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Meet The Graduate Students, Class of 2020, part 3

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This is part 3 of our Cohort 18 Graduate Student Introductions. Click to view part 1, and part 2.

After two months in the field, learning, getting to know each other, and taking many 90s band photos, the new graduate students from the Graduate M.Ed. Program‘s 18th Cohort have finally settled into their Residency in the North Cascades! Each member of our cohort will bring their unique backgrounds, experiences, and personalities to the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center as they continue to learn and engage with our new home. In my work study position as blog post writer and editor, I’ve been tasked with continuing the tradition of allowing all of these weird, wild and wonderful individuals to introduce themselves.

Below is the third and final installment of a 3 part series, sharing with you a brief look at who we are, why we’re here, and anything else we think you should know about us. If you work or play around the  learning center, you are likely to run into us, so take a few minutes to get to know us here!

Dianna Green:

Dianna enjoying the fall colors. Photo by Joshua Porter

In high school, I was fortunate enough to participate with an organization called the Student Conservation Association for three summers. Each year, I would fly to a remote part of the country and spend four weeks doing trail work in a National Park. I was fortunate to be placed in Grand Teton NP, Kenai Fjords NP, and Lake Clark NP. These experiences developed what I wanted to do with my life. I was astonished to have my learning style met for the first time; it was not something that was taught at my school. I realized that environmental education was the field that I needed to pursue.

My favorite experience at NCI was going on a 9 day backpacking trip with members of my cohort. There is something special about being out in the woods, in places that we’ve talked about, with only my gear on my back that brings a group together. It’s amazing to see more of this special place we live in!

Spencer Gee:

Spencer lookin’ fly on Ross Lake. Photo by Nicola Follis

The first time I had ever seen the state of Washington was this August when I packed up my life and made the four-day road trip from Virginia to start my residency in the North Cascades Park. Prior to moving across the country, I had been working as a youth development professional at the Northern Virginia 4-H Educational Center teaching adventure, multimedia, and STEAM. While I was there, I realized that I really enjoyed sharing my passions for adventure and natural exploration with people of all ages and decided to pursue a M.Ed in Environmental Education.

So far, I have really enjoyed my time at the North Cascades Institute, as it has given me a great way to try new things and explore new places. My favorite experience has probably been the 9-day backpack that concluded our Place-Based Learning Course in September. I had never been backpacking before and was super nervous about the experience, however I realized that it is not an impossible task and that the experiences and views are almost always worth the long days of hiking.

For the rest of my residency, I am looking forward to working as the Youth Leadership Assistant and learning about the different teaching styles used in the outdoor education world at North Cascades Institute. You can catch me experiencing the amazingness of the North Cascades and watching movies when I’m not studying or sleeping.

Chris Williams:

Chris posing with a Rubber Boa on the C18 Natural History Trip. Photo By Ali Burdick

I grew up in the East San Francisco Bay Area and have been drawn to wildlife and conservation since I was a child. I studied zoology at Evergreen State College and was able to study tropical biology in Ecuador and Australia as well as participate in marine mammal research. After spending time in the research and conservation world, I figured out that a lot of our messages aren’t getting out to certain groups of people. As someone who considers myself an environmentalist, I believe that the fight to conserve our environment is one that everyone should be a part of. I was drawn to this program because it combines my interests of conservation and public outreach. My goals include inspiring more African-Americans and other marginalized groups to get involved in conservation and environmental issues. I hope to increase access for underprivileged people in outdoor spaces and to get better at working with diverse audiences.

My favorite part of the residency so far has been observing ecological changes through altitudinal changes. It has been mind-blowing to see how the species composition changes is you ascend or descend in altitude, which we did a lot of on our 9-day backpacking trip. So far, I have made some fantastic ecological observations such as seeing my first ever merlin, seeing a moose run in front of our bus, and getting to hold a rubber boa that we found on the side of the road. I look forward to seeing what other organisms I will see throughout the residency and what changes I will see as the seasons change.

My hobbies include birdwatching, hiking, backpacking, and kayaking. I recently became a leader in the organization Outdoor Afro; an organization that celebrates and inspires African American connections and leadership in nature.

Thumper Ormerod:

Thumper riding “princess” in a canoe on the Skagit River. Photo by Christine Sanderson.

When people first meet me they usually think, “Wow! What a fun, extroverted person!” After they meet me, I like to run away and hide in my room to regain my strength. I have expended all my mana on casting charm spells, leaving me (read: the biggest introvert) completely exhausted. However, after recovering I will indeed interact with those humans again and again. Having been born from the shadows of anxiety, I struggled to emulate those wonderful (and definitely non-toxic) binary genders that all my favorite celebrities display. Instead I toil my days away as a non-binary specter, preferring to be referred to with pronouns like they/them. This toiling usually takes the form of long nature walks, providing me with ample time to will myself into preposterous situations. I have weaseled my way into many of these situations: performing stand-up comedy, acting, leading backpacking trips, singing opera, and being a summer camp director. Now it seems they have let me into graduate school, where I can hug all of the trees. It is my dream to always be a part of intentional, emotionally safe communities with dedicated purpose. For this reason I have become particularly enamored with the North Cascades Institute. I also like cooking!

Since we as a cohort began camping back in August I have had the opportunity to cook many soups, curries, and chilis. In my opinion, the pinnacle of outdoor cooking in our generation is the practice of making Thai food in the woods. There are many important considerations to peanut sauces and curries: What oil are you using? How much peanut butter is TOO much? Have you remembered to fry your pastes and spices before adding meat or vegetables in order to bring out the flavors? However, at the end of the day I would suggest that you simply have fun and accept that what you make will not in the end resemble anything you might actually order at a traditional Thai restaurant. This will not keep your foods from being any less delicious, in fact the unique nature of these dishes has greatly improved my time here in school. Some people tell me that graduate school is about keeping your head down and completing all of your assignments on time, but they have never floated upriver in a canoe. I have and it felt awesome, like seeing all of the members of Radiohead in line for frozen yogurt, but better. Thank you NCI!

