Note: New blog to follow!

Hey everyone!

I have a short announcement to make about the blog our current Earth Skills Circle the Seasons student Connor O'Malley is writing about his year here at Hawk Circle. He has some great photos and is going to post about his experiences and skills training too. Check it out! It's called, oddly enough, Circle the Seasons.

More info to come soon about 2009 workshops, camps and programs!

Help from the Wilderness: My new eBook Wolverine Survival.

I just finished my eBook Wolverine Survival: Ten Secrets of Wilderness Survival to help you Survive the Economic Storm.

It was hard to keep it short. It was hard to cut out all kinds of stories and examples of each principle, to make it clear, to the point and get it out in a timely way. It was good to write, and see how these secret principles are woven throughout every part of my life and outlook on the world.

I don't know if you are in trouble, or worried, or what. It doesn't matter. The bottom line is, these principles can help clear through the fog that fear creates, and offer something of power. A path. A direction. Allies and partners....

I hope you and your family, your business, your community, are ok. I know that even if you are, you are still feeling it. The storm is vast and reaching across the globe in it's scope and impact. If you don't feel it right now, you will.

And it is a good thing, too. We need a wake up call. We need to make some adjustments, and change. It will force us to think in different ways. To work together to find solutions. To see the world a little differently. To recognize, grow and thrive.

I don't like to be afraid. What is the opposite of fear?

Trust.

In the long run, it's the mental game that gives us the ability to weather storms, whether they are actual blizzards or just storms of change. It is our mind and our hearts and our faith in the world that gives us strength to find a way to survive. So that is what I focused on.

Well, I hope it helps.
Let me know what you think.

Thanks and keep walking the good road.

Ricardo

The Winter Intensive 2009 Down the Frozen Rabbit Hole!

We started with snow shelters and moved on to fire. Lots and lots of fire! Tinder studies. Tipi fires. One Match fires. Flint and steel fires. Wet tinder and wood fires, after rain and freezing rain for 24 hours. Then, it was bow and drill, followed by hand drill and even some fire plow just for fun!

Fun Fact: Doing a hand drill or bow drill in the snow with below zero wind chills is not as easy as it sounds! It really takes a lot of time to get that board, the drill and the tinder warmed up enough before you can start to make a coal, and the uneven snow does keep things interesting too!

I am having a blast. The students are totally into every thing we do, including making traps, setting up bait stations to see what types of buds and twigs the rabbits prefer, and all kinds of crafts, too. We even tried our hand at ice fishing, although we didn't get any bits, so that wasn't as fun!

Tracking has been good, and it has been frozen and cold all last week. We made a fire in the snow one day and it was a good sized fire, about the size of a thirteen gallon trash can. At 0ºF, I needed to be about eight inches away from the flames to actually feel the warmth from it, in the open air. Water bottles and food freezes solid in an hour if left exposed. Have you ever tried carving up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich! That's what I'm talking about!

Trista has made powerbars, energy bars, pine needle tea, birch beer and even a birch healing salve for our dried and cracked skin. We enjoy sitting around the table, sharing meals and talking about our experiences, our stories, kicking back around the woodstove and drying our mittens and socks... (Someone has to do it!)

We dried meat for the trek, but most everyone ate all of the meat while we were drying it, because it was so good. We have some good coal burned spoons, and the soapstone sculptures are really nice too. Everyone is supportive, positive, motivated and hard working. I couldn't ask for a better group of students to teach and enjoy the winter days.

We have a week left, and tomorrow they are heading off for the four days. I will be there most of the time, and we should get some good tracking in, and maybe do some new things with fire, or some birch bark crafts, or even snow goggles!

When we return, we have some community celebrating to do, as well as a sweatlodge ceremony, to ground our experiences together in spirit and the earth.

I am going to miss everyone when this class is over.

