thoughts from the wilderness

Well, I did it. At times it was tough, but I survived our four day trip through the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. It was an absolutely amazing experience. As I type this I am also uploading many of the pictures I took onto facebook, and it makes me smile to see again the places and moments still so fresh in my mind.

I guess I'll start from the beginning. On Sunday night we all drove down to Swan Lake to get our stuff all packed and loaded. I borrowed most of my equipment form the camp. Once we got our packs together, we loaded the canoes onto the trailer. This is actually when I got most of my insect bites from the trip--loading the trailer at dusk without bug spray. Once the trailer was loaded, the guys went back to SuFu for the night, but Heather and I slept at the camp, figuring that it wasn't worth the trouble of driving that much just to sleep in a different borrowed bed.

Monday morning we set out dark and early and picked up the rest of the crew at USF. We drove through Minnesota all day, and I slept for most of it. We had dinner at the Pizza Hut in Ely, MN after spending some time wandering through outfitters and tourist shops. When we pulled out it started raining, and it rained all night while we set up our tents and slept. Some of the guys (Jesse and Sam) got soaked through their tent and never really dried out all week.

Tuesday morning we got on the water. The first stretch of river was full of rocks, so I had quite the time trying to keep track of them so that Jerry and I could steer around them. Yes, my canoe partner was Jerry, the trip leader. It worked out pretty well for me, since he always knew what he was doing. After pretty much coasting down the rivers, we came to Lake Agnes. We didn't like Agnes that day, because the wind was making swells bigger than our canoes. It was a fight to get across, but we made it. Our group was so big we had to claim two different campsites. That night, though, we all made dinner together. It was at this point we discovered that Dan had not packed his mess kit. Luckily, Sam had brought along The Plate and kindly offered to let Dan use it. (So, Dianna, it seems you made a good choice in claiming a plate instead of a Cholula bottle.) We weren't allowed to have a fire, so we sat around the cold fire grate that night to talk. It was at this point that I got one, maybe both, of my spider bites. I know I got the right one that night, because it bled. The weird part is that both bites are in the same spot on each leg: right on the back of the ankle, just above the sock. At least I have a matching set, right? The bad thing was that we couldn't do anything for them until we got back into civilization, so for the remainder of the trip, they kept getting more red and swollen, to the point that they looked rather serious on Friday.

On Wednesday we altered our plans so we wouldn't have to fight the wind and waves so much. We claimed a couple of campsites early on and entered into our day of solitude. My solitude, however, didn't last very long. After a brief rainshower, I slipped on some wet rocks and scraped up my elbow and knee. Yes, the same elbow and knee that had just healed from my bike accident. I guess I'm just accident prone or something. Anyway, I came back to camp to get myself patched up, but I couldn't find the first aid kit. I woke up both Jerry and Paul and eventually found it and put myself back together. After the guys went back to their napping, Heather turned up and we spent the rest of our solitude together. I realize that kind of defeats the purpose of solitude, but I think it was good for us girls to spend some quality time together while the guys were all either away or asleep. That evening Jerry led us girls up Warrior Hill, which is on Canadian soil. Since it had rained earlier in the evening, it was a wet slippery mess getting to the top, but worth it for the view. I rode garbage on the way back, getting my pants and shoes thoroughly wet. Oh well.

Thursday was interesting. The guys all left at 6:00 in the morning to see some waterfalls, but Heather and I went back to bed and slept until they got back around 10:00. Then, as we were getting our things packed up, it started to rain. It rained the whole time we were traveling, and then some. I was glad to have the canoe over my head during the portages, because it stopped the rain from falling on me. I was wearing a full rain suit anyway, but it still felt nice to not be rained on for a bit. What with being tired and cold and wet, I wasn't in the best of moods that morning. But for some reason, after we beached our canoe and started making camp (back on the other side of Agnes), I was having fun. The rain was still falling, I was still cold and my shoes were still wet, but I was suddenly in a much better mood. I wandered around the campsite, exploring, and even found my way to the other camp, where our groupmates had all hidden themselves away inside their tents. All things considered, I think I had more solitude on Thursday than when I was supposed to. It worked out alright though. It did eventually stop raining, so Jerry decided we should build a fire so that we didn't all freeze. Technically we weren't supposed to have a fire at all--there is a burn ban in effect for the whole BWCA--but we decided it was an emergency. We even dried some of our clothes over our illegal fire, besides just warming ourselves, so I think it was worth the risk.

