Recently, an alumni of Alzar School, Scott, came through Boise and stayed with administrators Sean and Kristin Bierle. We asked him to describe what he'd been up to. Scott was on the "Chilean Expedition 2007" program, almost 4 years ago. This is what he had to say:
I went through the Alzar Chile program its first year, when I was a sophomore in high school, this was one of the best months of my life. The expedition lasted about a month, during the school year. Although I did miss school, in the month I completed all of the work that my classmates had to do sitting in a classroom. I even got ahead of my class in a couple of subjects, when the teachers fell behind a little. Instead of 6 hours in the class room I was able to finish the work in only 1-2 hours a day. The class work was not the most important thing about this trip. We went kayaking every day except one when we went into Argentina to climb a volcano.
Since the trip, I have started working as a safety kayaker and kayak instructor for a great company on a class 4-5 river in Washington. I work there for a lot of the summer, during the rest of the year I go to school at the University of Washington. My intended major at the UW is astronautics and aeronautics because I am very interested in planes and flying. Going to Chile also made me fall in love with South America, since then I have been to South America a lot. I lived in Ecuador for my senior year of high school. I hope that I will be able to go back to Chile and do some more kayaking in the near future, hopefully with Alzar.
We are super proud of our alumni and the things they accomplish. You can look forward to more content from their perspective in the coming months.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
A Broad View of Wilderness
Sean Bierle, Alzar School Head Teacher, was recently published in the Journal for American Whitewater. His article, with photos, can be found here: http://www.americanwhitewater.org/content/Journal/show-page/issue/5/page/7/year/2010/
A Broad View of Wilderness
Most of the time, beginner kayakers, canoeists, and rafters learn our sport on runs that are not widely considered “wilderness,” often because of the ease of teaching on roadside runs. With the rise of whitewater parks around the country, some of their first experiences might not even be a result of the beautiful combination of rain, snowmelt, gravity, and unique geologic features, but rather attributed to giant pumps, filters and conveyor belts.
It’s easy as an experienced boater or an instructor to forget the amazing sensation these beginners encounter in this introductory period—namely the realization of the untamed power of a river. I would argue that even on “town runs” or at whitewater parks, these fledgling students to whitewater sports feel as if they are in the wilderness. I believe it is the feeling of being slightly out of control, with elements that are foreign and unforgiving (like those darn eddy lines!).
I’ve been paddling for a decade now, and am not sure what my first true “wilderness” run was. Perhaps it was the Jarbridge-Bruneau, done as a kayak self-support trip. Or, a float down Desolation Canyon in Utah. Maybe it was quick pre-permit season trip down the Middle Fork of the Salmon. I know there were a lot of runs down the roadside Payette and the interstate-parallel Pigeon, and laps at the whitewater park in Charlotte first, and mixed in between. Every experience has reminded me that I need something wild in my life to be content. Maybe the new-to-whitewater students we teach are looking for something wild too.
Whatever the reason, I propose that experienced mentors, be they professional instructors or just friends sharing their passion, have an opportunity to really hook these beginners into the sport, and through instruction, to further foster a love of wilderness. Maybe these newly introduced paddlers will join the chorus of us advocating for the protection of rivers that deserve it. As we expose more and more people to whitewater sports as parks move into more and more urban areas (like the US National Whitewater Center in Charlotte), we are harnessing a new generation of paddlers who could step up to protect the classic wilderness rivers we enjoy. They will likely get their start someplace that an elitist might not say is “wilderness,” but it is a start, and mentors fill the gap between the introduction to whitewater and the lifelong passion for enjoying and protecting rivers.
There is, I believe, a unique opportunity to capture the imaginations of young people through whitewater sports. As a high school teacher, I see how much stimuli the upcoming teens are exposed to daily. Given the chance, the majority of teens would have at least one earphone in at all times, preferably texting while watching streaming video on the internet. Whitewater sports are alternative experiences that also deeply engage their senses, get their hearts pumping and muscles moving.
So, let’s get these teens into whitewater in whatever fashion possible. Let’s replace their normal stimulus fix with ours, which is like baiting the hook. And then, when they are ready, let’s move them onto more remote rivers in a responsible way, with education and training. Let’s teach them about the Wild & Scenic act and what it does to protect rivers. Let’s teach them Leave No Trace principles as they apply to river corridors. Let’s partner these students with experts from the agencies that manage the rivers so they can learn more about them.