In conclusion, the world is a beautiful place made better by all of us being in it, especially those of us working to bring people closer to the natural world; I know it, you know it, Aldo Leopold knew it, and Smokey Bear knows it, too. You may be asking yourself: “But Thumper, what can I do? They don’t even recycle in my hometown. How can I possibly make a difference?”

Go outside.

Connect yourself to the world, and all of its people.

By changing even just our own lives we all serve as wonderful role models for friends, siblings, lovers, distant cousins and weird co-workers. Be brave and love with reckless abandon. I will be right there next to you.

That’s All Folks! Thank you for reading all of our wonderful biographies, and keep a look out for us next time you visit the Environmental Learning Center!


Winter Awareness: Snow Safety in the North Cascades

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Today is Winter Safety Day at the Environmental Learning Center, and with colder weather and snow on the way, it seems timely to release this article written by Graduate Student Spencer Gee as part of the the Fall Natural History Project in North Cascades Institute’s M.Ed. Residency coursework. If you are planning to venture into the mountains this winter, take a few minutes to read these snow safety tips!


Winter is coming. In the North Cascades, this season is accompanied by an average of 57.7 inches of snow that drifts, collects, and freezes along roadsides and much more in the high alpine regions of the mountains. Many of these mountainsides covered in snow will create the conditions for avalanches throughout the season. Though this causes potential risks, there are several ways to reduce the dangers for outdoor recreation of all types.

Safety Tip 1: Be Prepared

Preparation in the backcountry takes many different forms, depending on the season, terrain, and experience of the adventurer. To be prepared in avalanche country, it is important to look over the weather forecast and snow conditions for the day and area you plan to recreate in. By understanding the area you will be in, you are more likely to bring the necessary materials and adjust your plans to best suit the day ahead.

North American Public Avalanche Awareness Scale

Safety Tip 2: Take a Friend

There are lots of different reasons to bring a friend with you into the outdoors. Having them out there not only allows you to share the amazing views and experiences with another person, but also provides both of you a sense of safety for if something goes wrong. During avalanche season, having a friend could be the difference between life or death, as they may be the only one in the area with that can call for help or begin to search for you.

Safety Tip 3: Get the Gear

There’s lots of suggested safety gear for those who recreate in the high slopes of avalanche country, and while not all of it is necessary when going outdoors, there is some that could help prepare you for the worst. Arguably the most important equipment to bring into the alpine environment is a transceiver, shovel, and probe. This equipment allows for others with you, as well as search and rescue teams, to locate you underneath the snow using a pulsed radio signal if you are buried. But no matter the type of transmitter you use, this equipment will not replace the knowledge of an area and ability to change your plans.

Photo credit to Teton Backcountry Rentals

Safety Tip 4: Pay Attention

Paying attention is one of the most important factors in avalanche safety. Even more so than carrying the right equipment, those who chose to adventure into the alpine mountains must be able to read the weather and make decisions for the safety of those in the group. It is important that alpine explorers be able to make decisions quickly in order to avoid as many risks as possible.

The Avalanche Triangle. Understanding how these elements interact is essential to making good decisions in the backcountry.

Safety Tip 5: Minimize the Risk

The best way to survive an avalanche is to not be caught in an avalanche in the first place. This means it is important to reduce the risk of being in avalanche terrain as much as possible. The chance of survival if buried by an avalanche is only 30%, and it drops drastically after fifteen minutes. To do this effectively, use the tips mentioned in this post as well as think about taking an avalanche safety course to practice your skills and prepare you for the worst-case scenarios.

Looking for evidence of avalanches and potential paths is important to minimizing risk.

 


Additional Sources

“Avalanche Safety 101.” backcountry.com. https://www.backcountry.com/sc/avalanche-safety-101.

“Average Annual Snowfall Totals in Washington – Current Results.” https://www.currentresults.com/Weather/Washington/annual-snowfall.php

“How to Choose Avalanche Transceivers | REI Expert Advice.” REI.  https://www.rei.com/learn/expert-advice/avalanche-transceiver.html

Before you head out on your next alpine adventure, be sure to check out these sources regularly for up-to-date information on weather, road and avalanche conditions.

Washington Department of Transportation

NOAA Weather

Northwest Avalanche Center

Stay safe this winter!

A Promise Fulfilled: 2018 Sees The Return of Fishers to the North Cascades!

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On a cold morning, in early December, more than 100 scientists, students and conservation enthusiasts gathered at North Cascades National Park Visitor Center in Newhalem to witness the exciting culmination of a years-long project to return fishers to the North Cascades. The C18 Cohort from the North Cascades Institute’s Graduate M.Ed Program was in attendance to show support, and witness conservation biology first-hand as part of their Fall Natural History studies.

Many of the cohort members were unsure of what to expect. “Will we be outside the whole time?” wondered some the students, as we stood in the parking lot watching each other exhale clouds of steamy vapor in the freezing mountain air. “How do these things usually go?” “Will we even get see a fisher?” Much to our delight, the professionals at the National Park Service did not disappoint. This was after-all not their first rodeo. 

The project to restore fishers to Washington State, after being extirpated through trapping and deforestation in the early 20th century, began in 2008 when the first fishers were released in Olympic National Park. Since then, 90 fishers have been released in the Olympic Mountains, and another 69 were released in the South Cascades between 2015, and 2017. But, until now, they remained absent from Washington’s most rugged and remote mountain ranges in the North Cascades.

After a few minutes of shivering in the parking lot wondering what in the world we were about to see, the crowd was ushered into the Visitor Center, where we were greeted by cookies, coffee and the warm glow of a fire crackling in the fireplace. An interpretive display, adorned with fisher pelts and a flat-hat wearing park ranger was there as well, and there was the palpable feeling that we were about to witness something special.

