nothing to lose

humor and beauty in each day helped me through some significant grief in my personal life, but it seemed there was always a new obstacle. I often stayed up past midnight with my coleaders to discuss problematic crew dynamics, occasionally wondered if I should quit, and cried in my tent at night more than once. Nevertheless, support and encouragement were revealed to me in unexpected ways. I knew I was growing and learning, and with each change of seasons I was more certain that my decision to stick around was the right one.

The following year brought an even bigger surprise when I was offered a position as Field Supervisor with SECC. Just a year and a half prior, I had thought to myself: “that’s the dream job,” and figured it was unattainable or at best a very long-term goal. I was still processing the previous year. I also wasn’t getting along with my immediate supervisor, and was going through another tumultuous time outside of work. Eventually, things started to shift. That supervisor slowly turned into a much-appreciated mentor. Meanwhile, I was loving the rest of the job: ownership of the shop and tools, getting my hands dirty alongside crews, and laying out new trail. Experiences I had collected from leading my own crews became tools I used to coach new leaders. This lent me the opportunity to reflect and learn from my past mistakes as I tried to help others find direction. While in this position I worked with 29 crews. They all taught me incredible lessons, but I missed moving rocks and swinging a pick all day. So, I sold pretty much everything I owned, packed up my car, and eventually landed a job with the US Forest Service on the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest in Washington.

As expected: we cut trees, built steps, made bridges. But I felt like I wasn’t being challenged. So in the Spring of 2022, when I received a phone call about a position as the Forest Service foreman for a California Conservation Corps Backcountry Trails crew,