I am writing this article while in the middle of an expedition with the Alzar School (www.AlzarSchool.com), the nonprofit school of which I am the Head Teacher. Our group of students is currently learning and honing their whitewater kayaking and rafting skills on the Klamath, Cal Salmon, and Payette Rivers, all not terribly remote. But, they’ve been away from showers and cell phones and internet for a week now, and we’ve yet to hear anyone is bored. They’ve camped and been bitten by mosquitoes; they’re sunburnt and tired; they’re excited and happy.
Earlier this week, we floated down Indian Creek in Happy Camp, California. During our trip, we removed trash with the help of the USFS River Ranger, Dave Payne. Students got to see a fun, small, Class II creek and remove several hundred pounds of trash and abandoned metal. The next day, we floated into a riverside campsite on the Klamath River and, again under Dave’s guidance, restored a heavily overgrown beach to camping perfection.
In a couple of weeks, we will take group of graduates and alumni on the Lower Salmon River with Barker River Trips hosting our school. For this special program, we are partnering with Idaho Rivers United to produce a campaign to raise awareness for that river’s bid to become Wild & Scenic. I know the students (and teachers) are chomping at the bit to get to this wilderness run.
This project is the synthesis of elements the Alzar School holds imperative to our organization. It will provide adventure as students kayak and row the big water of the Salmon. It will engage them in service-learning as they spend hours of their summer vacation working on this campaign. Academically, they will be challenged to write professionally-crafted blog entries, to produce high quality videos, and to design an engaging website. And lastly, they will become true environmental stewards as they spread awareness for a section of river that could join its tributaries to make a ridiculously long section of protected river that is saved for future generations of paddlers and wildlife.
This project will be made possible by first introducing the teens to the sport, then honing their skills to get them ready for such a trip, and then giving them a structured, well-supported chance to get out there. I am confident that these teen leaders will fall in love with wilderness rivers the way I have. And this model of introduction, then instruction, and then opportunity to serve should also work with beginners of all ages.
While I am sure that this issue of American Whitewater will feature incredible stories of daring paddlers charging on wilderness rivers around the globe, I encourage us all to remember that feeling of wildness that we got as beginners, and how that planted a seed in us. Our first experiences have led us to become lifelong river lovers, and lovers of rivers will be the ones who speak up with their actions and votes to protect the rivers.
The next time you are on the “town run” or surfing at the park-and-play spot and you see a newbie out there, encourage them. Tell them about the overnight trip you finished on the Chattooga, or the week you spent last summer on the Colorado. Whet their appetite with river tales and maybe the next time this magazine runs an issue dedicated to “wilderness,” they will be the ones submitting articles about their adventures and efforts to save wilderness rivers.
A Broad View of Wilderness
Most of the time, beginner kayakers, canoeists, and rafters learn our sport on runs that are not widely considered “wilderness,” often because of the ease of teaching on roadside runs. With the rise of whitewater parks around the country, some of their first experiences might not even be a result of the beautiful combination of rain, snowmelt, gravity, and unique geologic features, but rather attributed to giant pumps, filters and conveyor belts.
It’s easy as an experienced boater or an instructor to forget the amazing sensation these beginners encounter in this introductory period—namely the realization of the untamed power of a river. I would argue that even on “town runs” or at whitewater parks, these fledgling students to whitewater sports feel as if they are in the wilderness. I believe it is the feeling of being slightly out of control, with elements that are foreign and unforgiving (like those darn eddy lines!).
I’ve been paddling for a decade now, and am not sure what my first true “wilderness” run was. Perhaps it was the Jarbridge-Bruneau, done as a kayak self-support trip. Or, a float down Desolation Canyon in Utah. Maybe it was quick pre-permit season trip down the Middle Fork of the Salmon. I know there were a lot of runs down the roadside Payette and the interstate-parallel Pigeon, and laps at the whitewater park in Charlotte first, and mixed in between. Every experience has reminded me that I need something wild in my life to be content. Maybe the new-to-whitewater students we teach are looking for something wild too.