A Week with My Son, Javier

When Javi started falling asleep while we were trick or treating for Halloween, we knew something wasn't right. It was a cold night but not too cold, and he just couldn't get warm and he couldn't stay awake. He just wanted to push his head back as far as it could go and then keep his eyes closed, like the light hurt his eyes....

We went home immediately and let him rest, sleep a little, and he woke up an hour later, had some candy and seemed a little better. He said he had headaches and that he didn't feel good, but there was no cough, no fever, no other things that usually go with the flu, or a cold. Trista and I got that familiar feeling in the pit of our stomachs, like we were going to be going through something really hard again.

Javi was born with spina bifida, and he can't walk. He has poor balance at times, and it is difficult for him to do crafts or write or do artwork. He has a v.p. shunt, because he has hydrocephalus, which is too much cerebral spinal fluid in the brain. Usually it flows and bathes and is absorbed along our spinal column, but for him, it doesn't work that way. So the shunt helps that to be okay.

Except when it doesn't. Sometimes, they stop working. He had problems with it five years ago, and he had it revised. Which meant surgery, and it was hard for us, but it worked out and we made it through. He was a lot younger then, and it was touch and go. But the neurosurgeons were really good and everyone took great care of him and it was done quickly when they realized that it was needed, so he was able to recover with no problems.

In this current case, however, he didn't show all of the signs of shunt failure that indicate that that was what was happening. He would sleep through the night and have periods of feeling better. He had a huge appetite, which is almost the opposite indicator. When he wasn't feeling better by Monday, we took him in to see his pediatrician and he said it looked like he just had a virus that contributed to some migraines. "It could be ten days before he would feel a lot better, but that it didn't seem anything more serious than that." We tried to breathe a little easier, but it was shallow breathing. I'll admit it.

I tried to work through the days that followed, but it was really hard. I couldn't concentrate, and I hated leaving him with Trista, worrying that if something were to happen, I wouldn't be there to help her. He is getting big now, about 55 lbs, and she has trouble lifting him, so I tend to stay close throughout the day, so she doesn't hurt her back.

On Thursday, he was worse, and the Tylenol we were giving him wasn't touching the pain. We packed some things because we knew we were taking him in to the hospital and there was no telling what might happen or when we might get out. Javi was feeling so out of it he didn't really have time to get nervous or worried about it. That is the good thing about being that sick, I guess. You don't have time to get freaked out. Unfortunately, neither Trista or myself were sick, so we could go through the full range of emotions.

They took an MRI when we got to the local hospital here in Cooperstown, and then they sent us to Albany Med, where they have a Children's Hospital. I rode in the Ambulance, and Javi kept talking about his brother Matthew coming to see him, and wanting to know if he could have chocolate chip pancakes when he got home, and would he be out of the hospital in time to see his sister's play. It was hard to ride with him and comfort him, holding his hand, but I know it was harder for Trista, following us in the car. I could tell she was crying the whole way.

We got to the ER and eventually got admitted by the early evening. The neurosurgeons wanted to find out if he had pressure on his optic nerves, so they had a young doctor come to test him, carrying a huge black bag with her portable lab equipment. She should have had a cart, honestly. She checked his eyes, from top to bottom, and said he seemed okay.

I don't know how to describe being in the hospital for those first few hours. It is like holding your breath, constantly, and waiting endlessly for whoever was trying to figure out what was happening to come by and talk to you. The nurses checked him every fifteen minutes, so he wasn't really sleeping, and we were on the edge of our seats, watching for signs of improvement, then offering that info to the doctors and nurses. They wouldn't let him eat, because they were worried that he would need surgery, so Javi kept talking about food in a voice that was unusual for him. It was kind of flat, I guess, would be the best way to describe it, without the usual hills and valleys of expression. Very different for our little guy, who is so vocal and talkative most of the time. I could tell it was driving him crazy to be so hungry, but he hung in there.....

Finally, they let him eat, and said they would just observe him for a while to see if they could determine the reason for his headaches. Javi felt a little better, too, and after eating, he was able to hang out a little and even watch TV. But he was really tired. We were officially admitted, and headed up the the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit.

