The Spark The Changed My Life--Part 5 {TSI}

Tree Stand Improvement

During the summer so far, there had been too many staff in base to open the staff dining hall. Now that the staff had been whittled down to only a few hundred, the staff dining hall opened for breakfast just in time for the first day of TSI crews. Another three weeks of TSI with completely new people was an overwhelming thought but the cozy atmosphere of the smaller dining hall soothed my tired and anxious self.

I headed to the Welcome Center where I was to meet my new crew. I knew not a single person on the list so I wandered around the picnic tables under the pavilion trying to figure out which group of people was mine. After asking nearly every group there if I was supposed to be with them, I finally found mine.

Armed with my day pack that was beginning to show some significant wear from the summers work, I got on the bus with my crew headed to, you guessed it, Lovers Leap. The backcountry still wasn’t cleared for overnight camping so we knew at least the first week would be day runs. I was honestly ok with that. After a day of hard physical labor in the sun, having a shower and sleeping in my own bed had become the norm and was more than welcome.

The days were long and hot but having a chainsaw seemed to help keep my mind a little more occupied so it didn’t focus on the heat quite as much. Our crew quickly bonded over laughs produced by the quick-witted and goofy people that made up the majority of the crew. We began the day with stretches and fun facts about each person (acting out our favorite vines was a personal favorite), did PI’s during lunch, and even had a movie night together at the end of the week.

The last day of the work week, some of the Philmont Staff Association (PSA) staff began what quickly became a favorite afternoon tradition. In the back of a suburban, they packed a cooler full of otter pops. It was one of, if not THE, hottest day of the summer and I was struggling. When the otter pops showed up, I grabbed a handful of them and stuck them down my shirt. My mood immediately improved as my body temperature dropped and my morale rose. With otter pops melting into warm pouches of neon-colored liquid in my shirt, I was able to finish the day off strong.

Being a sawyer wasn’t always great. At the end of the day, when the thing I wanted more than anything in the world was a shower, I still had to spend another hour sharpening and doing maintenance on my saw while hoping I’d get done before dinner closed. If I was lucky, I could get it done AND shower before dinner. This routine made for a long day and made me question if I had made the right decision to stay. The thought that I could be at home relaxing in my air conditioned house was a little painful.

The second week brought the exciting news that we would finally be staying in the backcountry overnight. This was great news until I found out that we’d be camping at Lovers Leap camp. After nearly two months of working in that area, I was ready for a change of scenery. This put me in some sort of miserable mood. The steak dinner we had been blessed with that night hardly lightened my bitterness. I angrily went to my tent to try to cool down. Melanie, one of my few friends left, stopped by to see if I wanted to hang out. I knew her humor could help my mood so I invited her in. Before we knew it, we were several hours into a funny youtube video marathon. The Philmont wifi, notorious for not working most of the time, was on our side that night to help lift my mood.

My A-frame.

Our first day back to work, we spent the first few hours setting up camp. I had been told we didn’t need to bring our own tents. What I hadn’t been made aware of is the fact that the tents available were the 20-some-year-old A-frame tents, mockingly named “Phil palaces”. I had heard of them but never actually seen or used one. As I set up my tent, surrounded by everyone else's much nicer tents, I prayed this janky thing would hold up for the week until I could get a newer one. The first night it rained and I woke up to a leak in the corner of my tent but it wasn’t much so I just ignored that warning sign. It hadn’t rained for more than a few minutes at a time all summer, after all.

Putting gas in my saw.

For the first full day of the week, we were given a special assignment to build a trail through new campsites being built at the Lovers Leap camp. I was the designated sawer for the day so I helped clear the path while everyone else worked on the trail. The change of pace in work was well welcomed. We finished the trail before the workday was over so we spent the last hour or so digging sumps in the campsites. Just as we were cleaning up and ready to head back to camp, the rain rolled in. We made it back before it really started to pick up.

Most of us crowded under the dining flies to wait out the storm. The rain came down in sheets for a good long while before letting up. When the clouds broke and the sun began to show through, a few people crawled out and went to check on our tents that were pitched in the nearby field. Ann came back bearing worrisome news that my tent was in bad shape. All I could do in response was laugh hysterically to stop myself from crying. We were only a day into the week-long run and I was so over it. I picked myself up out of my Crazy Creek chair and walked through the water that was running through our campsite toward the tents. My tent was flattened and there was plenty of water inside. To top it off, my sleeping bag was wet. After a radio call to base, a loaner sleeping bag was brought up for me and Ann let me stay in her tent with her the rest of the week.

Our Christmas tree propped on a wheelbarrow surrounded by gifts.

