The Nature Lodge soon after it was built

This is my 42^nd year (1970-present) as Director of Nature Programs and Teaching at Pemi. My predecessor, Clarence Dike, was here for 41 years (1929-1970). Given my new longevity “record,” it seems like a good time to reflect on the history of natural history at Pemi.

Founding of the Nature Program

Pemi’s nature program began in 1925. The Seniors were split into five groups, and each group took “Nature” for one week, concentrating on collecting and identifying plants, shrub leaves, trees, and flowers. Clarence Dike came in 1929, and in 1930, the Nature Lodge was built. The building was named for Rev. and Mrs. Paul Moore Strayer of Rochester New York. He was a great amateur naturalist, and the Minister at Doc Win’s (one of the founding Fauver twins) church in Rochester.

Nature Lodge interior, 1930's

The interior of the Nature Lodge today is strikingly familiar to that of the 30′s. The two large tables with yellow birch legs are still in use today (although in very different positions). The workbenches are still in place and we still have most of the original benches to sit on, and the two original insect display cases are still in use. There have, of course, been many changes. The first is the addition of the “department” signs above the windows. These were in place when I arrived. We’ve also added a lot more lighting including two skylights. The original building had no electric lights and there were only two bulbs in place during my first years.

In 1995 we added the Phillip Reed Memorial Nature Library. This gave us about 65% more space and a weather-proof area to house our burgeoning book collection (now at about 1000 volumes). Local artisans, Roger Daniels and Richard Sharon, built the addition using native woods and the same, unusual, log construction as the original lodge. Phillip Reed was Tom Reed, Jr.’s cousin. He was a well-known environmental lawyer who passed away at a tragically early age (I actually first met him while wearing my other “hat” as an environmental science professor). He was passionate about the outdoors, and the library, built at the suggestion of and with the support of his family and friends, is a fitting and lasting tribute to him. Today, the library serves not only as a book repository, but also as a teaching station and a place where, during free time, campers and staff gather to talk about nature and dozens of other topics. I know that Phil is pleased.

Program

Clarence Dike and camper, making a butterfly net, 1940's

While today’s program is more extensive than it was in Clarence Dike’s day, it is very much built on the foundation that he laid. We are still making butterfly nets the same way…mosquito net bags sewn onto a bent coat hanger hoop and attached with electrical tape to a trimmed stick. We are still using those nets to collect butterflies, moths, and many other insects, which we pin out on the very same spreading boards that he made (which can be seen in the 1930’s photograph of the Nature Lodge).

Other program elements begun by “Mr. Dike” include the tree walk, the “What-is-it?” contest, study of ponds and streams, and the Junior Nature Book. These all continue today. Some things we do not do any more. For example, it was common, in the 1930’s, to routinely shoot and skin birds and animals for display. We continue to display those in place since the birds are long dead and we’ve got the display. But we always make it clear that this was an old way of doing things and we now realize that this is harmful to ecosystems and the natural balance of things.

In the early days of the program, campers took a general "Nature" occupation.

We also used just to offer general “Nature” as an occupation. In fact, this was still the way we did it during my first 8 years at Pemi. We usually had 20-30 boys all wanting to do different things. We never knew, until our first meeting, just who wanted to do what.

Note how, in the picture on the left, there are two  groups of boys doing two different things. In 1977, we experimented with a new format. We offered a “Butterflies and Moths” occupation for the first time. Since then, we have offered only this kind of specific activity. We are able to plan our lessons more carefully, separate beginners from more advanced campers (and indeed, offer more advanced lessons), and offer a much wider variety of topics.

Going beyond

Today, occupations offer focused topics, such as "Ants."

The advent of individual activity occupations has allowed us to build on the solid foundation that Clarence Dike laid and to go far beyond it. We now offer 14-18 different nature occupations each week. Some, such as Beginning Butterflies and Moths or Beginning Rocks and Minerals, are available every week. Others such as Orienteering or Non-Flowering Plants may be available only once or twice a summer. Many of these activities are taught at an  advanced level so that campers can grow in their knowledge and skills within a field that holds particular interest for them. In total, we offered close to 40 different occupations this summer. These include “interdisciplinary” activities with the arts such as Photography (both darkroom and digital), Environmental Sculpture (inspired by the work of Scottish artist Andy Goldsworthy), and Dyeing Woolie Critters along with Dyeing and Weaving (more on these below).

In the early 1990’s, Russ Brummer, as part of his Masters degree work at Antioch New England, developed a special occupation, Junior Environmental Explorations, that was designed to introduce Juniors to the Nature Program. It is a five-day curriculum that takes the campers through a series of activities in the woods, in the swamp, in the streams, and in the Nature Lodge, all of which are intended to acquaint them with the world around them, sharpen their observational skills, and let them know about the range of other nature occupations available to them. It is one of only two required activities at camp (the other is instructional swimming to Level 4) and all first-time juniors are automatically “enrolled” in their first week at Pemi.

Cyanotype, digital, and darkroom photography are featured in the annual Art Show

Our “interdisciplinary” art/nature occupations are particularly satisfying. They include Nature Photography, Nature Drawing, Environmental Sculpture, and both Dyeing & Weaving and Dyeing Woolie Critters. Photography has really expanded under the guidance of our own talent (Dan Reed on digital and Peter Siegenthaler in the darkroom) and visiting professional Andy Bale, who is on the faculty at Dickinson College. Many campers have their work displayed at the annual end-of-year Art Show.

Environmental Sculpture encourages careful observation.

Environmental sculptures are created out of natural materials and they are frequently ephemeral, lasting only a few days or even a few hours. Besides exercising campers’ artistic instincts, the activity also strongly encourages careful observation of the natural world. I have frequently seen boys pick up and discard a dozen different rocks before selecting just the right one for their sculpture.