The doctors didn't want to do the surgery unless they could tell for sure that it actually was a shunt problem. After all, who wants to have any surgery on the chance that it might not help you? We sure didn't, but on the other hand, it was hard to have him feeling so bad for so long.... and not know how to get him help to make him feel better.

I walked through the hallways, so emotionally raw, trying to think of something we could do to help him. Trista called a medical intuitive, which was marginally helpful. We were just there with him, all of the time, so he never felt alone. We took turns sleeping after a while, because by Sunday, we were wiped out. Still nothing conclusive.

I'd head downstairs to get food from the cafe, and I could see other parents or sons or daughters, moving in a daze, just trying to breathe and get through each moment. I tried to find a way to smile at them, even as I knew my face was probably just as transparent. I saw doctors and nurses and adminstrators moving about, quickly getting food before heading back to work.

I admired their ability to do this kind of work, and to be around people in their greatest moments of need. Life and death, pain and suffering, healing and wellness, all rolled into one big series of buildings, with teams of people trained for years to be the best, the smartest, the most attentive to the smallest details, because everything hinges on really helping those in need.

I saw the many floors, with hundreds of people, with hard jobs and simple jobs, to keep this whole place clean, in top working order, organized and in sync. I was amazed and grateful that this team was working to help my son, as he lay in pain, and I was helpless to do anything for him except hold his hand, or get him juice or whatever he needed. I didn't know what to say to these doctors and nurses, all of whom seemed to be ten years younger than me, but fully competent and able and attentive to my son's needs. They were so caring!

When we realized that there was a wireless connection in the hospital, I sent out a newsletter about our programs but with an update to let our greater Hawk Circle community know that we were there, with Javi, in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. We didn't have much to share about it, but it just felt important to let everyone know that he was there and that we were there with him and that we were doing everything we could.

Your responses just blew me away. They came back, one after the other, and I would tell Trista and she would ask me about who each person was if she didn't know already. Javi would ask too, and mostly he just tried to sleep. I felt like it was something we could do, I could do, which was to ask for help, and to let everyone who knew Javi be somehow, in some small way, be connected to him.

Javi doesn't go to school, and he doesn't have a lot of friends his own age. Most of his community of friends are the people of Hawk Circle, our community, who get to see him in a workshop, for a little while, or at the camp, or during our Earth Skills Semesters. He has people who take care of him, who provide speech and physical therapy, occupational therapy, and he has his family, which is scattered over the country usually. Cell phones aren't allowed in the PICU, so it was hard to stay in touch with everyone about how he was doing and not leave his side.

He got worse by Tuesday, and they decided to do surgery. That was a long two hours, let me tell you. On one hand, it is the worst feeling in the world to know your son needs surgery. On the other hand, it is better than sitting there, watching him get worse and fading from the world. So it was good, and scary and bad and everything, all rolled into one.

There were people waiting for sons, daughters, uncles and moms, all in surgery already or just going in. Some were just getting knee surgery, something that was needed but not life-threatening, and I was jealous of how easily they seemed to talk, how relaxed they were. I thought of all of the hospital shows, like Grey's Anatomy, or ER, or even Scrubs, where the doctor comes out and says 'I'm sorry... we did everything we could, blah blah blah' and I just couldn't bear to think of living my life without my son.

On the other hand, I did know that he was strong, that he was full of light, and that he would be okay, no matter what happened, because we are all beings of light, and this world is but one of many... But I still worried about him, being so young, and having to deal with all of this trauma and drama, with all of the other challenges he has to face, each day.

But each thing I thought just made my head spin, so Trista and I just tried to wait, and be present for each other and breathe. Jesse, his sister, came to the hospital and waited with us, and we all tried to just stay calm and comfort each other in this impersonal surgical waiting room.

