By Cliff Stockton

"It is easier to resist at the beginning than at the end."
-LEONARDO DA VINCI

Parents often ask me: What is the benefit of taking my child into the wilderness? What is different about being out "there" in the woods that makes them more willing to look at their own issues? Wouldn't it be safer to have them closer to civilization? What about access to hospitals? Wouldn't it be easier for therapists to get to them if they are having an emotional crisis? Etc.

My experience is that the perceived remoteness and isolation of a wilderness program creates an atmosphere where students are more willing to cooperate; more readily participate in team building and less likely to act out in destructive fashion. It is, in short, more effective, and safer. Yes safer.

It might seem like a paradox, but my experience is that the further out we are, the less they act out, the more cautious they are with their movements and make far fewer attempts to elope from the program.

As a wilderness leader in Montana, Idaho and Alaska, I learned long ago that the best way to ride out the difficult beginnings of a journey with a group of young people is to get them out of sight and sound of civilization as quickly as possible. Most of the students I worked with were "reluctant" participants. Many were escorted there by professional transport companies, others were brought by their parents, and some were even surprised about what type of program they were "enrolled" in. There were some who looked forward to the experience, but not many. Camping with them near a road, in sight of the lights of civilization actually increased their anxiety. Those sights were a constant reminder of friends they missed and activities they were missing out on. It also feeds the idea that they can get out of doing the work they are being asked to do and nurtures the notion that they can "get out".

Way back in-the-day, when I first began taking trips with kids in a wilderness program, we actually started in the middle of the night, driving a dizzying, circuitous route to the trailhead, and then hiked until the morning. So, when they woke on their first day, there were no signs of civilization, no sights, no road, no lights, no buildings nothing but wilderness. The purpose was to create a sense of isolation, reinforcing the concept of interdependence on team members, even if they didn't know them. I have since discovered that you don't have to go to that kind of extreme to achieve those goals, just being out of sight and sound is generally enough.

But, when faced with a difficult student or rough group dynamics my first inclination is to get them as far out as I possibly can and that has always worked for me. Groups settle down, cooperation increases, even the most reluctant participant sees the benefit of cooperating, even if just for a while to make their life easier, and to be responsive to the needs of other members of their group.

It is not only important in the beginning, but throughout the trip to avoid contact with civilization. For Example up in Alaska I was paddling with a group of boys off a remote island. They had been in the program for 3 weeks at that point and nearing the halfway point of the trip. Soon they would be paddling home. The boys had settled in well and most were beginning to enjoy the journey and looking forward to the turnaround when they would begin the trip back home. We had very little contact with civilization up to that point and had only seen a couple of boats, at a distance. When we came around a bend there was a mining camp, making mechanical noises and that was the topic for the next several days among the boys. Could they get there?
Would the miners give them a ride back to town? Did they have cigarettes?

They were reluctant to perform chores that they had been doing without complaint up to that point, became resistant to participation in group activities, some were openly defiant. After a couple of days, without the sight and sounds of civilization, things again calmed down and they were able to focus on their own issues again. All that chaos from the mere sight of a mine at a remote location halfway through the program.

This is not a new concept. Legend has it that when Cortés landed in Mexico he burned his ships to motivate his men. Not entirely accurate, Cortes was not stupid; he merely incapacitated his ships by scuttling them so his mutinous crew couldn't take them. Even so it worked. Cortés men were very motivated. He really knew how to start a trip.

I understand that parents with limited camping experience could struggle with this concept. Those with backcountry experience know it, because they have experienced it personally. It is like trying to describe a strawberry to someone, when the best explanation is just eating one. While the program you are looking at is probably not as isolated as I was up in Alaska I would still be asking them how to they manage to keep their groups out of sight and sound of civilization, but close enough to provide safety and other resources to them?

At the beginning of every journey there is this moment of doubt. Both for you and your child. Will I be able to do this? Will they be able to do this?

What will it mean about me that I sent my child to a wilderness program?

Doubt is the consistent emotion. After the beginning you learn. You learn that you can cope. You learn that your child can cope. And you learn that you can trust, and that they can succeed. The doubts diminish, and hope begins to rise.

"Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop."
~LEWIS CARROLL, Alice in Wonderland

Cliff Stockton has extensive experience working in wilderness based therapy in many different capacities. For more information, visit www.cliffstockton.com, or contact him at cliff@cliffstockton.com or 208-308-3166.