Natural dyes create colorful wool.

A more recent innovation is the use of natural dyes to dye wool. This is a lot of fun, as combinations of plants and different mordents (the metal or substance used to “fix” the dyes) can lead to unexpected results. We have dyed yarn and woven it and, for the last three years, dyed raw (but cleaned) wool and used it to needle felt “woolie critters.” Thus the occupation name, “Dyeing Woolie Critters.” We get our wool from a farm right here in Wentworth, and we have even been able to go there and see sheep shearing.

Collecting milkweed pods to cook back at the Nature Lodge

Finally, we come to the single most requested nature occupation, Wild Foods. This is taught each week, but is only open to 8 boys at a time. We were getting 50-60 requests for it each week. So, two years ago, we began limiting it to uppers and seniors only. The boys love it because they get to taste some interesting food. For me, however, the most important lesson comes with the context. We are always thinking about what it would have been like to make a living from this hard New England soil 600 years ago, before the first Europeans made permanent settlements here. We talk about gathering food, preserving it for winter, knowing what as edible and poisonous, and how that information was passed on. Three years ago, we started a “farm” where we grow the “three sisters” (corn, beans, squash) using varieties as close as we can get to those used by the Indians. We get the seeds from Plimouth Plantation where they grow and maintain stocks of these old, old strains.  In the end, we hope that the boys gain an appreciation for the hunting and gathering lifestyle and for the work that was involved in just feeding yourself and your fellows each day, let alone storing enough for those long New England Winters.

Trips

Collecting minerals at Palermo Mine with Deb Kure

We started taking our first nature trips in 1971. They were to mineral collecting areas, and one of the first was to the Palermo Mine in North Groton, NH. Forty years later we are still going there, guests of the owner, Robert Whitmore of Weare, NH. In fact, he has given us keys to this world-famous locality and donated some spectacular specimens, found at the mine, for us to display. We usually run one of these trips each week, and they give the campers a chance to collect some really interesting minerals.

Older boys have the chance to go caving

One of the truly different things that we do through the Nature Program each summer is to run two caving trips to the Karst (cave) region of New York State, about 30 miles southwest of Albany. These are both adventure and geology trips and, as a geologist who studies hydrology in these areas (while wearing my University “hat”), I lead them. Pemi caving trips and photographs are featured in detail in Caving Trips with Camp Pemi, an article that you might enjoy reading.

We also take trips to sites of geological or ecological interest. This summer, for example, Associate Head of Nature Programs, Deb Kure, led geology field trips to Crawford and Franconia Notches. In past years, we have gone to the virgin spruce-fir forest in the Connecticut Lakes Region of extreme northern New Hampshire, to remote bogs in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, to Plum Island in Newburyport, Massachusetts, and for fossil collecting on the Lake Champlain Islands in northwestern Vermont.

The Nature Instruction Clinic

In 1992, Rob Grabill, Russ Brummer, and I gave a workshop on teaching nature at camp at the International Camping Association meeting in Toronto, Ontario. This led to the establishment, in 1993, of the pre-season nature instruction clinic. This 5½-day class is designed to train instructors from other camps (and some of our own too) to teach natural history in a camp setting. It is a way in which we can share our experience and spread the good work to far more children than we personally could ever reach. The clinic is broken into two main segments. In the first, we introduce the participants to the natural history of the area. In the second, we work on teaching skills, including lesson planning and exhibit making. Everything is hands-on and tailored to the specific needs and interests of each year’s group.

In 2009, the Nature Instruction Clinic was accepted as a three-credit (graduate or undergraduate) course at the University of New Haven, the institution at which I teach. It is the capstone course in our new Environmental Education Concentration within the Master of Science in Environmental Science Program. This year we had five University of New Haven students participating along with two staff members from Pemi and five from other camps.

Closing Thoughts

It has been a long journey for Pemi Nature since 1925. Over the past 87 years, we have introduced thousands of boys to the natural world around them. Some have gone on to careers in geology or ecology or natural history teaching. Deb Kure, our current Associate Head of Nature Programs, came to the first Nature Instruction Clinic as a newly minted geology graduate. She went on to a distinguished career as an outdoor educator, having worked for the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History, among other places. She now does after-school nature instruction for Camp Fire International in Austin, Texas. Most, however, have simply taken what they learned here at Pemi and used it to enrich their lives and the lives of their families. All of this was made possible by the vision of the Four Docs who provided the impetus, the place, and the people that were needed to make Nature a key part of the Pemi experience. Over the years, every Pemi director has supported the vision and the expansion of the program to what it is today. I feel immensely privileged to be a part of the legacy and see Pemi’s Nature Program continuing to grow and evolve far into the future.

“Our caving trip began on Friday and, after a short drive and a quick stop at Larry’s sister’s house, we arrived at the first cave. In the first cave we saw a 75-foot ‘showerdome’ and we enjoyed that a great deal! We stayed with Larry’s sister that night and she gave us a great breakfast the next morning. The second day began with a short walk that took us to a ladder, which brought us to a deeper spot to explore the Gun-barrel, the Dungeon and many other cool places. Larry told us great stories in the caves and as he told the stories, we went into a place where we were neck deep in water, which was really cold! Overall, the trip was great and we can’t wait for the next trip, the ‘advanced caving’ trip.”