Midway through the week, it was July 25th--Christmas in July. For the past few days, we had looked for and chose a good Christmas tree (because our whole job was to cut them down--they were in great supply) to bring back to camp and set it up. After dinner, we gathered for our family Christmas celebration, first decorating the tree with whatever we could find (our nametags, melted otter pops, etc) and then exchanged the secret Santa gifts that we each had brought. While waiting for dinner, Regina and I had come up with a TSI parody of Jingle Bell Rock and shared it during the impromptu jam session that happened with some of the other crews.

Christmas family photo.

On top of Baldy with Ann.

My weekend off starting with a staff hike up Baldy. A train of suburbans was collected and everyone who chose to go piled in. We set off toward Copper Park where we would start the hike. I had never been to that camp before and was captivated by its beauty immediately. With instructions to return by the lofty goal of 1:45, the group set off. Ann and I decided to be hiking buddies bringing up the rear. About halfway up we decided to pass the slowest people, realizing that we really didn’t have a shot at getting back in time at the pace we were going. Just before 1, we finally summited. We spent a few minutes taking pictures and then started heading back down, knowing full well there was no way we would get back in half an hour. Dark clouds were starting to roll in so between the time and an imminent storm, we strode down the mountain in haste. The rain began near the bottom and was in full force as we reached the cars at about 3.

Cabin ruins near the top of the mountain.

My last week we finally got sent to the “real” backcountry at Miners Park. This meant we could store our food and cook in the cabin. It was also super close to our work area so we could get to our plot in less than a minute after breakfast. Our assigned plot had already been worked on but was very unfinished. We also determined that it was cursed because of all the close calls that happened. No matter how well we, the sawers, worked on a felling plan for each tree, more often than not, they would fall in an unexpected direction. This left us in sticky situations in which we had to problem solve how to get a partially felled tree out of the tree next to it or cut a chainsaw out of a tree that had pinched the bar of the saw and trapped it.

Gabe and Regina climbing on the rocks.

Evenings that week were always something to look forward to. With the porch, the crews spent more time together. One night, I braided the hair of 7 people--more guys than girls. Two of which were my TC mates in 2017 and now good friends, Daniel and Luke. Another night, a group of us from several crews hiked up to Betty’s Bra, the natural climbing rocks that are the main activity of the camp.

The last tree I felled.

My last morning in the backcountry, I gathered all my things and packed up to head to base one last time. Anna, one of the head conservationists, was visiting to check in on each crew. I had been eyeing a gnarly, intimidating looking tree for several days and really wanted to be the one to cut it down but had been too nervous given the poor track record of how felling had been going that work for everyone--especially me. This being my last day, it was my last chance to try it. I asked Anna to give me any pointers and to watch me to make sure I did it right.

After my final interview with my crew leaders, I put all my gear in Anna’s suburban and set off toward basecamp with her. She made stops at the other camps on the way back, checking on the crews and picking up other people who were leaving as well. We were stopped for a while by the wood mulcher, one of the newest additions to the TSI machinery. It was pulled by a pickup truck but took up most of the road so we watched piles of branches get demolished while we waited for our turn to pass.

When we made it back to base, I was given a few hours to wash up, return my chainsaw, and eat. Then I helped with chores in the conservation garage for the rest of the day. My final assignment was to plan how to better streamline the end of the week crew returning process. The previous week had been madness trying to get everyone's gear and extra food returned and stay organized. I made a plan and signs before dinner, excited for the challenge of helping the next day.

The crews wouldn’t be getting back until late morning so I was able to take things a little slower than I was used to. I took my time eating breakfast and starting to pack before going to set up my signs and caution tape at the Welcome Center. I had a table set up for each type of package: boxed, canned, trail meals, perishables, etc. Each crew was supposed to sort out their food as they got there. Did it work? Somewhat. But still not super well. I spent a couple hours with a few other people who volunteered to help organizing and packaging everything to return to the commissary. At 3 I was allowed to call it a day and check out.

At 6am on August 4th, I packed my trunk and other baggage in the bed of Devin’s truck. Devin was a mutual friend who I had met the previous fall at a Philmont reunion. A few weeks before, I had overheard him talking about when he was leaving which was the same day as me. So I asked if he had room for me since he would be passing through KC. He was happy to give me a ride along with another girl who lived near him. With the whole expanse of Kansas ahead of us, we set off into the sunrise.

This was my first time leaving Philmont in the morning, since trains leave in the evening. The feeling of leaving with the whole day to go was somewhat different from the past years. It wasn’t sad or hard. Just thankful and hopeful. Gratitude for what had been spared during the fire and hope that the backcountry would heal quickly. Gratitude for everyone who had worked to preserve the land and program and hope that the program would be able to resume stronger than ever the next year. Gratitude that I had been there to help and hope that I would be able to return to see the healing and growth.