On Friday my group was a little slow to get moving. After a short devotional time we set out to paddle our way back upstream the way we had come. I'll just tell you: those rivers feel a lot longer when you're going upstream. At any rate, we eventually made it out and drove back in to Ely for showers and a late lunch. Driving all day, we were back in SuFu by 2:00 am Saturday morning, completely exhausted, both physically and mentally. But it was definitely worth it.

Ask me in person sometime, and you'll get a lot more stories than I've included here. But I will share one more thing before I sign off for the day. I think the most important thing I realized on this trip was the importance of experiencing God with childlike joy and wonder. I felt his love and playfulness as I paddled my feet in the water and tromped through the woods in my oversized rainsuit. I saw his creativity in the mushrooms growing on a log and the arrangement of the islands in the bay. Standing on top of Warrior Hill and looking out over miles of nothing but water, trees and rocks, I think I start to understand the emotion in Genesis when "God saw all that he had made, and it was very good." I think that sense of wonder is something that we too easily lose. In a place like the Boundary Waters, it is relatively easy to marvel at the wonder of God, but we should not only marvel in such a particular time and place. Every day is full of the glory of God, and we should not overlook his presence. To live every day in wonder at God's magnificent works would be an amazing gift.

-Kim

General Update

Well, I've been unable to post for a while, so before I jump into the big thoughts/experiences from my week in the wilderness, I thought I should do a separate post just to catch you all up on the rest of what's been going on.

I survived finals week in fairly good shape, managing to keep my GPA right where I like it. I was actually pleasantly surprised with a couple grades, since I took a bit of a risk with one of my finals. Apparently that worked out.

I have a job for the summer now. I'll be working for the SuFu parks department, getting more hours at higher pay than I would have returning to the salad bar. Woot! I'm looking forward to spending a lot more time outside this summer, as well as making enough money to pay for a trip next January. I'll also be doing a bit of work for the USF art department, scanning slides. So I'll certainly be busy once I get started on those two jobs next week.

Last week I was in the Boundary Waters on a wilderness trip that was absolutely amazing. The details of said trip will be discussed in a future post.

This week I'm at home in preparation for my brother's wedding this coming Friday. I'm uber-excited for him.

And that should wrap up my general overview. A more involved and thoughtful post should follow soon.

-Kim

a writer's life for me

This is what Donald Miller, in Blue Like Jazz, has to say about my chosen career:

Writers don't make any money at all. We make about a dollar. It it terrible. But then again, we don't work either. We sit around in our underwear until noon and then go downstairs and make coffee, fry some eggs, read the paper, read part of a book, smell the book, wonder if perhaps we ourselves whould work on our book, smell the book again, throw the book across the room because we are quite jealous that any other person wrote a book, feel terribly guilty about throwing the other schmuck's book across the room because we secretly wonder if God in heaven noticed our evil jealousy, or worse, our laziness. We then lie across the couch facedown and mumble to God to forgive us because we are secretly afraid He is going to dry up all our words because we envied another man's stupid words. And for this, as I said before, we are paid a dollar. We are worth so much more.

And later:

When you are a writer you feel lazy even when you're working. Who gets paid to sit around in a coffee shop all day and type into a computer? But I did work, I kept telling myself. I showed up at Palio every day, and in the evenings I would go to Common Ground. I worked. I wrote. I drove myself crazy writing.
The thing is, at the time, I was writing without a contract. So I wasn't really writing for money, I was writing in hopes of money. And when you are writing without a contract, you feel as though everything you say is completely worthless (technically it is, until you get a contract).

