco/TV7f6JzeCEI/AAAAAAAAADA/HjW0ENLiMtQ/s1600/redmaple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4P8DSGlxAco/TV7f6JzeCEI/AAAAAAAAADA/HjW0ENLiMtQ/s320/redmaple.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Serene's sketch of red maple - form, bark, bud, and twig.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-43665843601799882312011-02-01T20:18:00.000-08:002011-02-03T09:16:35.272-08:00NHVSP 2011 Update 4<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dear readers,</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKpEsZQJI/AAAAAAAAACI/lSt7zn-qVOY/s1600/Peter+Marques.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKpEsZQJI/AAAAAAAAACI/lSt7zn-qVOY/s400/Peter+Marques.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter Marques from Tentsmiths</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"> We returned from Conway last night and now I sit here and write the last update before we leave for the trail. The grand, juicy piece of the last week is, of course, our trip to Conway, where we sewed our tent with Peter and Phyllis of Tentsmiths Company, the top company for replicating authentic tents. </span><span style="font-size: small;">Almost as impressive as the tentmakers themselves were the sewing machines, which could stitch up to 5000 stitches per second, and were computerized to back tack for you and cut the thread. Back tacking is the reinforcement added at the beginning and end of a stitch so it will not wear off easily.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><style>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjK9NI0qtI/AAAAAAAAACQ/I9HFJxFxtWQ/s1600/new+tent.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjK9NI0qtI/AAAAAAAAACQ/I9HFJxFxtWQ/s640/new+tent.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new semester tent</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">We arrived in Conway on Monday and jogged through the town while eating apples to the sewing company. We then heard a fascinating one-and-a-half our lecture about tents, seams and fabrics. We went to our hostel room and each had a shower and went to bed.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> The next day we divided into two groups. One group worked with Peter and Phyllis, cutting out tent patterns and starting to stitch together the roof and walls. Working with master sewers and sewing machines was very enjoyable, and personally I couldn’t take my eyes off the machine for the whole day except for a quick lunch break. The other group went on a remarkable expedition with Misha. They climbed up Mt. Washington and had an amazing adventure. I wasn’t there, so Tobias will tell you about the adventure:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Our day started early. We were woken up by Misha’s urgent/excited voice long before sunrise. Everything had been loaded up the night before so immediately after a cheesy breakfast (cheesy as in there was lots of cheese) Tim, Julian, Mathilde, Rosa, Jon, Misha and myself (I’m Tobias) plopped our sleepy selves into the red Kroka van. It was a cloudy day and we couldn’t see any of the massive mountains that we knew existed all around us. In fact, our first glimpse of Mt Washington was a third of the way up the road to the Pinkham Notch headquarters where we picked up a trail and started skiing up the biggest mountain in the northeast! Most of us found out soon enough that it’s easier to hike up Mt Washington than to ski up it. One by one we put our skis on our packs and trekked. Misha skied up a good third of that mountain before he had a good slip backwards and exclaimed, “no more skiing.” </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hour after hour we watched the tall trees turn into small trees and small trees turn to shrubs and rocks until we finally emerged above tree line at the bottom of Tuckerman’s Ravine, a popular springtime skiing venue. We lost the trail in the deep snow, but we didn’t need a trail, silly! We only had to go upwards. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;">After a long climb the trail flattened out, but the wind at the top was bad. Or at least at that point we thought it was bad wind, we later found out it was just a light tickle from the mammoth force of nature. We continued toward the summit, but visibility was bad and the wind was picking up. We could see about 20 feet ahead and were relying on the rock formations that lined our trail. Finally we saw a building, found the road and took shelter from the wind in the entryway of the weather station at the top. As we were eating sticks of butter, dancing for warmth and trying to figure out how to get to the road that would lead us down, the door to the weather station swung open. “Oh!” yelled the surprised weatherman. “Is everyone ok?” we assured him we were fine. After one last warm-up dance we started down. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="font-size: small;">We put our skis on and soon hit miles of beautifully groomed downhill trails. We made it back to the van around 4:30. We have no pictures, only memories. The world will never understand this life changing event but we have it for ourselves.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.75in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;">-<span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Tobias Yandow</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">The next day, the groups switched. The climbers helped Peter and Phyllis sew our tent together while my group of seven took a lift to the top of Mt Wildcat and skied down the 13 miles of the Wildcat Valley trail. Conditions were amazing and the steep backcountry trail challenged all of us. We flew down the mountain, falling many times, but always getting up with a cheer. At some point we hit groomed trails, the most ideal skiing situation available. However, we had to branch off our route, back into ungroomed backcountry trails, we skied through the backcountry for several hours until reaching the van.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKzV4n10I/AAAAAAAAACM/knpQehYHZHA/s320/plotting+biscuit+amounts.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="213" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosa planning biscuit amounts with Nate</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjLFH8T6VI/AAAAAAAAACU/hx7t1XgUEOM/s1600/Food+packout.