Before we could see the main event, the group gathered in the Visitor Center  auditorium for acknowledgments and the incredible tale of how we got to this point. The work of brining fishers to back the North Cascades was not easy. It required the determination and partnership between dozens of committed scientists, volunteers and conservation activists led by the National Park Service, The Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife and Conservation Northwest. The fishers to be released in the North Cascades were originally supposed to be brought in from British Columbia, but after devastating forest fires ravaged their habitat last year, that plan was scrapped, and the fishers instead were acquired from trappers in Alberta. Before they could be transported U.S., the fishers were held for several weeks at the Calgary Zoo, where they were tested for overall health, and underwent minor surgery to be implanted with radio transmitters so they can be tracked by biologists after their release.

The event was then blessed by members of the Upper Skagit and Lummi Nations, and we went outside to get the release underway. First, the fishers were carried from where the trucks were parked at the Visitor Center down the long, winding switchback of the River Loop Trial to an open mossy forest bottom where the fishers were to be released. Once everyone was in place, and the stage was set, it was finally time to introduce the furry carnivores to their new home.

The first Fisher released into its new home. Photo by Carson Yach

At approximately 12:30 p.m., with the cameras ready, and student singers from the Lummi Nation singing traditional songs to welcome a lost brother back home, the first cage was open, and history was made. It took a few seconds for the first fisher (an adult female) to pop her head out, but once she did, it was only a moment before she bounded off into the forest, and out of view!

In all, 6 fishers, 1 male and 5 female, were released in the North Cascades, but the story will not end here. December’s release is just the first of many. The park is planning to release approximately 80 animals between now and 2020, giving the creatures a great chance at becoming a permanent fixture in our ecosystem.

Being able to see these animals return to their home, was a truly unique and inspiring experience. In our trying times of climate change and biodiversity loss around the world, witnessing this event served as a reminder that good work is happening. As humans we still have opportunities to right our wrongs, and offer 2nd chances to species that were once forgotten.

Along with fishers, grizzly bear reintroduction to the North Cascades is also in the works, and the biologists at the fisher release indicated that we may see these bears back in the North Cascades in the coming months. All good news as efforts to protect, preserve, and restore our wild lands continue. Stay tuned!

Fisher bounding away into its new home in the North Cascades. Photo by Matt Ferrell

The Land as a Teacher: Land Stewardship at the Confluence Property

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There’s no getting around it, being a graduate student at the North Cascades Institute’s M.Ed Program is a lot of work. With all-day classes and seminars, dense reading, writing and project assignments, and keeping up with work study, it’s easy to forget that we live in such a unique and beautiful place. Some weeks, taking a few hours to get out for a hike or paddle on Diablo Lake feels like a luxury, particularly in the dark days of Winter. However, this master’s  program is not like many others, and most of the students that choose to spend a year in the mountains do so to connect more intimately with the land than a typical on-campus program might offer. Fortunately for those of us who prefer to take our education outdoors, the M.Ed Program offers us opportunities to get some hands-on land stewardship experience right in our own backyard!

The Confluence Property, located at the confluence of Diobsud Creek and the Skagit River in Marblemount, has been under constant evolution since it was purchased by the North Cascades Institute in 2014. The land serves as a home for graduate students, a garden that supports the Institute’s Foodshed Initiative and an outdoor classroom for students to learn about and participate in sustainable gardening and land stewardship.

The land is a powerful teacher. And as an educator, I love facilitating learning experiences that connect people and land directly. Often, that looks like designing experiences that involve interaction and engagement, and getting out of the way.”

-Graduate Program Coordinator Joshua Porter

Graduate Program Coordinator Joshua Porter

Last Fall, the C18 Graduate Cohort was busy with a variety of projects that do just that. With an accumulated 95 hours of labor over several weeks in October and November, we have contributed to several projects including: finishing the fall harvest from the garden, building a plot for a greenhouse for continued gardening through the winter, organizing and leveling the tool shed, removing invasive plants, fencing fruit trees in the orchard, clearing brush for recreation space and building trails for access to the confluence and phenology studies.

Graduate Student Spencer Gee harvesting carrots in the Confluence Garden.
Graduate Student Carson Yach fencing some trees in the Orchard.
Graduate Student Christine Sanderson clearing sod for our greenhouse.
Graduate Student Dianna Green

In addition to being a great outlet to get our hands dirty and relieve some grad-school stress while improving the land we call home, The Confluence Property has also served as a great opportunity to observe changes on the land through phenology. Phenology is the study of seasonal changes in biotic and aboitic elements in our environment, such as plants and water, throughout the year.

Graduate Students Adam Brayton and Ali Burdick collecting phenology data. Photo by Amy Fitkin

Each week, students take time to collect data on various plant samples, take pictures, and record relevant information such as weather and wildlife sign. The data we collect is combined with the data collected by past cohorts that allow us to monitor changes in our environment not just from season to season, but also from year to year. This provides us the ability to analyze shifts in climate and ecosystem composition over longer time periods, notice patterns and make predictions about the future. So far, C18 cohort has entered over 261 data entries and 175 different species observations to add to our growing phenology almanac!

 Having the ability to intentionally observe and document seasonal changes has been powerful. It is an exciting connection between observer, the natural world and cohorts that have come before us.”

-Graduate Student Nicola Follis

Devil’s Club in Fall.
Devil’s Club in Winter
Vine Maple in Fall
Vine Maple in Winter.
Skagit River in early Fall
Skagit River in late Fall

It has been a blast to watch this property evolve under the stewardship of our cohort, but the work is far from over. Spring will bring new changes to the land, and with it opportunities to advance the projects we’ve started, re-plant the garden, and record all of the exciting changes in the natural environment.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned for an update later this year!

The Environmental Educator’s Dilemma: How to Bring the Outdoors Inside

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In December, I was able to volunteer with the Kulshan Creek Program in Villa Santa Maria along with two other members of the North Cascades Institute’s M.Ed graduate cohort, Nicola and Dianna.  The program offers monthly educational opportunities for young people from the communities in Mount Vernon, WA, including Kulshan Creek, Villa Santa Maria, and La Casa de San Jose. The program is made possible due to a unique collaboration between the North Cascades Institute, Mount Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, Mount Vernon Police Department, Catholic Housing Services, North Cascades National ParkSkagit Fisheries Enhancement Group, and Skagit Land Trust. Each month, students have the opportunity to attend a Saturday field trip to explore their surrounding community and learn about the Skagit Valley watershed.