-Patrick Mimms (Senior 3)

Pemi boys have been caving since 1982.  It is a challenging and exciting activity, akin to mountain climbing, only underground. If you like wet, muddy, dark places, you’ll love caving. It has an undeserved reputation of being dangerous. Of course, as with other outdoor pursuits such as mountain climbing, canoeing, or kayaking, the failure to use proper equipment or to observe appropriate safety procedures can get you into trouble. Cavers call ill-equipped, unsafe cave explorers “spelunkers,” and in the caving community a common phrase is “Cavers rescue spelunkers.” When I’m wearing my other hat, that of a college professor/geologist, my research specialty is cave science. My sister, Emily (with whom we stay and who helps lead some of our trips) is an internationally-known caver. Given this experience, you can be sure that our cave trip participants are properly equipped with helmets, knee pads, gloves, warm clothing, and three sources of light (a helmet-mounted LED lamp as primary, a flashlight as secondary backup, and a candle with matches for emergencies) and that we always cave safely.

Each summer we take two caving trips, a beginning trip that visits easier caves (the equivalent of some of our lower mountain peaks) and an advanced trip that includes more challenging caves. I will describe both in some detail here, and I will include some pictures both of the caves and of our recent trips.

On each trip, we take up to nine campers, along with three staff members. The minimum age for campers is 13, although we almost always fill the trip with 14- and 15-year-olds. Boys must also have demonstrated an ability to follow directions and exhibited a high level of maturity before we accept them as participants.

Our caving program has two major goals. The first is to teach the boys about caves and cavernous regions (which go under the name of “karst.”) While in the caves we talk about cave formation and development, biologic environments, and conservation. On the surface we talk about such features as sinkholes and springs and also consider the environmental problems associated with karst. The second goal is to challenge the boys both physically and mentally and to give them an opportunity to explore a part of the world that few get to see. We do all of our caving in New York State in an area around the town of Schoharie, which is about 30 miles southwest of Albany. While it is about 200 miles away from Pemi, it is the closest karst region to camp. There are over 200 mapped caves here, with more being discovered all the time. There are also two commercial caves, Howe Caverns and Secret Caverns. While we don’t visit these, you may want to – just to see what caves are all about.

Beginning Caving: On the beginning trip we visit three caves. They are very different from each other in terms of size, morphology (shape), formation, geology, and exploration challenge. Cave passages have one of four basic shapes, canyon-like, vertical shaft, rectangular, or elliptical, with combinations such as keyhole (elliptical on top and canyon-like on the bottom) possible. The first cave on the trip, Schoharie Caverns, is canyon-like. This type of passage is formed by flowing water, a cave stream. From the very beginning we follow one, upstream, along its course through the cave, much of the time just splashing in the water, but in a few places submerging ourselves in waist-deep pools. In most places the cave is only two or three feet wide, but ceiling heights range from 10 to 40 feet. The passage itself is generally straight, following natural fractures in the rock (called “joints”). Where joint sets intersect, however, the passage makes right angle bends. At one point a seventy-five foot high vertical shaft “pierces” the canyon (this is the “showerdome” mentioned in Patrick’s comments at the start of this newsletter). These shafts (known as “dome-pits”) form independently of the main cave by a process of top-down solution that begins at the surface, which at this point is more than 300 feet above us. For, while the cave passage has been pretty much horizontal, the land above us has risen sharply as we proceeded into the Earth.

This is the only cave on the beginning trip that has extensive formations (dripstone). Stalactites hang from the ceiling (they hold “tight”). Flowstone covers the walls, looking like frozen waterfalls. Slight differences in the temperature of the cave and its water, along with the amount of carbon dioxide in the cave atmosphere, determine whether solution of the rock or deposition of dripstone takes place. The system is exquisitely sensitive to tiny variations in either of these variables.

Our trip ends in a large room where the cave stream emerges from a low opening in the wall. Beyond this, the passage is entirely water-filled, accessible only to cave divers (a very dangerous sport indeed.) We turn out our lights to experience the complete and absolute darkness that, beyond the womb, can only be found in a cave. To exit, we retrace our route, but I let one of the campers lead. Even though we traverse exactly the same passage, it looks completely different from the other direction. This is a good lesson in caving technique. On the way in, you should periodically turn around and look behind you so that you will have some idea what things will look like when you reverse direction.

The second cave we visit is Knox Cave (a map is included in the PDF version). It features large rectangular-shaped rooms with arched ceilings. This type of passage most often occurs when the cave is not far below the surface. The primary mode of formation is solution along joints and then enlargement of the passage through breakdown (large blocks falling from the walls and ceiling.) We see these large blocks everywhere. There is no danger now, however, as cave forming processes are extremely slow and there is even strong evidence that the blocks fell thousands or tens of thousands of years ago. Knox Cave has many parallel and side passages, and this gives us a chance to allow the boys to do some exploring on their own. We use the buddy system and I, along with my staff assistants, James Finley and Richard Komson, station ourselves at strategic locations to keep an eye on things.

The Gun Barrel. Photo by Cory Fauver.

After exploring the front part of the cave, we descend through a low, wide crawlway into, first, an elliptical passage, formed when the cave was completely full of water, and then a keyhole-shaped passage, the slot in the keyhole formed by a cave stream that flowed after the passage started to drain. Finally we enter a long, wide room that terminates (almost) at the internationally-famous “gun-barrel.” This aptly named, fifty-foot-long, nearly circular tube is only one and a half feet in diameter. It leads to the back part of the cave, which is half-again as long as the front part that we have just visited. On this trip, we do not go through the gun-barrel (I never do; I’m just too big and my claustrophobia wouldn’t let me do it anyway.) Some will go through on the advanced trip, however. This is a good place for the campers to see what they might encounter on the later trip. It is also a terrific chance for us to talk about pushing yourself to find your limits but not being afraid to admit that you have them (I’m a perfect example of this.) There is no shame in turning back here (and besides, there is a by-pass that was dug out about 10 years ago.)