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjLFH8T6VI/AAAAAAAAACU/hx7t1XgUEOM/s320/Food+packout.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chloe packing peanut butter</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;">We are now deep in direct preparation for the expedition, packing food, gear and clothes for the trail. We are eagerly awaiting parents weekend, and the final sendoff!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> -Nimrod Sadeh</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>HAPPY 58<sup>th</sup> BIRTHDAY LISL!!!</b></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u></u> <u>The Poets Yurt</u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjLKZNDwqI/AAAAAAAAACY/cQYIur1Umow/s1600/ice+hole.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjLKZNDwqI/AAAAAAAAACY/cQYIur1Umow/s320/ice+hole.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dip into the icy cold water after the sauna</td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Sequoia sempervirens</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Rooted deep in the serpentine soil</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">For thousands of years you stand,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sword ferns bowing at your feet.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Satiated by the cool, moist air,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Under your outstretched arms.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">On an otherwise scorching July day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">How is it that you have such great posture,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">When you stand three hundred and fifty feet tall?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> -Jake Olsan</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Self knowledge is a tricky thing</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is a constant see-saw</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of teetering, trying to find</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The point of balance.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We fan and pick ourselves up</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Again, wiping the dirt away</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">always stronger because of it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I watch as the days go by</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And my work deepens</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My mind changes</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> -Serene Summerfield</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKdqbtQTI/AAAAAAAAACE/9KQ83u-Kxsc/s1600/chicken+slaughter.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKdqbtQTI/AAAAAAAAACE/9KQ83u-Kxsc/s320/chicken+slaughter.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zane and Sam </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKaM5w55I/AAAAAAAAACA/0j8bKcFez04/s1600/chicken+slaughter+2.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKaM5w55I/AAAAAAAAACA/0j8bKcFez04/s320/chicken+slaughter+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosa and Serene </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">A cardboard box of chickens.</span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TUjKdqbtQTI/AAAAAAAAACE/9KQ83u-Kxsc/s1600/chicken+slaughter.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">I carried the unsuspecting hens to</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">A traffic cone cut short</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">A well sharpened knife</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">A careful willing hand</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Snow stained red</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Gutting washing plucking</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">A bowl of chicken soup.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"> -Tim Morse</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quote of the Trail: “Some people cause happiness wherever they go” Oscar Wilde.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 0.5in; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Today is February 1st, our expedition has begun. The next update will arrive from our first layover at Farm and Wilderness on February 18. </span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching Lake Warren</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally our backpacks are packed and we are on the way</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NHVSP 2011 departing from Marlow, NH - 300 miles of skiing ahead of us!!!!</td></tr>
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</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-18980720780303932542011-01-25T20:42:00.000-08:002011-01-25T20:42:42.959-08:00NHVSP 2011 Update 3<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hHemqC_I/AAAAAAAAABg/Sjb0OzVBYfU/s1600/IMG_0769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hHemqC_I/AAAAAAAAABg/Sjb0OzVBYfU/s400/IMG_0769.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Expedition preparation with Misha</td></tr>
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</a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Our knives are named, our stuff sacks are all sewn and our mitten shells are completed as we keep preparing for the winter expedition. Almost every day now, we have expedition preparation with Misha. Today we received our compasses and laid out all the 30+ maps on the yurt’s floor. We found our route north through the Green Mountains of Vermont. Misha and head navigator Julian gave us a navigation/map reading class and told us of the terrain we will face on the trail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -.3in; text-indent: .15in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">After being taught yogurt making by Emily, we tried our own yogurt. It was delicious, but watery. We think it was too warm during its incubation period, the eight hours in which yogurt has to sit, undisturbed, at about 46°C. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -.3in; text-indent: .15in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hg0t-p3I/AAAAAAAAABs/LVsxqffVLlM/s1600/IMG_0775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hg0t-p3I/AAAAAAAAABs/LVsxqffVLlM/s320/IMG_0775.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another veggie dehydration party<br />