Kids from Villa Santa Maria. Photo by Christine Sanderson.

December’s field trip was centered around wreath making in Villa Santa Maria. Given that this was the first time most of the participants had ever made Christmas wreaths – including myself and Dianna! – there was a lot of excitement and anticipation. Certainly, we couldn’t complain too much about a chilly December Saturday spent on indoor craft activities but it did present a challenge for Dianna and Nicola’s educational activities on the watershed – how do you effectively bring the outdoors inside?

Wreath Making. Photo by Christine Sanderson
Graduate Student Dianna Green helping student make wreaths. Photo by Christine Sanderson
One Student’s Masterpiece! Photo by Christine Sanderson.

This, of course, is a question most environmental educators will grapple with at some point. Not all experiential education can take place at Mountain School or even in the outdoors. Effective environmental educators will need to develop skills to teach both indoors and outdoors, in rural communities and urban communities – and to find ways to make indoor educational experiences meaningful to students.

Dianna and Nicola designed activities that used different mediums to bring the watershed to our indoor setting. Dianna’s activity asked students to draw their home next to the Skagit River, and then think about what pollutants from their picture might inadvertently end up in the river (gasoline or oil from cars, for example). Using colored beads as a representation, we saw how combined, all of these pollutants wash into the watershed and then drain into the Salish Sea. After a problem-solving brainstorm session, students drew a second picture with ideas of how to conserve water and protect the nearby watershed.

Kulshan Creek Students drawing their watershed. Photo by Christine Sanderson.
Photo By Christine Sanderson
Photo by Christine Sanderson.

Later in the day, Nicola literally brought the outdoors into the room by bringing in a bucket of local plants and spreading them out across the floor. Students paired up and with one student leading and the other blindfolded, they used touch, sound, and smell to learn about their plant. After the blindfolded student had time with the plant, their partner led them back to the edge of the room, where they took the blindfold off and tried to find the same plant again.  This let students get to know some of the plants in their community and think about the various ways in which they can interact, notice, and be mindful about nature. Plus, there were a lot of giggles!

Plant Activity. Photo by Christine Sanderson
Photo by Christine Sanderson

We had a blast spending the day with Kulshan Creek and tackling the challenge of bringing the local watershed to an indoor space. Are you an educator who has tackled this challenge differently? We would love to hear about some of the environmental education activities you use indoors!

Reconnect Earth: Activating the Next Generation of Environmental Advocates

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I’ve devoted the last three years of my life to figuring out how to combine two of my greatest passions: environmental activism and environmental education. In 2018 I took a big step on this journey by founding a new nonprofit organization based in Bellingham, Washington focused on this goal. But I couldn’t have reached that point without the year I spent at the North Cascades Institute.

I spent most of my twenties as an activist fighting to move our economy off of fossil fuels. I organized people to attend public hearings, coordinated rallies, and even risked arrest a few times. I met many amazing people through these experiences, and found the work immensely rewarding in some ways. But eventually I began feeling burnt out.

Nick in his activist days at a rally in Missoula.

Why, I wondered, did working to protect the environment so often involve separating myself from the natural world as I spent my time coordinating conference calls and running meetings? Surely, there must be a way to combine saving the planet with spending time outside in wild places—and encouraging others to do the same? These questions led me to become an environmental educator.

In 2016 I entered the M.Ed. program in Environmental Education, a partnership between North Cascades Institute and Huxley College at Western Washington University. I learned to help people form connections to outdoor places I hoped would inspire them to care for these places more deeply. I also learned about how to manage a functional nonprofit organization. By the time I graduated I felt ready to launch Reconnect Earth, a nonprofit that takes teenagers and young adults outside to learn about the natural world and how to protect it.

Student on Chuckanuts Fall Trip.

During Reconnect Earth’s first field season last fall we ran weekend day trips that took groups of WWU students to parks and wild places in and around Bellingham, where they learned about local ecology while discussing social and environmental issues and how to take action on them. We explored the Chuckanut Mountains, observed migrating salmon, and visited the site where a branch of the Trans-Mountain Oil Pipeline crosses beneath the Nooksack River. Each trip ended with a letter-writing workshop where students wrote to local decision makers about climate change.

Trans-Mountain Pipeline at the Nooksack River.

A central tenet of Reconnect Earth’s philosophy is wild places and “wilderness” areas are not separate from the world of human activity. These places are the sites of ongoing conflicts over resource extraction, Indigenous sovereignty, and colonialism. This makes outdoor landscapes a perfect setting to learn about environmental and social justice issues that affect our everyday lives. Every Reconnect Earth trip includes a discussion about the human history of the area and the Indigenous peoples who have lived there since time immemorial.

Reconnect Earth’s weekend trips are continuing this winter and spring. Meanwhile, we’re ramping up for an even more ambitious season this summer. In Summer 2019 we’ll be taking groups of students on backpacking trips in the North Cascades where they’ll not only learn about the area and its inhabitants, but engage in training on activist skills they can take home to their communities. Having spent over a decade as an activist myself, I know how valuable these kinds of training experiences can be.

Letter Writing Workshop on RCE Fall Trip.

Starting an organization from the ground up has been lots of work; and preparing for this summer’s trips has been even more. But I’m excited to report that things are in place so that beginning in early February, we are accepting applications for our summer trips! These programs are open to college students and other self-identified young people ages 16 and up.

Students Hiking on Chuckanuts Fall Trip.

You can learn more about Reconnect Earth here. And if you have a young person in your life who wants to change the world while experiencing beautiful wild places, encourage them to apply for our summer program here.