The final cave we visit on the beginning trip is Clarksville Cave (also known as Ward-Gregory.) The main entrance is a small opening on the floor of a sinkhole. From the large entrance room at the bottom, you can go right, into the Ward section of the cave, or left, through a small connector, into the Gregory Section. We start our trip in the Ward section. The passage is elliptical, indicating that it formed when the cave was filled entirely with water. The ceiling height varies between three and ten feet. An upper dry (but low and muddy) passage parallels the lower, and larger, wet section. In many places, the wall rock shows a pattern of solutional scallop marks. These are made by running water over a period of thousands of years. Smaller scallops mean faster moving water. It is actually possible to estimate the ancient water velocity by using their size.  Near the end of the Ward section, we have a choice of going low through my favorite part of the cave, called the “Grottoes,” or going high through a muddy passage that avoids them. The Grottoes are a catacomb of rock filled with water.

The Grottoes. Photo courtesy of Northeast Cave Conservancy.

The ceiling, however, gets lower and the water gets higher until, just before you exit this section, you are waist deep and bent over. Everyone in the group chooses to go this way. The reflection of our lights on the water and onto the walls produces a continually-moving pattern of light and dark. As we move, the water surface surges up and down. The waves hit the walls and the ceiling, and the sound echoes through the cavern.

We retrace our steps and enter the Gregory Section. This part of the cave has formed along an old fault. We can see evidence of past movement on the slanting surfaces that are the fault plane. After passing through a series of belly crawls and low rooms, we arrive at the “Bathtub.” Here we have to wade through a waist-deep pool.

Beyond the Bathtub, the character of the cave changes. This section features rimstone dams. When water pools in rock depressions, minerals can precipitate around the edge. Over time, the precipitates grow higher and higher which, in turn, means that the pool becomes deeper and deeper. We cross dozens of these pools and dams. Finally we come to a passage that is a five-foot-wide square chute angling down the fault plane at about 15 degrees. We slide down this into a deep pool of freezing cold water. We work our way along the edge of this pool to a place where the ceiling comes down to about 8 inches above the water level. We are submerged up to our necks – but, fortunately, this water is never prone to a rapid rise in level! After a quick duck under this spot, we emerge onto a slope where we can look back on the pool, known as Brinley’s Sump.

The Bathtub. Photo courtesy of Northeast Cave Conservancy.

A short stoop-way takes us to huge, rectangular “trunk” passage, unlike anything we have seen so far. Drenched and muddy, we follow this out to the surface and exit the cave in a different place from where we entered.

Near the cave entrance, there is a place to change our clothes. Dry clothes feel so much better. After about a two-hour drive across the Green Mountains, we arrive at our dinner stop, the Chelsea Royal Diner in West Brattleboro, Vermont (highly recommended). The staff there knows us well and takes very good care of us. Filled up with delicious food, we head for home.

Advanced Caving: On the advanced caving trip, we revisit Knox Cave and go to one new cave: Gage’s. Here is camper Matt Sherman’s description:

“This past year, I went on if not the best, then one of the best camp trips ever: caving. It is a whole different world when you enter the caves of upstate New York. We all made our way through a very tight squeeze called the gun-barrel. It was 50 feet long and I think we were all glad that we did it afterwards. In the other cave [Gage’s], exploration was the name of the game. We came across different passageways that led to rooms, which led to more passageways. In one of the rooms, you could literally sled down mud [on your butt]. In another, you could make clay/mud sculptures. It was great. To top it all off, the food and accommodations were fantastic. It was an awesome trip.”

-Matt Sherman (Senior 1)

Rodrigo Juarez entering the Alabaster Room through the "Crystal Crawl" and the "Lemon Squeeze" in Knox Cave. Photo by Cory Fauver.

Time and space preclude a detailed description of these caves. However, some of the highlights include going through the gun-barrel passage in Knox (or opting for the by-pass.) Once on the other side, we turn the campers loose and they can look for the Mud Room (which once contained life-size “sculptures” of Mr. and Ms. Knox created by members of the Harvard Medical School Outing Club) or head for the “Lemon Squeeze” and the Alabaster Room. This year we allotted extra time for this cave and almost all of the campers made it to this highly decorated spot.

Gage’s (formerly known as “Ball’s Cave”) has a 48-foot entrance ladder that requires a belay. This gives us a chance to demonstrate some rope work and to discuss the differences between rock climbing and vertical caving (they are legion). The cave itself is a series of spacious rooms connected by narrow passages and loops. There are many faults, and I am most pleased when the boys recognize them, (“Larry, is that a fault there?”) Once again, we let the buddy pairs explore on their own. Eventually, all arrive at an extremely challenging “crawl,” whose name is unfortunately too indelicate for this journal. Those who complete it emerge soaked and muddy but with big smiles on their faces.

Surface Features: Finally, on the advanced caving trip, we take time to look at the geology of the area, including collecting some fossils, and at the surface features associated with Karst. We visit the property, owned by the National Speleological Society, surrounding McFail’s Cave, at six and one-half miles long, the longest in the Northeast. There are sinkholes, blind valleys, disappearing streams, swallow holes, and springs. Ask your campers to explain these to you. We also visit John Boyd Thacher State Park, about 10 miles southwest of Albany (highly recommended if you’re in the area.) Here we stand on top of the Helderberg Escarpment looking down a shear cliff face. The view is incredible. The Hudson Valley is 1000 feet straight down below us. The Taconic and Green Mountains are to the east (with Mt. Mansfield clearly visible.) And, to the north, we can just see the Adirondaks peeking out from behind the cliff face. The Native Americans who lived here carved a narrow trail in the cliff face. They farmed the valley below, but almost every night climbed the cliff to their village in the higher, more defensible position above. The trail is open to us now, and many of the processes that form caves are active there today and can be seen as we walk along. This short (45-minute) hike allows us to sum up the entire trip and to reinforce the lessons that we have learned.