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</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>Our trail food manager Rosa has been on a roll with drying sourdough biscuits, vegetables and jerky. We have spent many nights crying around the table of the big yurt while cutting a sack of onions to dry. We have been experimenting with all kinds of sourdough: from dry biscuits for the trail to pizza, pancakes and brownies.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The weather has been fine up here in Marlow, blessing us with a very snowy winter. Only yesterday the weather angels went astray and sent us a wave of sleet, covering all the snow with a layer of ice. From experience I can tell you that there is almost no way of slowing down or turning while skiing downhill on ice. We hope that the upcoming snow will cover the ice before we go on expedition on February 1<sup>st</sup>. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">With the weather came a wave of illness, which has been sweeping through Kroka village, leaving students and teachers left and right with nasal congestion and coughing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many theories have arisen about how we all became sick: some say it’s the cold (though it’s been heating up here lately) and some, like myself, say it’s because we’re not outside enough. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Tomorrow we will be going to Granite Gorge for downhill skiing, with a lift ticket! We are all very excited for this opportunity to practice our snowplows and tele-turns, in addition to adding variety to our routine of sewing and skiing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hj6QppoI/AAAAAAAAABw/HE9R-ioGbx8/s1600/IMG_0608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hj6QppoI/AAAAAAAAABw/HE9R-ioGbx8/s320/IMG_0608.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mathilde Vikene from Norway</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>After being taught about the properties of Egyptian cotton, a strong, tightly woven fabric, we will be going to Conway for 3 days to sew the tent with master sewers from Tentsmiths company, who make traditional tents which are often seen in movies.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">That is all for this week. The next update should come right before parent weekend!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-Nimrod <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>The Poet’s Yurt<o:p></o:p></u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Silent needles knit <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The fabric of my sanity,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Weaving calm consciousness<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Into the cluttered rush of my mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Time fades with each stitch,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">For each row a moment in my life.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The finished work will tell a story,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Not of fame and glory, no<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of inner growth and letting things go<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">And so I’ve found knitting lets your mind flow,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> In a special way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> A kind of meditation<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Like a monk in a <i>crazy creek.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-Zane Reid<o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left; text-indent: 0.15in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Quote of the Trail: <o:p>"Perseverance, secret to all triumphs" -Victor Hugo</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hqIXW14I/AAAAAAAAAB4/91KRBzswdVU/s1600/IMG_0717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hqIXW14I/AAAAAAAAAB4/91KRBzswdVU/s320/IMG_0717.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosa conquering the big hill</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">"The people I love the best can’t fit into a stereotype, or even necessarily, a generic sneaker size. The people I love the best are entirely their own, present in whatever form they represent. The people I love best are forever honest, to themselves and to others. The people I love the best, love themselves, their own skin, their own bones and soul. The people I love the best, get so much love and hard work from me, for I love their rhythms, uniquely radiant. For, the people I love the best are the people whom <b>I love the best."</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-Chloe Walier<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .15in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hnueyYeI/AAAAAAAAAB0/S3YK-Or9Mv4/s1600/IMG_0696.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hnueyYeI/AAAAAAAAAB0/S3YK-Or9Mv4/s320/IMG_0696.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tobias </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hVhY2MUI/AAAAAAAAABo/lhUwjHczMBE/s1600/IMG_2807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hVhY2MUI/AAAAAAAAABo/lhUwjHczMBE/s320/IMG_2807.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tim drilling holes in our skis</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hLG2S8JI/AAAAAAAAABk/r1fPGYR9OxM/s1600/IMG_4025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TT-hLG2S8JI/AAAAAAAAABk/r1fPGYR9OxM/s320/IMG_4025.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Serene and Julian </td></tr>
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</div><!--EndFragment-->Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-51974257614935287272011-01-18T07:35:00.000-08:002011-01-18T12:35:41.079-08:00NHVSP 2011 Update 2<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWvfdDzH4I/AAAAAAAAABM/fOAU27XHcE0/s1600/IMG_0591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWvfdDzH4I/AAAAAAAAABM/fOAU27XHcE0/s400/IMG_0591.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New Hampshire Semester 2011</td></tr>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; font-family: Times;"></span></u></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><u><br />