Meeting Students where they are: Reflections on Mountain School

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It’s hard to believe, but we’re officially halfway through the Mountain School Spring 2019 season! In just over six weeks, we have already seen a wide variety of weather, students and communities at the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center. As a graduate student with North Cascades Institute’s M.Ed Program, my cohort and I have had the opportunity to take our academic studies into the field to get some practical experience teaching.

The experience so far has been both a tremendous challenge and an incredible reward. While most people are familiar with Mountain School as a popular youth program for local students, only a lucky few have had the opportunity to experience the program first-hand. So for everyone else, I’ve decided to share some of my personal reflections on what it’s like to be on the frontline of one of the most successful residential environmental education programs in the Pacific Northwest!

The first thing that struck me from my very first Mountain School session was my sense of inadequacy as an instructor. I was not new to teaching, or Environmental Education by any means. Prior to coming into this master’s program, I had lead field trips for students as an interpretive ranger in Glacier National Park. However, since arriving on campus last fall, most of my time in the program had been spent in various classes, seminars, and working on reading and writing-based assignments for my coursework. It had been many months since I had taught an audience outside of my cohort and I had completely forgotten how to talk to children!

Matt leading a trail group on the Peninsula Trail. Photo by Cara Stoddard.

While I stumbled mightily through my first day, trying clumsily to describe water cycles and geology to 5th graders, I ultimately found my rhythm and began to remember why I enjoy teaching. Like most things in life, the practice of Environmental Education is worlds apart from its theory. All of the greatest naturalist writings and BEETLES curriculum seminars cannot prepare you for the reality of standing before a group of giggling, distracted, shy and insecure eleven-year-olds trying to decide if any of the activities you’ve meticulously constructed will mean anything at all to these small humans. To me, the key to success, or some version of it, is to be constantly evolving and reevaluating myself and the curriculum in order to meet students where they are.

Mountain School Students hiking to Diablo Dam. Photo by Emily Bedker.

Mountain School brings in a great diversity of students to our campus. In a given season, an instructor could potentially teach private school students from Seattle one week, students from a rural logging community such as Darrington the next, bi-lingual students from Mt. Vernon and Indigenous students from Lummi Nation. Each student comes to Mountain School with a vastly different background, culture and knowledge about the natural world, so we cannot assume that every lesson in the curriculum binder is suited for every student.

Some students come in already knowing many of the core concepts from their previous experiences with other outdoor programs or hiking with family. For many others, Mountain School represents their first interactions with the sights and sounds of a wild forest. Understanding this — and being ready to improvise to facilitate an experience that will touch a chord across a diverse spectrum of students — is the art of good teaching, and the challenge of every new session.

Matt teaching Lummi Students. Photo by Cara Stoddard.

Fortunately, the Mountain School curriculum provides a whole host of different lessons, activities and games aimed at creating unique experiences. Along with that, our leadership team supports instructors with autonomy to let us decide what type of experience is best for our students. This gives us the permission to experiment outside of written lesson plans, and has allowed me the freedom to figure out where my students are at, what each is hoping to get from their time at Mountain School and the best way to deliver.

Ultimately, I do not have a rose-colored-glasses view of my work here. I fully understand that not every student will emerge from Mountain School with a firm grasp of the rock cycle or able to name every plant in the forest. Three days is not enough time to do that, and that isn’t the point. I’m aware that a few months from now most of these students will probably remember very little about the lessons we taught or the vocabulary we shared.

My hope however, is that they will remember Mountain School as a place where they were challenged to hike uphill to a waterfall, touch a mossy tree trunk or eat vegetarian for a few meals. I hope that they will remember the joy of throwing rocks into the lake, the incredible images of a fir cone looks under a microscope, and how peaceful they felt silently hiking under ancient trees.

Lummi Student hugging a tree at Mountain School.

I believe Mountain School is a great program not because it has the potential to turn 5th graders into scientists and environmentalists, but because it introduces students to the idea that time spent outside, with friends, sharing ideas and stepping outside of comfort zones is important. It creates for them the space to explore nature in its most basic and pure form, and helps students realize that they themselves are a part of the world around them. In almost every student, I see moments of connection, wonder and joy in their faces when they experience something new in nature. I like to think of those moments as tiny seeds being planted in their minds.

I don’t know yet what those seeds may grow into, but I know they would never find a place to take root if not for Mountain School.

You can support Mountain School with your gift during our Spring Give BIG for Youth campaign. Thank you!

Seasonal Changes on the Confluence: A Year in the North Cascades

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Far up the Skagit River, the Confluence property, a plot of land where Diobsud Creek and the river meet, sees extremes of weather and seasonal change. The mighty Skagit swells with life in the fall, and then drops to reveal banks vastly altered. Cottonwoods grow tall in a forest that floods, and serve as perches for Bald Eagles seeking out salmon, and a source of food for the beavers that travel this stretch of the river. With salmon runs, this stretch of the Skagit has been important to the Upper Skagit Indian Tribe, who have lived here since time immemorial. The garden ebs and flows in productive loam with the input of rain, sunlight, and a little help from the people who live there today.

This land is home to a learning community of resident graduate students. Alongside them is a community of plants and animals that change and move with the seasons. The lucky people who live at the Confluence have a unique opportunity to inquire into the changes they witness. From contributing to a community science project studying phenology to farming at the Confluence Garden, graduate students sink deep into place, and study the natural history out their front door during their residency. I, Brendan McGarry (C17), share here with you the seasonal changes I was lucky to engage in over the course of my residency as the Graduate Field Science Assistant 2017-19.

 

One of the great pleasures of the Confluence Community is All Cohort Day, when two cohorts engage in food, learning, and play at the terminus of one year of residency and the beginning of the next.

Winter

The North Cascades are very snowy, and Marblemount gets its fair share of snow (29 inches a year on average). This doesn’t stick around all winter, but it changes the landscape considerably during the winter.

Heavy snow turns the property almost unrecognizable.