Patrick Mimms, staff member Richard Komson, and Matt Cloutier in the Arch in Thacher State Park

As many of you know, our annual competition against Camp Tecumseh is renewed this Friday, and much of our energy this week has been going into preparations for that august day. Given the breadth of Pemi’s program, though, we haven’t abandoned music, art, nature, or trips. As we write, Jack Davini, Matt Fazekas, and Caleb Tempro are practicing piano in the Lodge, Dottie Reed is immersed in yet another Dyeing Wooly Critters occupation, and Deb Kure is enthralling yet another gaggle of our youngest campers in Junior Environmental Exploration. The Lake Tent and Lower Six have just trundled out of camp for a day trip up Mt. Cube (2800 feet), and three overnights involving Juniors and Lowers will be summiting Mts. Cube , Cardigan (3200 feet), and Carrigain (4700 feet) as well. (Now there’s an alliterative array!) What better time, in fact, to scribe a newsletter about our Trip Program?

Pemi has always tried to offer campers activities they can’t necessarily pursue at home, and our prime location amidst New Hampshire’s White Mountains lets us offer a range of wilderness experiences that might be hard to come by during a boy’s school year. Our hiking options range from day jaunts on local peaks (like Cube!) to extended backpacking trips in the Franconia or Presidential Ranges, and even as far away as Mt. Katahdin, in Northern Maine. Among the highlights for older boys are overnight stays at the high mountain huts run by the Appalachian Mountain Club, located at or above tree-line in spectacular alpine settings. Many a Pemi boy has consolidated his love for the high peaks at these rustic hostelries, watching the sunset with his mates following a hearty and delicious meal, then ducking back to the hut for a game of cards and a cup of hot chocolate before lights out. Outings closer to home include overnights at the Adirondack shelter on Pemi Hill directly behind camp (there’s one tonight for Upper Two!), or a paddle by canoe or kayak across the lake for supper at one of our sylvan cook-out spots (two tonight, for Junior One and Lower One!) We also run a number of paddling trips on local rivers, but the capstone of the Pemi canoeing program is the annual trip to the Allagash Waterway in Maine, where eight or ten of our seniors spend four days on remote and unspoiled lakes and rivers where they’re more likely to see moose grazing on the flora along the shore than encounter fellow travelers of a human sort.

We think that the trip program represents a crucial aspect of the broad Pemi program. Boys learn to reap the rewards of sustained effort in what can sometimes be demanding conditions. They learn the benefits of advanced planning as they organize gear and supplies for what can be days away from civilization. They learn a different kind of teamwork than they witness on the athletic field, including collective decision making skills and a sense of responsibility for the welfare and happiness of the entire group. And they also learn to appreciate both the power and the fragility of their natural environment, becoming wiser and more ecologically responsible in the process. Year after year, Pemi alumni tell us that the time they spent in the White Mountains was one of the most life-enhancing components of their camp experience.

This has all been pretty abstract. Let’s dip into specifics with accounts of recent Pemi outings penned by the participants themselves. First comes the record of Upper Four’s overnight at Greenleaf Hut in Week Three, as recalled by Abby Reed, Co-head of the Junior Camp who leapt at the chance to go on what is one of the very best of our mountain offerings. The second comes from Lake Tent denizens Mason Challinor, Teddy Gales, and Nick Barber, recently back from that banner Allagash expedition mentioned above. Abby’s account is fairly straightforward. The other is, well, rather Bean Soup, filtered through the inventive brains of some of our oldest and most spirited campers. Enjoy!

First from Abby: On July 14, 2010, the first-session members of Upper Four (plus a few lucky staff tag-ons) embarked upon the Old Bridle Path, a trail snaking up into the Franconia Range of the White Mountains. Our destination was the Greenleaf Appalachian Mountain Club Hut, a high-altitude hostel perched on the shoulder of Mt. Lafayette (5,260 ft.). Encouraged by the prospect of good company and a hearty, home-cooked meal at the hut, we began hiking in the early afternoon, led by U-4 counselor Sam Seymour. Following him were campers Brendon Armitage, Sam Davitt, Max Livingstone-Peters, Danny Murphy, Ben Nicholas, Carl Pohlman, Zach Popkin, and Nate Williams, as well as BUNACer Nick Ridley (counselor of many of the boys during the 2009 summer) and me. As we gained altitude, the warm deciduous forest gave way to the smaller flora of the slightly chillier subalpine zone. Our collective breath was taken away by the first real view, on a rocky outcrop affording a spectacular panorama of the ridgeline we were to traverse the following day. Although the very top of the ridge was shrouded in clouds, the view gave us a real sense of the altitude we had gained and the ground we would cover come tomorrow.

After one more hour of steady hiking, we emerged from the alpine treeline into a rocky clearing commanded by the sturdy Greenleaf Hut. While certainly not luxurious—no hot showers or turn-down service here—Greenleaf is spacious, clean, and comfortable, boasting a large kitchen/dining area with four long tables and spectacular views of mile-high Mt. Lafayette. Flanking this communal space are three rustic but comfortable bunkrooms (each bunk with a pillow and three wool blankets) and two basic bathrooms, complete with composting toilets and cold running water. Not bad for an inn so high that it’s literally in the clouds!

After claiming their bunks, the Pemi boys offered their assistance to the hut Croo and set the tables for dinner. Afterwards, we headed back outside to listen to the hut naturalist explain the ins-and-outs of maintaining a high-altitude hostelry. Among the hut’s distinctive features are its solar panels, wind turbine, and composting toilets, all of which decrease the hut’s reliance on propane. As the naturalist explained measures taken to deter an over-inquisitive black bear from the hut’s compost heap, we all appreciated the challenges posed by running an altitudinous B&B far from the conventional comforts of civilization.