The short version of this story is that the doctor came out and told us that he did great, the surgery went very well, and Javi was out of any danger and seeming to recover very well. We rushed upstairs to see him and he was sleeping. He was wiped out. Days of no sleep, just painful, crushing headaches, were finally relieved, and this blissfull sleep lay on him like a soft cloud. His head was shaved on one side, where they put the new shunt in, and covered with bandages. His small body smelled of the odor of the anesthetic, but he was resting, with real rest that was healing and good. We talked when he woke up, and his voice ws back, tired but back, and I just lost it. I was so grateful to him, for being so strong, and to the doctors, and the nurses, and the hospital employees, and to Trista, who was always here for him, and me too. I felt sick to my stomach, I was so happy.

I realized that I hadn't slept really either, and that probably made me more emotional than usual, but I didn't care. I met my mom, who flew in from California, and she took watch with Javi while Trista and I fell asleep in the Parent's Room. (Note: No one actually sleeps there, so they decided to get the most uncomfortable beds!)

Javi got better each day and we were soon home, but with a new appreciation for every day, for every moment with him and with our family. I was never so happy to sleep in my own bed, and make a fire in the woodstove and cook our own food and be together.

We still ask about the boy who was in the room across from ours, who had been in a car accident and didn't know who he was. He kept asking the nurses if he was in jail, and what happened, and he needed a lot of help from his own injuries. We all knew that while we went through our own trials, we were still going home. We were lucky. And grateful. And we prayed and sent good thoughts to that young man and his family.

The prayers and e-mails and good messages really meant everything to my family, when we were about as low as we could be. We could feel that support. I don't know how, but we could. It comforted us in our time of need. And I am thankful to everyone for it.

I could go on and on about things I saw, felt and heard but I think this is already the longest blog entry I have ever written. So I will stop. But there is a lot more I could write, believe me!

If you ever need help like we did, just let us know, and we will do the same. I hope you never need it, but if you do, we will be there. All of us. And Javi knows what it means now, too.

Somehow, I think he always did.

Vote, and then sign up for the Advanced Bird Language Course! Coming May 3-8, 2009

A lot of people think that learning bird language is just memorizing a bunch of bird songs. You know the type of naturalist, who can imitate any bird? (I am secretly jealous of those folks, even as I call them bird nerds!)

Anyway, this isn't that kind of class.

The bird language we are talking about is far more useful, universal and full of information. It is about understanding the mood of the birds. The tones they are using, and how, to be able to inform us about what is going on in the woods that we can't see.

In the summer, the foliage is so thick that it is almost impossible to see deer, coyotes, foxes or bobcats. In these situations, we really need our feathered brothers and sisters to help us get a clue as to what is moving about.

Not only is it cool, it can save someone's life.

Bird language can tell us through concentric rings, when someone is coming up the road, up the trail, with plenty of time to hide if you are alone and it is dangerous. Bird language can tell you if there are predators around, another good thing.

Bird language can also give us ways of moving through the forest where we don't set off the alarms that tell other people or animals, that we are there. Yes, I know! Isn't that cool?!

In other words, the secret of invisibility, true invisibility, is contained in these teachings.

Dan has worked hard for years to get them. He hasn't taught this course since the last time he was here, at Hawk Circle, in 2004. (On the East Coast, that is.) And he is a wealth of knowledge that I would venture to say, one of the top three people who could teach this course. He might be in a class of one. I'm not sure. He's humble and probably wouldn't even cop to that, so whatever. The bottom line is, I don't know where you would go to get an intensive like this.

Have you ever gone to a language course, and 'almost learned how to speak the language?' Yeah, it sucks. You are so close, and then you have to go home and you instantly forget it all. Well, that's why this isn't a short, introductory, weekend course for beginners. It's the real deal. You won't fall between the cracks, and you will actually learn to do this stuff. For real.

And, if you take the time to go out in your own neighborhood, your home, etc, and practice what you learned, then you will soon master the details. And it will change the way you see nature forever.