Many birds leave the area during heavy snowfall, others arrive. During one snowfall in 2018, multiple Red-breasted Sapsuckers (Sphyrapicus ruber) showed up around the Confluence, pushed out of the surrounding hills by the harsh weather. Woodpeckers are one of the few species that can stick around during especially cold weather, because they are able to find food regardless of snow cover. Bald Eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) and Common Raven (Corvus corax) are heard along the Skagit in winter, often there to feed on salmon runs. Many songbirds leave completely during the winter. Some migrate to Mexico and Central America, like tanagers and warblers. Others like Varied Thrushes (Ixoreus naevius) merely migrate down valley to a lower, milder climate.

A Red-breasted Sapsucker on a tree right outside the door of the Blue House.

Most small mammals slow down or retreat to a nice burrow. Some move about in the subnivean, the space between snow and the ground in winter. When snow thaws, we can see the subnivean runs of species like Townsend’s Voles (Microtus townsendii) in the matted grass. A Bobcat (Lynx rufus) was seen in the winter of 2017/18, as were multiple Coyotes (Canis latrans), which presumably live off these rodents and possibly Snowshoe Hares on surrounding mountains.

A roden’s run, previously beneath the snow

The Confluence is within the floodplain, and while there are conifers on the property and on surrounding hills, the dominant canopy cover is deciduous. Black Cottonwood (Populus tricocarpa), Red Alder (Alnus rubra), and Bigleaf Maple (Acer macrophyllum) are the most common trees along the shore of the Skagit making the forest much brighter and open during the winter. The understory is mostly composed of Indian Plum (Oemleria cerasiformis), Salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis), Common Snowberry (Symphoricarpos albus), and Red Elderberry (Sambucus racemosa), all of which lose their leaves as well. The difference between the forest lining the Skagit in winter versus summer is striking.

Spring:

Elevation and location make all the difference when spring finally happens. As residents at the Confluence travel back and forth to the Environmental Learning Center, they get to watch spring travel up the Skagit River. An Indian plum may be blooming with nearly fully formed leaves in late March in Marblemount, while a plant at the Learning Center might just be breaking buds.

Although blooms in the nearby alpine are more celebrated, spring flowers are happy reminders that sun will soon grace the Confluence again. Below are some images that I took during my spring at the Confluence. I used a portable light box to photograph these flowers on the plant. I incorporated this type of photography into my Curriculum Design Class project, using art and scientific inquiry as a method of engaging students in place.

salmonberry (Rubus spectabilis)
Pacific bleeding heart (Dicentra formosa)
Bigleaf Maple (Acer macrophyllum)

Birds are easy to see and hear this time of year, and are often harbingers of spring. Successive waves of migrating birds move through the valley until migration slows in June. In March there were several days when Townsend’s Solitaires (Myadestes townsendia), a migrant from Mexico, filled the valley. They were followed by waves of Varied Thrushes returning from the lowlands. Early May seemed to be all about Yellow-rumped Warblers (Setophaga coronata). Some of these birds simply move through, others show up for summer to breed.

Townsend’s Solitaire at the Confluence property in April.
Varied Thrush move up and down the valley and are only truly gone from the confluence for a few months in the depths of winter. It’s exciting when they first arrive back in late March, announced by their thin, eerie whistles through the forest.

Summer:

The river level and flow drops significantly in the summer. This makes the river safer to paddle overall, but can expose rocks that make it more challenging to navigate in certain places. Because the Skagit is fed by both snowmelt and glaciers, it stays very cold year-round. This makes a dip very refreshing, but full-on swimming hard to handle. More exposed banks also offer opportunities to see what neighbors are visiting the shoreline.

An exposed rocky shoreline in August that was completely covered by water in May.
Spotted Sandiper (Actitis macularius) tracks on an exposed rock in the Skagit River.

Spending time in a special place like the Confluence leads to all sorts of discoveries. Though it can be assumed that birds singing around the property breed there, the evidence isn’t always as obvious as finding nests with young. In the summer of 2018, Vaux’s Swifts (Chaetura vauxi) nested in the old chimney of the Blue House. As the youngsters grew in size, they were audible through the walls of the house!

Vaux’s Swifts in the chimney of the Blue House.

Fall:

The Skagit River is fortunate to have all 5 species of salmon that inhabit the Pacific Northwest. During the fall and into winter, the confluence of the Skagit River and Diobsud creek is busy with activity, both from salmon and those who show up to eat them. Pink Salmon (Oncorhynchus gorbuscha) and Chinook Salmon (Oncorhynchus tshawytscha), as well as Steelhead Trout (Oncorhynchus mykiss) all used the creek and the eddy it forms in the Skagit to dig redds for their eggs. The fall of 2017 saw a large amount of Pink Salmon spawning and dying along the shores of the property. This brought lots of other animals including bears, coyotes, and plenty of birds, many of which were captured in images on a game camera set along the shore of Diobsud. One day in early October I counted 95 salmon carcasses just on shore with dozens of gulls, crows, and thirty American Dippers (Cinclus mexicanus) eating the remains!
A decaying Pink Salmon along the Skagit
Black Bear doing some early morning fishing. Only moments later, the camera picked up a fisheries biologist walking by, and only a few minutes later the bear reappeared to fish!

The Confluence doesn’t get the fall colors of the nearby alpine does. But between Bigleaf Maples, Black Cottonwoods, and Red Alders, fall can still be very yellow.

The road between Marblemount and the Confluence on a magical fall day.
A Bigleaf Maple at the Confluence.

Brendan McGarry

I am a member of the recently graduated Cohort 17 and a Graduate Field Science Assistant for my work study position at the North Cascades Institute for the duration of the program. I am passionate about science education and communication, using creative outlets to connect people with the world around them. Being a part of the Field Science team encouraged me to pay even more attention. I am excited to find a career that helps people see themselves as stewards of the land, no matter where they live and in whatever form it takes.

 

 


Thanks to Brendan for sharing a little bit of the seasonal beauty we are lucky enough to experience up here year-round. A great reminder that any time of year is a great time to be in the North Cascades!