By 6 o’clock, our stomachs were starting to grumble and we gratefully sat down to a hearty dinner prepared by the Croo chef. Along with the other hut patrons, we feasted on curried lentil soup, salad with homemade dressing, bread fresh from the oven, honey-baked ham, rice, and veggies. A quick rain shower passed through as we ate, but the sun came out just in time for dessert (fudge bars), bringing a vibrant rainbow with it. After dinner, several of our group walked to a nearby rocky lookout to watch the sun set over the valley, and many took advantage of the hut’s small retail shop to purchase synthetic Greenleaf t-shirts as souvenirs (and as extra layers for the next day’s breezy summits). After playing a few card games and writing a group entry in the hut log book, we headed to bed, pleasantly full and sleepy.

We woke at 6:30 the following morning to a song performed by a Croo member, and sat down at 7 to a hearty breakfast. Afterwards, two of the Croo performed a silly but informative skit instructing us in the proper way to fold our wool blankets in preparation for the next patron. The weather was sunny and clear, and after packing up our gear, we began the day’s hike. The first mile was a rocky scramble up the shoulder of Lafayette, and we were rewarded for our efforts with a spectacular 360-degree view of the White Mountains from the summit, including the verdant Pemigewassett Wilderness to the east. After snapping a few photos, we continued on our way along the Franconia Ridge, which, as it coincides with the Appalachian Trail, afforded us a chance to chat in passing with thru-hikers and casual “goofers” alike. As the morning progressed, the trail led us into and above fleecy white clouds, and we summitted Mt. Lincoln and Little Haystack in quick succession.

Then, after hiking a solid five miles, we found ourselves at the top of Mt. Liberty. With yet another 360-degree view unfolding around us, we sat down together and enjoyed a traditional trail lunch of pepperoni, cheese, crackers, carrots, raisins, and cookies. With an entertaining story from Nick Ridley to send us on our way, we embarked on the last segment of the trip, a challenging 2.5 mile downhill stretch that brought us back down into the valley. We returned to camp proud of our efforts, with memories of great views, great weather, and great company to sustain us throughout the winter months.

Now for Mason, Teddy, and Nick’s account of the Allagsh trip, led by Pemi veteran staff members Andy Kirk and Noble Macfarlane:

Maine… the final frontier…  This is the voyage of the canoe trip: Pemi.  Our 5-day mission, to explore new waterways, to seek out new wildlife, to boldly go where few campers have gone before.

Star date 7/19/10: Captain Andrew Tiberius Kirk leads an inexperienced crew of 10 into the Maine Wilderness.  After discovering that a U-Haul trailer nullifies the ability to achieve warp speed, the crew began a grueling journey into the unknown.  Ten hours, several bacon, egg, and cheese bagels, and a posse of five-dollar foot longs later, the crew had arrived in what can only be described as Moose Country.  Chief Navigator Andy Kradjel’s intense desire to see “meese” drove him into an uncharacteristic fit of anxiety, which ironically prevented him from seeing the first four moose the crew actually  encountered.  After a meal of herbivoric food made by resident Vulcan Noble MacFarlane, the crew fell asleep.

Star date 7/20/10: The crew awoke the next morning and promptly put into the river.  Chief Navigator Kradjel, overcome with excitement, was no match for the foot-tall rocks of the Chase Rapids.  After turning the canoe back over, Andy and his damp companion were able to catch up with the rest of the crew and join them at Long Lake.  One hour into the trek across the lake the crew spotted their first moose of the day.  Resident dare devils Ritter and Levi managed to get within ten feet of the beast before returning to the rest of the group.  That evening the crew replenished their bodies with the delicacy known as mac and cheese and quickly returned to their resting pads for some much needed sleep.

Star date 7/21/10

The crew awoke to the scent of boiled oats and dehydrated fruits.  After a quick packing check the crew was off for their longest trek of the journey – 24 miles.  The day began with a rhythm of both excitement and good cheer as four more moose were spotted along the riverbanks.   But the good cheer would come to an end when a torrential rainstorm dumped gallons of water on what would have been dry clothes.  But all was not lost for the rain soon stopped and after a meal of oversized burritos, the crew returned to their quarters for some R and R.

Star date 7/22/10

The fourth day of the trip started as an extremely uneventful day for the crew only encountering one moose and going over very few rapids.  The men were getting restless and needed some fun, luckily a water fall and countless hours of swimming revitalized the crew enough to get to the final campsite where they are like kings and played hours of Frisbee.

Star date 7/23/10

The men of Pemi finally reached the end of the river at 8:30am that day and began the long journey home.

All in all it was an unforgettable trip.  Final count 11 moose, 9 bald eagles and 2 rabbits.  Thank you Andy and Noble for this amazing experience.

Finally, let me confess that I leapt at the chance to drive one of yesterday’s trips to the trailhead – at the base of Mt. Carrigain in the middle of the Pemigewassett Wilderness. Amidst the preparations for Tecumseh, it didn’t “fill,” but we decided to send it anyway. As a result, the staff/camper ration was remarkable – basically 1 to 1, as Trip Leader Hester Tittman, AC Matt Casey, and former staff member Dan Reed teamed up to supervise Tommy Witkop, Nick Bertrand, and Sparky Brown. The ride to the trail lasted over an hour and a half, as we wound our way over the shoulder of Mt. Moosilauke, the gorgeous Kancamagus Highway, and the Bear Notch Road before heading North into Crawford Notch and west up the Sawyer River. No sooner had seatbelts been buckled than Sparky proposed a word-guessing game that kept us all rapt until we rumbled across a backcountry bridge into the parking lot. You may know it. I didn’t. Someone comes up with a word (say, “elephant” — no proper nouns) and reveals its first letter (“e”) and the others attempt to guess what it is. “Is it a purple vegetable?” If the “word-holder” can say “No, it’s not an eggplant,” he’s safe. If he can’t think of a purple vegetable, ANY purple vegetable, beginning with an “e” – and others can – one of the guessers says “Contact,” and then counts to three. On three, if anyone else in the group of guessers also says (in this case) “eggplant,” the word-holder has to reveal another letter of the word. And so it goes, until the word is guessed – and the guesser comes up with the next challenge.