I use it all of the time. During deer hunting season. On tracking classes. On hikes, gathering or exploring. Or just around the home, to know where my cat is at all times, or my kids, or my students.

I invite you to come and be a part of this program. We are only opening this class up to 20 people, so if you are at all inclined to learn this, well, don't wait to get your application in and deposit. We might not run it again for a few years, and I don't know where else you will go to get this detailed look at a vital skill.

I hate writing the above paragraph, because it sounds like I am pandering to fear, etc. I totally don't want you to feel that way. I am just stating a solid fact about the course, our schedules and ability to bring Dan Gardoqui in for an intensive class, and saying, hey, if you are serious about learning, this is the time to do it.

There's plenty of advance notice. Make the time, find a way, figure it out, whatever. We hope you will join us and if you need to make payments to take the course, you can start now.

There are a lot of people who study wilderness skills, learn to make fire, make a little buckskin, sleep in a shelter a few times and notice a few tracks from time to time. They are great people who are taking their time learning this stuff, and they won't get better anytime soon. It is too slow of a pace for them to really grow and become truly connected to nature and the Earth.

If you want to grow, you have to make the effort. And the payoff is big. It is a sure thing, even. In these financial times, the investment in your own education, your own knowledge, is something you can bank on. Well, on a river bank, I guess!

Hope to see you there! Call or write with any questions and enjoy the exodus of the birds for the warmer climes!

Ricardo

Moving Past Fear: The Wilderness Survival Metaphor and Current Events

It doesn't take more than reading the front pages or watching the news to figure out that America is in trouble. The financial changes that are coming are going to be tough for a lot of people. A lot of our 'pillars of society' are crumbling and it can seem like our entire way of life will never be the same. But what is interesting is how our country, and even the world, is reacting as if we are all destroyed, and no one has died. Nothing has happened except that the concept of money, which is a societal creation, has changed. It has been exposed as 'the answer to our prayers' and we can't rely on it as our sole source of security and comfort.

As scary as all of this seems, life will move forward, and we will find ways to adjust, and move past the fear. In it's place will be people, working together, finding ways to connect, share and grow.

Some people won't be that lucky, though. The change is going to hit hard and it will take a long time to recover.

Being in these difficult situations isn't really the problem, however.

But the real issue here is the lack of leadership. Leaders can get everyone pointed in the right direction, working together and moving towards a common goal. Even if the direction isn't always the perfect answer, it helps us all to do something, rather than sit and wait. And we can adjust as we go, making small course changes rather than picking a far away goal and then working blindly towards it. Leaders are the people who are still confident that we will thrive and survive, and find a way to get to our goal along the way...

It helps in a crisis, to use the wilderness survival metaphor. In other words, what are our priorities? What are our 'needs'? What are our resources? Who are our allies?

In the wilderness, when you are lost or stuck, you have to do all of the above. You have to let go of your 'wants' and focus on your needs. You have to find shelter, clean water, have heat and food. You prioritize based on the weather, your resources and your family or group.

When you first realize that you are in a survival situation, you should be thankful for what you have, rather than complain about what you don't have. You have to stay positive, mentally, and believe that you will not only survive but thrive, from your experience.

In this financial storm, you should remember that our grandparents and elders survived the Great Depression, and they made sacrifices to get through. They have stories of people who helped and worked together to make their futures and grow through it all. It didn't last forever, and it spawned the greatest period of middle class success and productivity that America has known. (Yes, I know this can be argued everywhichway, but the bottom line is that most of America is not currently living at the same level of free-time, debt-free, leisure and family time of the 40's, 50's and 60's. The disparity of wealth is what it is.)

Survival thinking is not negative. It is about strategy, and trust, and learning skills to make life easier. One of my teachers, Tom Brown, Jr., often said, "If you are struggling in the wilderness, for any reason, it is because, quite simply, that your skills suck." Of course, this quote is both humorous and telling. It applies both to the wilderness and to life in society. Whenever I have been struggling in my work at Hawk Circle, I often think, "What skills do I need to learn or do better, to allow me to get past this struggle?" It works, far better than simply complaining, or looking for someone or something to blame.