Whatever the reason, I propose that experienced mentors, be they professional instructors or just friends sharing their passion, have an opportunity to really hook these beginners into the sport, and through instruction, to further foster a love of wilderness. Maybe these newly introduced paddlers will join the chorus of us advocating for the protection of rivers that deserve it. As we expose more and more people to whitewater sports as parks move into more and more urban areas (like the US National Whitewater Center in Charlotte), we are harnessing a new generation of paddlers who could step up to protect the classic wilderness rivers we enjoy. They will likely get their start someplace that an elitist might not say is “wilderness,” but it is a start, and mentors fill the gap between the introduction to whitewater and the lifelong passion for enjoying and protecting rivers.
There is, I believe, a unique opportunity to capture the imaginations of young people through whitewater sports. As a high school teacher, I see how much stimuli the upcoming teens are exposed to daily. Given the chance, the majority of teens would have at least one earphone in at all times, preferably texting while watching streaming video on the internet. Whitewater sports are alternative experiences that also deeply engage their senses, get their hearts pumping and muscles moving.
So, let’s get these teens into whitewater in whatever fashion possible. Let’s replace their normal stimulus fix with ours, which is like baiting the hook. And then, when they are ready, let’s move them onto more remote rivers in a responsible way, with education and training. Let’s teach them about the Wild & Scenic act and what it does to protect rivers. Let’s teach them Leave No Trace principles as they apply to river corridors. Let’s partner these students with experts from the agencies that manage the rivers so they can learn more about them.
I am writing this article while in the middle of an expedition with the Alzar School (www.AlzarSchool.com), the nonprofit school of which I am the Head Teacher. Our group of students is currently learning and honing their whitewater kayaking and rafting skills on the Klamath, Cal Salmon, and Payette Rivers, all not terribly remote. But, they’ve been away from showers and cell phones and internet for a week now, and we’ve yet to hear anyone is bored. They’ve camped and been bitten by mosquitoes; they’re sunburnt and tired; they’re excited and happy.
Earlier this week, we floated down Indian Creek in Happy Camp, California. During our trip, we removed trash with the help of the USFS River Ranger, Dave Payne. Students got to see a fun, small, Class II creek and remove several hundred pounds of trash and abandoned metal. The next day, we floated into a riverside campsite on the Klamath River and, again under Dave’s guidance, restored a heavily overgrown beach to camping perfection.
In a couple of weeks, we will take group of graduates and alumni on the Lower Salmon River with Barker River Trips hosting our school. For this special program, we are partnering with Idaho Rivers United to produce a campaign to raise awareness for that river’s bid to become Wild & Scenic. I know the students (and teachers) are chomping at the bit to get to this wilderness run.
This project is the synthesis of elements the Alzar School holds imperative to our organization. It will provide adventure as students kayak and row the big water of the Salmon. It will engage them in service-learning as they spend hours of their summer vacation working on this campaign. Academically, they will be challenged to write professionally-crafted blog entries, to produce high quality videos, and to design an engaging website. And lastly, they will become true environmental stewards as they spread awareness for a section of river that could join its tributaries to make a ridiculously long section of protected river that is saved for future generations of paddlers and wildlife.
This project will be made possible by first introducing the teens to the sport, then honing their skills to get them ready for such a trip, and then giving them a structured, well-supported chance to get out there. I am confident that these teen leaders will fall in love with wilderness rivers the way I have. And this model of introduction, then instruction, and then opportunity to serve should also work with beginners of all ages.
While I am sure that this issue of American Whitewater will feature incredible stories of daring paddlers charging on wilderness rivers around the globe, I encourage us all to remember that feeling of wildness that we got as beginners, and how that planted a seed in us. Our first experiences have led us to become lifelong river lovers, and lovers of rivers will be the ones who speak up with their actions and votes to protect the rivers.
The next time you are on the “town run” or surfing at the park-and-play spot and you see a newbie out there, encourage them. Tell them about the overnight trip you finished on the Chattooga, or the week you spent last summer on the Colorado. Whet their appetite with river tales and maybe the next time this magazine runs an issue dedicated to “wilderness,” they will be the ones submitting articles about their adventures and efforts to save wilderness rivers.
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