Maybe you had to be there, but the energy and laughter and merriment that filled the van for 90 minutes were amazing, and time honestly flew. It’s hard to recall a time that more fully epitomized the cliché “Fun for young and old.” I have to say that, once everyone had hopped out of their seats and shouldered their packs and started up the road towards the trailhead, it was all I could do not to lock the van and tramp right off into the cool woods along with them, ill-prepared as I would have been. On the best of trips, the rapport we had enjoyed begins to develop a day or so in, as logged miles and rest stops and meals shared around a campfire begin to work their magic. This time, it was all there from the start. Given the majesty of the mountain they’re climbing today – set in the very center of a mammoth circle of 4000-foot peaks – it’s hard to imagine the heights of camaraderie they will achieve. We should all be so fortunate. More mystical moments – the lasting stuff of life-long memories.

– Tom Reed, Jr.

27 July 2010

I’ve written here before about Pemi’s wonderful trip program, in which hiking trips leave nearly daily from Pemi to explore the White Mountains. Campers return from these trips usually tired and exhilarated at the same time—but that sense of exhilaration can come both from having completed a great foray into the woods, and from the special treat that comes at the end: the dope stop, when boys have the chance to run into a store and buy candy and a soda. When you’ve gone all summer at Pemi with none of that sugary stuff, it’s a big deal indeed.

I called up Al Fauver recently to ask him about his earliest memories of dope stops. “I was a kid at camp in the twenties and it was well established by that time,” he said.

But while it’s a tradition that dates back to the beginnings of camp, the first version of the dope stop involved home-cooked food, as part of a trip to Mt. Cube.

“We used to walk all the way from camp, on up to the foot of the trail,” Al said. “On the way up that long hill was the Pease Farm, and we would stop there and order blueberry pie to eat on the way down. They’d have milk, and half a pie per person.”

“She would bake them as we were climbing the mountain and they would be all ready for us, all warm, and the milk, and the sweet blueberry pie, it was great,” he said. The blueberries were, of course, local. “They picked them right in the back fields.”

Today, the dope stop is slightly less bucolic. Here’s how it works: The van or bus stops at a gas station or shop somewhere between the mountains and camp. The campers, in their sweat-stained t-shirts and shorts, hiking boots most likely still on, emerge from the vehicle, bedazzled by the prospect of getting to go into a store and buy something. One counselor supervises the van, while the other runs the operation inside the store. In pairs or in threes the campers wander the aisles. Quick! What to get? So many choices! Milky Way or Skittles? Coke or Gatorade? These are life’s tough decisions.

And decide they must, as time is limited. (As is the money they can spend, which is limited to roughly $2 per camper.) Famously, a legendary trip counselor named Reilly McCue gave campers something like 30 seconds each to make their decisions; that has since been relaxed somewhat. How would you spend your $2? For each camper, that’s a decision they ruminate on throughout the hike, and then, in a bewildering moment among store racks and coolers, must choose. It’s a long way from the simplicity and elegance of blueberry pie at the Pease Farm.

Most campers, of course, opt for the classic combination of a candy bar and a soda. But there have been notable exceptions, when campers chose to be unorthodox. Jackson Reed once used a quarter to buy air—yes, air—from the compressor outside the store intended for topping off tires. It was a hot summer day, and he used the pressurized air to cool himself down. Bill Pruden once used his money to buy an apple—and a copy of The New York Times. And last summer a Junior camper, Kevin Lewis, bought a cucumber!

The campers have to finish their goodies before arrival back at camp, and soda size is limited. The campers usually hurry to finish their loot, as it can’t be taken back to the cabins. The trash is thrown away; the cans and bottles are recycled. Gone are the days when each camper got his own half of a freshly-baked blueberry pie, but with that tradition pretty far gone from camp’s institutional memory, today’s campers seem perfectly happy with the modern dope stop ritual.

–Rob Verger

Upper 2 on the summit of South Twin. July, 2008.

A Pemi day has a great, busy rhythm to it. But one of the most rewarding parts of the camp season comes when that routine is replaced by a trip into the mountains, whether it be a quick scramble up to the bald, brisk summit of Pemi’s neighbor, Mt. Cube, or a four-day trip through the Franconia Range.

Pemi has a long tradition of taking trips into the woods—the Appalachian Trail even cuts through a corner of camp property—and it’s always been one of my favorite parts of the camp experience. I can still clearly picture sitting on the warm rocks of a White Mountain summit on a Pemi trip, taking a sip from a water bottle and refueling with cheese and crackers. As both a camper and later, a trip counselor, I hiked up countless White Mountain trails.

Mountains in the Whites offer striking environmental contrasts. At the lower altitudes, just a few minutes away from the trailhead, the forests are quiet and stream-filled, and clusters of Goose Foot Maples line the trail. From there the trail usually steepens, and the group might become quieter as the climbing begins up a packed-dirt and rocky trail. As you gain altitude, the trees generally transition from deciduous to coniferous, and just below the tree line, the trees are usually compact, sturdy little evergreens. Then there are the summits and ridgelines of the Whites: these are breezy places where on a sunny day in the summer everything is warm and wide open and expansive: if the visibility it good, you can see for miles, with rolling mountain ranges receding into the distance. And when it’s windy or stormy on these ridges, you feel grateful you packed a bomb-proof jacket.