</u></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><u>Second NHVSP Update!<o:p></o:p></u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWuuArVd7I/AAAAAAAAABI/dgwROQ4Bz_M/s1600/IMG_0613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWuuArVd7I/AAAAAAAAABI/dgwROQ4Bz_M/s320/IMG_0613.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First ski expedtion</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>The first update seems like yesterday and already, limbs aching from our first daylong ski, I’m typing up the next! Our knives resting in their sheaths, ready to use, and now we await the naming ceremony, in which each one of us will give our knife a special name. Every day, we progress farther towards our goal: to be ready for February, when we start skiing north.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">The last day in the workshop was well remembered. It was the day when we finished our handle and used our blades for the first time; cutting the leather for the sheath. We made 13 beautiful sheaths with personal and unique designs. We then each wrote our first NH-VT Semester 2011 Main Lesson Book page, a neatly designed and written page with personal reflections about the meaning of having a self-made knife. As a Waldorf student (in Waldorf education, school books are made in a similar way), I noticed that my fellow students and I were giving more attention and care to the knife project and the page than we would normally have done at school.<o:p></o:p></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-right: 1em; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWyVDJySbI/AAAAAAAAABc/zdSOmFUPUfI/s1600/IMG_0764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWyVDJySbI/AAAAAAAAABc/zdSOmFUPUfI/s400/IMG_0764.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Our handmade knives and sheaths</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWuF3-KI6I/AAAAAAAAABE/_4TCsn0QJ6w/s1600/IMG_0562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWuF3-KI6I/AAAAAAAAABE/_4TCsn0QJ6w/s320/IMG_0562.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Food dehydration </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>Today we went on the first real trial for the navigator (Julian) and trail food manager (Rosa) – a day trip around the area with our skis. Some of us, like myself, carried packs filled with food and extra layers for everyone, getting the feel of skiing with a backpack for the first time. After the huge blizzard yesterday, the snow is very deep (two feet) and powdery - a perfect opportunity to practice our trail-breaking technique for the winter! The first person in line skis as hard as he or she can for 30 seconds to break a trail in the mass of white powder. Then, he or she stands aside and gets in the back of the line, and the next person in line takes over breaking the trail. We also learned about layering and the importance of carrying a warm extra layer with us on the trail, and pulling it out of the pack quickly anytime we stop, before the heat generated by the exercise is gone.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">After the night’s break I am back, writing this update while half of the group is busy learning to use the sewing machines and beginning their stuff-sack projects. They are not using scissors to cut the thread; they’re using their handmade knife. Later we will go skiing. We will work more diligently then ever on our skiing skills because Misha told us of the great adventure we will have before we hit the trail. We are going to wake up early, drive to the white mountains, ascend the great peak of the tallest of them, and ski all the way down the glorious slopes of Mt. Washington.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> -Nimrod<o:p></o:p></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWvtmicyfI/AAAAAAAAABQ/T14gcvYCt34/s1600/IMG_0602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWvtmicyfI/AAAAAAAAABQ/T14gcvYCt34/s320/IMG_0602.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nimrod leading the pack</td></tr>
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 14pt;"><u>The Poet’s Yurt <o:p></o:p></u></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11pt;">(Where our poetic creations go)<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I like winter<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I like cats.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I don’t think cats like winter,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">They get lost in the snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I wonder if cats like me<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">As much as I like winter.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I wonder if I would like winter<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">If I was a cat.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I wonder if liking winter<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Has to do with being taller than the<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Maybe I should go out west,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">And find out.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> -Tobias Yandow<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">“Standing at the top of the hill, looking down at the snow, the jump, and the box behind. My goal today is to clear the box. Still standing at the top, looking ahead, I can see this jump as a metaphor for the whole Kroka experience. I see the run to the jump as the first three weeks here at Kroka base camp. The jump itself is the scramble to get ready for the expedition. Now I am flying through the air. For a few seconds the world rushes by like it will on the river and trail. And finally the landing. Coming softly back to earth like we will return here, to Kroka. And the final projects we do once we return will be like the final turn I make to slow down and come to a final stop. Sweet!