Our project manager had described this hitch as ‘grueling’ in passing, and I had no idea what to expect. In a few short days, I was to leave for my next project, one that would take place in the towering San Juan Mountains near Pagosa Springs, Colorado. There was pleasure in work.Īfter two weeks spent in Flagstaff getting Wilderness First Aid certified as well as earning my A-Bucker certification with the Forest Service, my heart was in my throat. Mornings started at seven o’clock on the dot, and I looked forward to it. Evenings were spent in the breakroom, petting the small kitten that one employee brought in daily as it was too small to be home alone. My fingers and back were sore and aching, but I relished in it. We spent the next eight days oiling wood, cooking meals together, weed whacking, and cutting firewood. The fort was full of life, and the work was worthwhile. She was genuine and warm and felt like home. We had communicated via text prior to arriving in Flagstaff, and we immediately connected. The long ride was made better by the presence of my dear friend, Shay. My first hitch, or project, took me to Bent’s Old Fort, a historic site in Otero County, Colorado. I had never felt such love in one place- and I surrendered to it. Every activity had new meaning, new splendor- whether it was going cliff-jumping or walking downtown together. Breakfasts consisted of heart-shaped pancakes and joy. On weekends, I enjoyed walking down the street to the church, bringing my friends in tow. It was come one, come all, and I got used to skipping across the courtyard to visit my friends in the two houses that stood across from mine.Įvenings were spent playing games on the concrete, giggling with my four roommates, and finding solace in the walk around the neighborhood that became second nature. Trips to the grocery store felt as fun as going to the carnival, and the dinners that followed, crafted by the hands of once-strangers and enjoyed in the living rooms of our respective homes, were full of love. It was in this home that I fostered some of the closest connections I have ever experienced. After a shuttle ride through an expanse of desert and alpine forest, I stood in front of a small yellow house on a narrow street across from an elementary school- where I was to live for the next three months. I left in the middle of a simmering May and arrived at the Phoenix airport with a suitcase and my pack, thousands of miles away from home. Not knowing what hybridized orbitals were was the last thing on my mind. After an application, interview, and a few weeks of waiting, I heard back right before I left my dorm to take one of my final Chemistry exams. I came upon a Conservation Crew Member position with ACE on my school’s job board, and I applied. At the same time that this was happening, I had been looking for a position for the summer that would allow me to fully explore my passions regarding the outdoors. I changed my major to Parks, Recreation, and Tourism Management, and finished up with my last core classes. I ended up meeting with Kyle, and he gave me a tour of our campus’ Warnell School of Forestry and Natural Resources, describing the close connections that existed in this space, as well as the courses and majors offered. Titled ‘Cultural Heritage Tourism,’ we explored the complex interactions between humans and the environment. One of my courses was taught by my now friend and mentor, Dr. For months, as I trudged through Chemistry and Biology, I told myself that it was okay- I would do what I truly loved and aligned with later in life. I had been committed to the idea of going to medical school since I was eleven, and the thought of changing this seemed unthinkable. Prior to my term with ACE, I had just come off of a freshman year at the University of Georgia that involved a major change in what I thought the rest of my life would look like. I didn’t fully grasp this at the time that I decided to commit to a summer term with American Conservation Experience, but by the time I stood, stunned at the Atlanta airport in the beginning of August, it was difficult to put into words just how full of love that summer had been. Quite often, I have found myself staring down the barrel of a decision that, however daunting, would have the possibility to change the course of my life.
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