Things change on trips. Far from the comforts of camp, Pemi boys are challenged on the trails, and are spurred out of their daily routines into a new world. Boys on trips find themselves tested, in a good way. You carry your own water, and learn to take care of the needs of your body. If it’s raining, you use your rain jacket, and cover your pack with a pack fly, or line it with trash bags, or both. You learn the importance of keeping your sleeping back dry. At night, the trip counselor and the assistant counselor cook food over a WhisperLite stove, which produces a comforting little roar and an efficient blue flame. Dinner might be macaroni and cheese with tuna, which I think is delicious (but hunger is the best sauce). At night, you sleep in a tent, just a sleeping bag and pad and tent floor between you and the earth. Breakfast might be instant oatmeal, eaten quickly before hitting the trail.

With all these changes in routine and environment, hiking trips can be some of the most memorable experiences a boy will have during a season at camp: while days at Pemi blur together happily, trips have a way of drawing out the day and becoming bigger, more luminous experiences. Conversations on the trail and jokes over supper become all the more memorable, because there are no other distractions. Even your thoughts might seem stronger, more focused, in the woods and on the trail.

I have plenty of vivid images in my head from Pemi trips: dipping a Nalgene bottle into a cold stream and then dropping an iodine tablet in it to purify the water; eating dinner out of a plastic cup and then later eating oatmeal out of the same cup the next morning. Or, as a counselor, waiting until all the campers are in their tents at bedtime, and then making the rounds once more, double-checking that the tents are pitched properly and will stay dry in a storm, tightening the stays and stakes, saying goodnight to each group of kids.

Then there’s perhaps the sweetest part of the trip: emerging out of the woods and then hopping in the van or bus to go back to Pemi, and stopping on the way back for rare treat: candy and a soda. Rolling back over that bridge, coming back into Pemi, even just from a day trip, might be the best feeling of all: it’s a feeling of coming home after an adventure.

My experiences on trips with Pemi were incredibly formative in producing who I am today. What memories do you have? If you went on trips as a camper at Pemi, or led them as a counselor, what was the experience like?

-Rob Verger

The Pemi West group in 2006 in Olympic National Park. From left to right, back row: Christina Demetro, Daniel Pfeffer, Duncan Fisher, Jamie Andrews, Tim Billo, Emily Blackmer, and Hayley Daniell. Front row: Matt DeCaro, Corey Fauver, Anne Carman.

In 1997, when I was 18, I traveled out to Crested Butte, Colorado, to take part in Pemi West’s inaugural season. We had a base camp at 10,000 feet in the Maroon Bells, and spent almost a month living in the mountains. I still have vivid images in my mind from that summer—the tall conifers that surrounded the base camp, the fields of wildflowers we hiked through, the drama of the vast, snowy mountains that were our home. And the Pemi spirit, so distinctive in New Hampshire, was with us out in the Rockies.

The next summer, after my first year of college, I returned to Pemi in New Hampshire and worked as a trip counselor for the summer in the White Mountains. (We’ll have more about the trip program at Pemi in New Hampshire in a forthcoming item here.) Then, in the summer of 1999, I traveled back out to Colorado to work as a staff trip leader for Pemi West, co-leading a group with Scott Morgan.

Pemi West in 2006.

My two summers out in Colorado built upon a love of hiking and the outdoors that I’d been nurturing for a long time, and vastly improved my technical skills and sense of confidence and independence in the wilderness, to boot. In college, I was a Mountain Club guide, and later, the president of the Mountain Club, and the fact that I arrived at Middlebury and felt ready to tackle anything in the outdoors has a lot to do with my training both at Pemi West and with Pemi in New Hampshire.

Since 2005, Pemi West has been located in Olympic National Park in Washington State. When I asked Pemi West Director Tim Billo to tell me some about the current program, he wrote:

“This setting offers all the challenge and beauty of Colorado, but also offers a superior wilderness experience. With one million contiguous acres of federally designated wilderness, Olympic National Park is one of the largest road-less areas in the Lower 48. It offers an unparalleled trail system, as well as extremely remote and challenging off-trail travel. Though the elevations are less lofty than Colorado, the Olympic Mountains have all the characteristics of some of the world’s highest peaks, including some of the largest ice fields in the Lower 48. Lower elevations have the added advantage of eliminating time spent for acclimatization. Pemi West is a great place to join your old Pemi friends on an adventure that will teach you how to become completely self-sufficient in any rugged mountain wilderness. The trip traverses some of the many distinct ecosystems that Olympic National Park encompasses, from temperate rainforest, to ocean beach, to alpine meadow, and glaciated peaks. Glacier travel is an awesome bonus experience in the Olympics that was not available in Colorado. Navigating the rivers of ice on Olympus, while roped to your teammates, is an unforgettable experience, and a skill needed for mountaineering in all of the world’s great ranges. To prevent the need for returning to civilization, and to lighten packs for a day or two, Pemi West in the Olympics also takes advantage of a backcountry re-supply by llama.”

(That last detail makes me jealous. We didn’t have llamas in Colorado.)

Find more information on the features and history of Pemi West, and information on how to apply. (Note that this year’s program is a two-week course, as opposed to the usual three weeks. The shorter course will cover all of the same skills in a more compact, but equally intense wilderness experience.)

The ranks of Pemi West alumni are constantly getting bigger, and there is usually a good number of people who participate in Pemi West as a camper or leader and then migrate back to Pemi in New Hampshire, their teeth cut on the bigger mountains out west. Some have moved on to work for other organizations, or have led gnarly personal trips of their own. If you’ve been a part of Pemi West, either in Colorado or Washington, what was the experience like? Did you come back to Pemi in New Hampshire and join the trip program, or was it “just” a once-in-a-lifetime experience for you?

-Rob Verger