I will talk more about these ideas in a few days, but let me know what you think about them, and if they are helpful to you in this time of change. Don't panic, and keep breathing. We are going to get through this, together!

Seeking Deer, Finding Strength

I am a hunter. I mean no offense to those of you who are vegetarians, for any reason, and I can understand, both rationally, and emotionally, that decision. I honor anyone for that.

However, I am a hunter, usually, just for deer. I also fish, when I get a chance, to feed my family and connect us to the natural world. I hunt to connect with the spirit of the deer, like hunters have done for millenia, to hunt and seek and test myself and stay strong. My awareness changes from that of a teacher and director to something more, something that fills me with wind, brush, autumn smells and cold air flowing down the mountain.

At this time of year, I walk through the forest, through the fields and old orchards, enjoying the flowers, the crisp blue sky and the smell of freshly fallen apples, but I am looking for any and all signs of the passing of deer. Tracks. Nibbled browse. Pushdowns through the tall grass. Piles of brown pellet scat.

The other day, I saw where the deer had moved from an open meadow to some thicker brush. I bent down and peered along the narrows where thin legs had passed. Just being in that place, looking in that way, I had the sensation of something wild inside of me coming alive. I saw hair pulled and stuck on a sharp stick, scraped off at shoulder height. I could almost feel the scratch in my own shoulder.

Even as I looked at the trail, I was seeing the whole landscape play before me, like an aerial camera. The swamp, the tangle of apples, the raspberries, the open maples, the ferns and grass, all of them with their options of concealment and vantage points. Where was this deer going? Where would it stop? Where would it lift it's nose and try to catch the scent of whatever was following it?

I stopped myself. The trail was days old, the story unfolding before me ancient history to this deer, who was probably up on the hill, bedded down for the afternoon, dozing in the warm sun and chewing last night's browse. Part of me shifted back to the 'rational me' but the native hunter part, the primal part, didn't want to let go of being alive, awake and in control. Even in just minutes of release, it felt good. My body felt good. I shivered, and walked on.

When I scout the trails and fields, I look for deer trails with heavy use. Frequent use. Which direction are they headed? Up or down? I find the feeding areas, the brush that has been browsed in the past few days. I look for oaks, with their dropping acorns, and I look for apples that have been crushed by molars, bits and pieces falling out of narrow mouths.

Deer need three to five pounds of browse, (read: woody, shrubby buds and branches, not grass) for their stomachs and digestion to work correctly. They can't just eat corn, or alfalfa, or clover. They need cover, to hide and break up their outline to predators, and they need places to go for water. They need solitude, even if it is just areas where humans almost never tread.

If there is an area where you never go because it is too thick with brush, brambles or general tree thickets, you can bet that is where the deer are spending a lot of time. Along with a lot of other animals....

Scouting these areas, I start to get a picture of what is going on this year, this season. Deer are creatures of habit, but they also don't waste energy and time. If there is a change in food sources, they will move to those sources. And change trails. You have to do your homework, pretty much all of the time.

At Hawk Circle, we have lots and lots of woods, cover and food. It is tough to hunt sometimes, because the deer can be literally anywhere, and they are difficult to predict. Which makes it a challenge. Some people I know hunt active farms, and there are more fields and meadows, with predictable lines of cover and trails, where deer have fewer choices in movement and bedding. In those cases, your scouting is a lot quicker.

I will be taking our Fall Earth Skills Semester students out to find these trails, scout the areas and explore what is going on. Usually, by the end of the day, they are very pumped to sit out and 'hunt', even if it is just with a camera. Some actually hunt, but it is very difficult with a native style bow for beginners to get close enough to even take a shot. But that doesn't keep us from trying and feeling that ancient hunter inside that makes us feel strong and alive and awake!

See you in the woods.