Look forward to more Naturalist Notes from our Staff and Graduate Students!


Meet the Graduate Students! Class of 2020, part 2

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This is part 2 of our Cohort 18 Graduate Student Introductions. You can also click to view part 1 and part 3.

After two months in the field, learning, getting to know each other, and taking many 90s band photos, the new graduate students from the Graduate M.Ed. Program‘s 18th Cohort have finally settled into their Residency in the North Cascades! Each member of our cohort will bring their unique backgrounds, experiences, and personalities to the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center as they continue to learn and engage with our new home. In my work study position as blog post writer and editor, I’ve been tasked with continuing the tradition of allowing all of these weird, wild and wonderful individuals to introduce themselves.

Below is part two of a three-part series, sharing with you a brief look at who we are, why we’re here, and anything else we think you should know about us. If you work or play around the  learning center, you are likely to run into us, so take a few minutes to get to know us here!

Christine Sanderson:

Christine excited to get on the water near the Salish Sea. Photo by Matt Ferrell

After graduating from college in my home state of Wisconsin, I moved to Guatemala to work for an international non-profit. I had the opportunity to lead and manage educational backpacking programs for young adults. In my three years of work there, I gained copious amounts of hands-on experience in experiential education and non-profit leadership, as well as a serious addiction to Guatemalan coffee! After moving back to the U.S last fall, I realized that I wanted more formal training as I continue to follow my passion for creative education. I chose this graduate program because it allows me to pursue a Master of Education while continuing to learn in a setting that challenges the way we think about traditional education.

My first months of learning, working, and playing in the North Cascades have already been filled with so many incredible moments that it’s almost impossible to pick a favorite. Paddling down the Skagit River to the confluence with the Salish Sea certainly ranks near the top. We timed our paddle just right to have lunch with the shorebirds along a sand bar, shrinking by the minute as the tide rolled in. After lunch, there was no shoreline left and the tide was strong enough for us to float up river as we meandered our way to where our ride was waiting about a mile upstream. What a surreal experience!

Nicola Follis:

Nicola holding a Sharp-shinned Hawk on Chelan Ridge. Photo by Dianna Green

Growing up in Bellingham, Washington I had the amazing opportunity to attend Mountain School and the North Cascades Institute with my high school AP biology class. Walking down from the Sourdough Mountain waterfall I marveled at the possibility of pursuing environmental education as a career. The idea kept nagging at me throughout my undergraduate degree, in heavily research-based marine biology. My heart knew my calling even before my brain wanted to let me pursue this love-affair with the Earth and environmental education. Landing a wonderful marine biology instructor job on Catalina Island, California, my stoke for environmental education was kindled. I have so much passion for the Earth that I want to provide experiences in which students can foster their own unique and healthy relationships with place. My desire to grow as an instructor and develop a deeper understanding of human connection to each other and nature brought me back home to Washington to study at the North Cascades Institute.

In the few short months in the North Cascades I have learned about the natural and cultural history of the region. I feel more connected to a place that I have always called home because I have intentionally documented the change in seasons and felt the tide drift my canoe up the Skagit River. Another highlight was watching a black bear munch on Mountain Ash after an early morning start up the switchbacks to glaciated Cascade Pass after a nine-day backpacking trip in the North Cascades.

We are deep in the midst of the Natural History Course and just got back to the westside after ten days in the Methow Valley. I feel tremendous gratitude for the opportunity to release a female sharp-shinned hawk that was being tagged by ornithologists on Chelan Ridge. Feeling my heart beat in my chest and her heart beat in my hand, will continue to remind me of the immeasurable amount of connection that can be fostered if only we can teach ourselves to become aware.

Adam Brayton:

Adam, “American Gothic”, harvesting kale at the Blue House property in Marblemount. Photo by Gina Roberti

I’m Adam, I’m from Santa Cruz, California, and I’ll just begin with some pertinent details about my childhood that everyone should know:

 

  • When I was 9, I was Leif Eriksson for Halloween.
  • I called a “guitar” a “ditar” for longer than was probably appropriate for my age.
  • Childhood Adam would go to sleep very early and wake up at 3 or 4 in the morning to watch Animal Planet programming until I had to get ready for school. John Acorn, the “Nature Nut,” was and is an idol.
  • I was that kid that would trap people underground in my theme park with the computer game, Rollercoaster Tycoon.
  • When I was in the 5th grade I did a science fair project on snails called “Where the Escargot Go,” in which I tested the olfactory preferences of garden snails.
  • I swam competitively, and prefer not to think of the number of times I went up and down a pool lane, and up and down again.

In a more broad scope, I tended toward in-doorsy for a lot of my childhood and adolescence, with the notable exceptions of when I got into riding bicycles, when I ran cross country, and the one camping trip that I refer to as “The Lassen Fiasco.” I consider myself fortunate to have had fantastic high school teachers that engendered in me a lifelong love of learning, a love that eventually led me away from Santa Cruz. It wasn’t until I left for Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington that the outdoors was fully opened for me. I participated in a pre-orientation “Scramble” trip in which we rafted down the Salmon River in Idaho for a week. Each night we camped out on white sand beaches and gazed up at a crisp Milky Way, each day we paddled down a river with Class 3 and 4 rapids. We even saw a bear. On the surface it was a fun trip; unconsciously it changed my life.

I went to Whitman with the intent of studying Rhetoric and Film Studies. But after my roommate Nick told me, “Hey Adam, you should register for Intro to Environmental Studies,” I also studied Environmental Humanities. I led Scrambles of my own just up the road from here at Ross Lake, backpacking and canoeing with incoming first-years. I graduated in 2013, and despite writing two theses I’d say my crowning achievement was being one of eight lucky participants in the annual All-Male Charity Parody Beauty Pageant, Mr. Whitman. I didn’t win, but it was pretty fun I guess.

