Skip to main content

Outdoor Education


Work experience

It’s the spring of seventy-seven. I am employed at K Mart. I’m not getting paid because I’m there to get experience. It’s called work experience and for one week I worked in the garden center. I figure since I’m not getting paid, to play hide and seek instead. I can hide behind pretty much anything: a shelving unit or a pile of peat moss. Unfortunately, they find me and put me to work. The hardest part of my unpaid job is loading peat moss into old ladies’ cars. Have you ever seen a walking peat moss bag? That was me. Stick a name badge on me. Pete Moss is at your service.

Hiding in the weeds

My next adventure in outdoor education takes place at a house on Arthur Road. The upper apartment is small and filled with smoke. The song Urgent by Foreigner sends sound waves through the skunk cloud. Little did we know, the song would fit the moments to follow. Stone kids are pigging out on Whoppers and fries. Suddenly, there is a pounding at the door. This is the Police, open up! I follow orders and open the window climb out onto the roof, jump off and run for the fields. Luckily, the fields behind the Big V drug store has not been mowed in twenty years, at least it seems that way. I’m hiding in a deep patch. A cop is three yards away but he can’t see me.  I learned a couple of things that day. One, I was hanging around with the wrong crowd and two, being small is not necessarily a bad thing.  I was lucky enough to escape. Others were not so lucky. It was a case of being in the wrong place at the right time.

Home grown

The education continues. There is a field across the street from my home. It sits behind Helisa’s Flower Shop and Country Style Donuts.  It was just big enough to hide a few plants. Harvest time was approaching and coincided perfectly with my parents' travel plans. We carried in the stash, laid it out on tinfoil and roasted it until it was dry. We threw away the seeds and the buds. Uneducated, in comparison to today's standards. We were kids. What did we know? When the air cleared in the kitchen he left with his green garbage bag. 

Another Chase

One day he had another green garbage bag. My pyro friend’s girlfriend lived on Grand Maris and so did a local bike gang. In fact, just a few doors down. The bike gang for some reason was not happy. I was riding my bike minding my own business. Suddenly, the Pyro kid flies by me with a green bag on his handlebars. I followed him to ask him what the problem was. That’s when I hear choppers coming from behind screaming down the road. I yell above the noise. What did you do? He yells I got their stash. All I can say is Shittttttt! and pedal my little ass off. There was no way I could convince them that I wasn’t involved.  Behind Adstoll Arena there is another field and another hiding spot for a small kid who is scared shitless. Luckily, they followed him instead of me. We both got away. That day I told my friend to get away as well.

No walk in the park

There was one last outdoor educational experience.  A school trip to Pinery Provincial Park. Winter camping would prove to be very educational. There are many lessons to learn.  How to pack a big orange backpack.  We had to keep the weight down because we had to walk with it on our backs, but essentials add up. I fill the pack with clothes, a sleeping bag, a two-person tent and toiletries.   In a side pocket I packed other essential like a swizz army knife, a fork, a spoon and a box of wooden matches. When I finished packing it weighed almost as much as I did.

More lessons to learn

How to use a compass and how to use a topographical map to navigate through the woods with your team. Back at the camp we learned how to gather wood to start a campfire. I also learn that I didn’t like borsch soup. I opted for a wiener on a stick instead.  Winter camping taught me a couple things. One, pack warmer clothes and two, bring a better sleeping bag. Class dismissed.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Road Trips: Kejimkujik National Park and Historic Site

We bought a van and we did so for one reason: camping. Our first test would be at Jeremy's Bay Campground. Kejimkujik National park had many sites to choose from usually but because people were spending their hard earned money in Canada (boycotting America) we only had a few spots available. The van had stow n go seats so it gave us enough room for a couple roll out mattresses. Setting up camp was pretty simple a dinning tent a couple of chairs and a fire.  Luckily for us we were there a week before the fire ban. Things were great until it was time to sleep. There was a crying kid a few sites away who was always in trouble for something. His crying continued into the wee hours of the morning. I finally locked the doors and fell asleep. Then it was tinkle time. As I opened the door the ani-theft alarm started to blare and I couldn't turn the darn thing off. After a few minutes of frustration and yes, cussing, I got it to stop not before waking up the entire camp.   I try t...

A pane in the glass

One pane of glass. One red, white and blue basketball. And one frustrating day in the window repair business.    My father was very good at repairing windows. He had plenty of practice. Our backyard was our arena, our stadium and the scene of many sporting errors.  Who done it? It all started on our one-lane road.  Every homeowner could hear the crack of the bat and then the smash of a ball. Where it came from, no one knew. We split, leaving the bat suspended just above the dust cloud. Not a kid in sight. Who done it was an unsolved mystery. All they could see was the weapon, the bat, the ball and the glass now littering the living room floor. Opps Things were different in our backyard. A wayward slapshot way upstairs. Crash. A change-up and a foul tip. Smash. Today's error: a basketball. A hook shot, nothing but air and glass. Bang. Shortly after the initial impact we heard something else, my father cuss "Friggin Kids" It was the only f word my dad was all...

A note

A note to friend in Christ. I believe the house of God has many windows and many doors. Sometimes we walk in, sometimes we walk out. Sometimes we just walk away. But the windows are always open just enough to let a little light in. Sometimes we need to tip-toe and look inside once again. I looked in and there you were. I was surfing the net, to be truthful doom scrolling. Luckily, for me I saw Father James Martin SJ,  on Stephen Colbert. A spark ignited in me to share the following story. My partner is a practicing Catholic and he goes to church every Saturday night. I am more of an east meets west kind of guy. Imagine Jesus and Buddha at a bar.  I'm the bartender and I don't know who to serve first.  I have only been out since my sixtieth birthday. It was during the time of the pandemic. I was divorced and laid off. I could have easily spiraled out of control. The good news; I lost a job I hated, and I had time to write, think, walk and pray. I eventually sta...