So that's what the famous Donald Miller has to say. These exerpts are from a chapter of reflections on money, hence the monetary bent. But I think it's worth examining anyway, especially in light of my present situation of joblessness.

In one sense, I do have a job right now, several if you'll accept my deffinitions. I work in the writing center, which is a real job because I put in regular hours and make real money. You could call my schoolwork my full time job, since taking a certain number of credit hours and keeping my GPA up ensures that I keep my scholarships, and since the federal government has decided to view these scholarships as income and tax them, I'll consider the work I do to keep them my job. I don't think I'll get any arguments on these, but then there is my writing. I've never been paid for a piece of writing before in my life, but that is the ultimate goal of my current project (even calling it that feels like a lie, I haven't worked on my edits nearly all semester). I mean, that's what all writers hope for--getting published and getting paid. And as Don points out, as an unknown with an incomplete manuscript, hope is all I've got. I guess it's a good thing I've got that in good supply. From time to time I get distracted by the ammount of work left undone, but then I remind myself that those things that are getting in the way of my writing (namely, schoolwork and commitments to music groups on campus) are worthwhile as well, most of the time.

To make this post fit as an entry in my work portfolio for Kirby, I'd like to take issue with Don's description of the writing life in the first quote. When I took January off to finish my book, I did almost none of the things Don lists. I didn't sleep in, I didn't do much reading (I knew that would just be a distraction), and I didn't do my writing in coffeeshops (that, too, would be a distraction since I don't drink coffee and tend to people-watch when in public). Does this mean I fail at the writing life? I don't think so. Not all writers work the same way, and I would argue that Don is more likely to be the exception. Every time I hear about how great writers work, they have some sort of patented formula or schedule that allows them to be amazingly productive. It usually involves having no other job. From this fact I have drawn the conclusion that good writing comes from unemployment. I say this in jest, of course, but it's at least partially true. The best writing comes without distractions, and a day job is just one big distraction to a creative mind. So even though I'm theoretically working toward a career in library work (or publishing, or copy editing, or anything involving words--I'm becoming less picky and more indecisive lately), my ultimate goal is to be unemployed. I would be thrilled if someday I could leave the world of day jobs and make my living with the words I write. Paradoxically, I can't imagine being that successful as a writer if I'm also busy with another job, so I'm not sure if the point of reasonable unemployment can ever be reached. I'll let you know when I get there.

Here is how I imagine an ideal day in my future life as a professional writer:

I will wake up fairly early and go for a bike ride or walk before breakfast. After breakfast I will sit down at my computer and type 2000 words or so of new text on my current project (the greats only write 2000 words a day, and they do it in only 1 or 2 hours. amazing). I will spend the afternoon walking in the park or a mall, anywhere I can watch people, taking notes in a moleskiene notebook of things I want to use in later books. Before dinner I'll spend an hour reading, either a classic or somrthing brand new, to keep up with my writer friends and the business in general. After dinner it's back to work, making edits in existing pages of work. In the summer I'll do this work on the back porch, and in winter I'll curl up in front of the fireplace with my pages and marking pen.

I suppose on some days I'll meet with my agent or publishers about the next book coming out, but I'm hoping those days will be rare, leaving me more time to work. I'm hoping not to be so popular as to necessitate book signings and appearances. I don't like talking to strangers or public speaking--that's why I write instead. Maybe I can write a message and have Kirby or someone deliver it for me, and I'll just sit in the back and smile. Or maybe it wouldn't be so bad, since most of my fans would be children.