And so began the five-year journey that has led me here. I was a CrossFit trainer, swim teacher, and winery tasting associate in Walla Walla before I jumped ship and moved to Ireland on a working holiday visa. I travelled primarily by bicycle and took up work washing a lot of dishes. After my year was up I continued riding my bicycle throughout Europe, spending much of the next year touring from the Iberian Peninsula to the Caucasus. When I got back, I was broke and doing temp work with UPS and Goodwill, when one of my best friends from college suggested I look into working with her at The Outdoor School in Texas. And so I did, and thus began a seasonal cycle of working in outdoor education during the school year, adventure tourism in the summer, and UPS in the winter. Along the way I took some time in Guatemala to drastically improve my Spanish and also to volunteer with Quetzaltrekkers, the hiking-oriented fundraising arm of Escuela de la Calle in Xela. After two years of this, I determined that I wanted to improve the academic foundations for all the work and play I’d been engaged in. And so I fell in with this motley crew of M.Ed. students in Cohort 18, back in the Pacific Northwest.

Ali Burdick:

Ali enjoying some Washington sun in the beautiful Methow Valley. Photo by Thumper Ormerod

As someone who was California born, Florida raised, and sunburn prone, I knew I wanted to leave the Sunshine State in search of something completely different. I missed the mountains I saw off in the distance as a kid in Southern California, but I also wanted something new, something green, something slightly chillier. After graduating from FSU with a degree in Early Childhood Education, I decided to pursue another degree that would allow me to shape my teaching pedagogy from a more natural lens. And so, I searched and searched for a program that emphasized both the sciences and education, without cutting either out of the picture. This was much harder than I thought it would be, but after a lot of research, stumbled upon NCI’s residency program, and I was immediately sold. Within about five months time, I applied, accepted my admission, packed up my life in Florida, and convinced a few very important people in my life to follow me. I drove 3,000 miles across the country to get here, all of my possessions stuffed into the back of my car, and my beloved pup Christopher in the passenger seat.

Now that I’m here, I can’t imagine still being in Florida, although a small piece of me still loves that place and, of course, all the people in it. I am constantly mind-blown by the snowy peaks, the changes in season, the wildlife. And swimming in bodies of water without worrying about alligators and snakes that could eat you! Who would’ve thought? My favorite experience in Washington by far has been hiking Heather/Maple Pass. The day was spent botanizing and learning about wildlife with our cohort, and my breath was constantly being taken away. Not only from the elevation, that my lil’ Florida lungs were simply not used to yet, but from the incredible space that I was lucky enough to occupy that day. I may have even cried very happy tears at the peak, from the views alone.

I’m incredibly grateful to be in this program, to be part of this community, and to learn from such an amazing group of peers and educators! I am especially exciting to be able to work as the Land Steward Graduate Assistant this year, and to learn more about food-shed education and sustainable gardening. If you need me, you’ll most likely find me in my brand new overalls, on the riding mower at the Confluence Garden.

That’s all for now! Be sure to check out part 1 and part 3!

The Return of the Fisher: The Reintroduction of a Carnivore in the North Cascades

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What’s fierce, agile, and doesn’t hunt fish? A Fisher! The Fisher (Martes pennanti) is a medium-sized member of the weasel family that despite its name rarely eats fish. These carnivores can be found throughout temperate forests in North America, from the Northwest Territories in Canada down to Oregon. Fishers hunt mainly small to medium-sized mammals and will occasionally eat nuts and berries when they are available. Fishers are one of the few carnivores that can successfully hunt porcupines. In some areas they were even reintroduced to control porcupine populations!

While you many have not have heard of this animal before, they have made local headlines over the past year. After several decades of being absent from the North Cascades, they were finally brought back into this ecosystem last December!

Fishers have a thick coat varies in coloration from brown to gray to ashy black. It helps them survive the tough winters of the temperate zone. Unfortunately, it pays to have a nice coat. In the 19th and 20th centuries, this species’ distribution throughout its range had started to precipitously decline due its soft coat. Its fur was such a hot commodity that it sometimes sold for up to $285 per pelt. Loss of suitable habitat due to logging also contributed to its decline.

In Washington State, fishers historically existed throughout most of Western Washington, Northeastern Washington, and the Blue Mountains of Southeastern Washington. By 1934, however, they were overhunted so much that the Washington Department of Game had to end the fisher trapping season. In 1998, after a status review by the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, fishers were classified as an endangered species. The review found that reintroduction would be the only way to recover the species in Washington.

In 2002 a WDFW assessment found that it was feasible to reintroduce fishers in Washington as there was suitable habitat and prey. The biggest reason for the decline, over-trapping, was no longer a present concern. The assessment concluded that the Olympic Peninsula and Cascade Range had the greatest amount of suitable habitat for fishers. Source populations of fishers in British Columbia and Alberta were deemed suitable for translocation into Washington State.

Male fisher kit in captivity

Biologists began releasing fishers back into Washington, after many years of planning, in 2008 when they released the first fishers into Olympic National Park. Between 2008 and 2010 90 fishers were released into the park with much success.

The next phase of fisher reintroduction in Washington State was to reintroduce Fishers back into the Cascades. The plan was to reintroduce 160 fishers from British Columbia into the Cascade Range with 80 individuals in the South Cascades and 80 individuals in the North Cascades. The hope was to form larger connected population throughout the Cascades. Since 2015, 70 fishers have been released into the South Cascades.

Biologists began releasing fishers in the North Cascades late last year. The first release is occurred near the Visitor’s Center in Newhalem on December with other releases scheduled to take place near the Cascade River Drainage. Pretty soon these housecat sized mustelids will be scurrying out of their transport boxes into the forests, ready to recolonize their former territories. This is exciting news as this reintroduction project is entering its final phase, and fishers are now returning the the North Cascades, and it won’t be long before we will see these stealthy creatures on the hunt for porcupines. Hopefully the restoration of this carnivore can inspire the restoration of other species.

A fisher returns to Mount Rainier National Park: Photo: NPS

For more information about fishers, here are some links!

Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife

Conservation Northwest

Animal Diversity Web





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