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> -Tim Morse<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWwjWmkpcI/AAAAAAAAABY/yUN1T2yisTk/s1600/IMG_0737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWwjWmkpcI/AAAAAAAAABY/yUN1T2yisTk/s320/IMG_0737.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ski expert Tim from Maine</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span>“The people I love the best are gone<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">They walk, leading their lives<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I sit, watching mine lead me<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">That is not to say I love them less<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">I love them as myself<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">But that is not enough<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Perhaps more<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Like stone their feeble minds<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">In solidarity with my actions<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Practice, being held separate<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Love, being blind to the both<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><i>-Jacob Olsan<o:p></o:p></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">Quote of the Trail: “the people I like best, jump into work head first” –Marge Piercy<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 258.4pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .15in;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Julian, triumphant at the bottom of the rock</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWpOtA4pcI/AAAAAAAAABA/ypcfWdTEU_E/s1600/IMG_2854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TTWpOtA4pcI/AAAAAAAAABA/ypcfWdTEU_E/s320/IMG_2854.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam, one of our many musicians</td></tr>
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</div>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7956857990664072269.post-46176090468515976172011-01-13T09:55:00.000-08:002011-09-23T07:00:26.886-07:00NHVSP 2011 Update 1<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8s1Edk18I/AAAAAAAAAAk/xzbSgq0L288/s1600/IMG_0164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8s1Edk18I/AAAAAAAAAAk/xzbSgq0L288/s640/IMG_0164.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first skiing lesson with Misha</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8uNBV9QgI/AAAAAAAAAAo/30QuAmWLrxU/s1600/IMG_2748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8uNBV9QgI/AAAAAAAAAAo/30QuAmWLrxU/s320/IMG_2748.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Tim Morse and Rosa DeJong</td></tr>
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';">After arriving on Wednesday and eating the traditional Kroka potluck, we said goodbye to our parents and started the five month long journey with our teachers Nate, Lisl and Lu. We are a group of 13 students:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Sam</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (16) from New Hampshire – likes long walks on the beach, poetry and rose gardening.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16pt;"><u><o:p></o:p></u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Bridie</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (17) from Vermont – likes singing, fishing, archery, hiking and puddle jumping. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Jon </b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (20) from Florida – enjoys beaver dams/ponds/ the beaver themselves, banjo and carving holes in the ice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Julian</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (16) from New Jersey – likes soccer and getting caught in the rain.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Rosa</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (17) from New York – loves trees, long underwear, fresh air, drawing and being alive.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Mathilde</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (20) from Norway – enjoys wintertime dipping, skiing, singing, making things by hand and laughing.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Tim</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (15) from Maine – appreciates food, sleep, sailing and skiing jumps.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Jake</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (17) from California – likes banjo, jam bands, riding bicycles, downhill skiing, climbing, hiking, music, art, forests and fishing. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Zane</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (16) from Massachusetts – enjoys snowboarding, carving, camping, writing songs and books, sitting with a good group of people and chatting.<o:p></o:p></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; padding: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8yxfkQE5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/3jxfp1RFZwY/s1600/IMG_2814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8yxfkQE5I/AAAAAAAAAA4/3jxfp1RFZwY/s320/IMG_2814.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Tim, our ski manager, drilling holes in skis</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Serene</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (20) from Colorado – loves the ocean, hiking, dipping beeswax candles, hugs, singing, circles, collecting stones, laughing and living.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Chloe</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (18) from New Hampshire – appreciates a good session of knitting, with a nice cup of tea, a rip-roarin’ contra dance and straight gigglin’.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><b>Tobias</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (17) from Vermont – loves snacks, packs, flax, hugs, cakes, gloves, jet packs, mountains, cheese, dirt, power metal, cats, couches, running through the darkness, greeting the morning and wizards.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Myself, <b>Nimrod</b></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> (16) from Pennsylvania - I like reading, carving, cooking, writing updates and more.