I think the other part of the writing life would be traveling and experiencing as many different things as possible so that I never run out of things to write about. I'm doing some of that already, going all over the country with high school groups and to Ireland last year with the choir. Even next week's Boundary Waters excursion should be able to help me with a future book that I've decided will involve a good deal of travel on rivers. As for next year, I suddenly find myself facing two very appealing options: travel continental Europe with the choir or go sailing in the British Virgin Islands. We had a meeting today about the sailing trip, and right now that's the way I'm leaning. I'd learn to sail, which will come in very handy when I write my book involving pirates and sea travel, and I'd get to spend January somewhere warm. Plus, it counts as an English elective, as we'll be exploring the importance of the sea in literature (including pirate lore!). In short, I'm currently in love with the idea. Now if I could just find a summer job to pay for it...

-Kim

ride of my life

So it's been an interesting couple of weeks. Since I last blogged I've had my roommate come back from England, crashed my bike and mostly healed from it, watched the Kentucky Derby, played in an end of the year recital, finished two term papers, been rejected from two possible jobs, turned in two other job applications, recieved an award on stage, and got a ride on a motorcycle for the first time in my life.

That last one might be a little surprising, since I crashed my own little bike not quite two weeks ago and still have the marks and a couple of sore spots. But I've always wanted to ride on a motorcycle. Not drive on, mind you, just ride one with an experienced driver at the controls. So when Jim was giving rides to whoever wanted, I jumped at the chance. Yes, mother, I wore a helmet--one of those fully enclosed ones with a visor that makes it look like you could be on your way to Mars. And it was so much fun! A little unnerving at first, but then I got used to the idea of leaning into the curves even though my brain was screaming at me to lean the other way lest the machine tip over (even though it's the other way around). When we rode past Canaries stadium there were fireworks going off. I guess it was their first game of the season or something special like that. I counted seven other motorcycles on the road that night, and that was only on the route we took. Now I know why they're always so exited to get they're bikes out when the weather gets warmer--the speed is intoxicating. I still don't think I want to ever drive a bike myself, but I definitely want to ride one again. Jim took his home this weekend, so I guess I won't get another ride for a long time. It's funny, I never would have pegged him as a motorcycle guy, he's just so quiet. But then, quiet people tend to be full of surprises. I know there will be plenty of people surprised I even went on this ride.

I wonder what I'll learn about my friends and classmates two weeks from now in the Boundary Waters? I've never been there or on any real wilderness experience before, and I'm absolutely stoked to do it. I've been looking over the list of supplies, and it looks like I need to pick up a few things before we head out, which means I really ought to be getting them this weekend. For the longest time it's felt like the trip far off and rather nebulous, but now it's in just a matter of days. Weird. I hope I'm ready for it by the time we leave.

Anyway, finals are next week. At the moment I'm finding it hard to concentrate on preparing for my essay tests. I'm far too distracted by the fact that I still don't have a summer job lined up, hence the blogging rather than studying. I suppose though, that I ought to wrap this up and work on my portfolio or something and prove that I deserve the English award I got the other night. Or I could practice the music I'll be playing at my brother's wedding. I think that's a good compromise.

-Kim

Quick and Dirty Career Test

Okay, so I found this silly test online. I thought it would be funny to compare their answers with what I already think about myself and careers I would enjoy, so I took it. Oddly enough, my top choices are indeed on their list. Of course, so are a lot of other things that I would never ever want to do. But then, these things have to be terribly general, otherwise we'd realize they're just as fake as fortune cookies. Still, with a name like "Quick and Dirty Career Test", how could I not try it in the name of research for Kirby's class? And when they say quick, they mean it. It took me maybe ten seconds to answer their four questions. Anyway, here are my resultsl, which look a little different from the strengths finder.


***Your Career Personality: Idealistic, Service-Oriented, and Future-Oriented***


Your Ideal Careers:

Alternative health practitioner
Architect
Environmental lawyer
Librarian
Magazine editor
Museum curator
Novelist
Nutritionist
Photo journalist
Playwright


The Quick and Dirty Career Test
http://www.blogthings.com/quickanddirtycareertest/


Now if only this list came complete with summer job listings in the Sioux Falls area, I would be all set to go...

-Kim