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8zNEmOb-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/YW48p_K1qOM/s1600/IMG_2764.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8zNEmOb-I/AAAAAAAAAA8/YW48p_K1qOM/s320/IMG_2764.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">The knife handle takes shape</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">On Thursday, we set out on our next great adventure – skiing with Misha! We tumbled and rolled in the snow but managed to follow a straight line by the end of the morning’s class. We had loads to do after lunch. Some of us started knitting a hat with earflaps, while others went with Nate to the workshop to begin working on our hand-carved, cherry-burl knife handles. Everyone made good progress. Chloe broke the end of the saw she was working with and set the tip deep within her knife handle. Then, we enjoyed dinner together and settled down for the evening.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We are now more settled into the rhythm of the day. We get up at 6:15 and do our chores; some split firewood, some cook, some sweep, until breakfast. We then have our morning class, lunch, afternoon class, two hours of free time and, before we know it, dinner is served, the indoor evening class is spent and we go to bed in our sod-covered lodges and our warm sleeping bags. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We are all assigned big jobs: some are responsible for the maintenance of the camp, some organize our food schedule and make sure we eat a healthy diet, I write this update and more. Zane was first to act on his job as Medic after Tobias cut his finger, and we all hailed that moment as our duties settled in, bringing on our shoulders a weight of responsibility most of us never felt before. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">On Friday, we went on a bushwhacking ski run around Kroka to experience what is it is to ski in the wilderness. Every day, we learn new things and prepare for February, when our 300-mile skiing expedition will begin. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">-Nimrod<o:p></o:p></span></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-bottom: 0.5em; padding: 6px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8slNTVZDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/tRSG5q-5nq8/s1600/IMG_2796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8slNTVZDI/AAAAAAAAAAg/tRSG5q-5nq8/s320/IMG_2796.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">The knitting has begun</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8wrBdMF_I/AAAAAAAAAAw/F5bSXOc703E/s1600/IMG_2771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Gb7IG2Ys6yU/TS8wrBdMF_I/AAAAAAAAAAw/F5bSXOc703E/s320/IMG_2771.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Mathilde Vikene and Nate</td></tr>
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</u></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><i><u>The Poet’s Yurt<o:p></o:p></u></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Snowflakes falling soundlessly,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Swinging gently from side to side<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">On their way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">A small creek rushing past stones,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Conquering branches in its path.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Green leaves, yellow-green, newborn -<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Just there, you can barely see them -<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Smelling the first air out of their shells, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hear that sound? That’s the wind blowing,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There must be pines near, they have their <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Own special sound.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">A bird flying high, the new from the next hilltop.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">A comforting hand on a shoulder, a shared glance.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Oh! She shouts, not only with voice, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">But with her whole body<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">That’s amazing!<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The beauty of the world “resonates” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">In the cavity of her chest,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Playing her heart strings,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Flowing out of her throat.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">May these months bring this girl closer to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> -Matilde Vikene<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>The Wrong Knob<o:p></o:p></u></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Crummy and smelly is how I felt, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Days of toil do that to a man. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Warm I was, under my layers, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then suddenly freezing, pain, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Courageously thrusting my head through the stream<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Searing, no, flowing down my back,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Torturing, no, healing my skin.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then it’s over: “Oh refreshing!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I felt elated, because in my shower,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I just did luckily, turn the wrong knob.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px;">- Julian Dahl </span></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 0.5em; padding: 6px; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Jon </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Jake </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Kroka Semester Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06273785835730041910noreply@blogger.com0