The Isle Royale Experience, Part 2

Hey Hey!

I hope you found my previous post about Isle Royale informative. Here is the next installment. Enjoy the pictures!

This is a view of the dock in Todd Harbor. I took it sometime after dinner and I was feeling in a reflective mood. Todd Harbor was where the team worked for 10 straight days. At the beginning of each of our work weeks, our project sponsor would drop off us at this dock. We would unload our belongs-which was a heck of a lot. Then we would have to walk up a hill to our campsite. This particular view is from the trail that we took to and from work each day. It was always the first sign of camp, or home, for me each day as I returned from a one-way hike of 5-6 miles. Because I did not get to see other parts of the island, this was probably one of the views that I enjoyed the most. Seeing my teammate out on the dock by herself, one can just get a sense of the magnitude and depth of the island where I lived for 6 weeks. Nature literally engulfed me. Also, it was during times of days like the one above (about 8:00 pm) where I felt most reflective. I had just finished a meal and was feeling especially thankful that I got the opportunity to fill myself up with calories. Moreover, I was thankful for the opportunity to be in such an environment, despite the fact that it was tough.

This is a sunset from the rocks behind our campsite. Now these rocks had so many different functions for the team during our time on the island. It’s where some of the girls would wash their hair and freshen up after work. It’s where I iced my foot after my Achilles tendon started swelling up due to the steel-toe boots I was wearing. It’s where the team went as individuals to just relish and soak up the environment. This was a particularly calm day. There were a few days where the waves were so darn high, crashing into the rocks. But when it was calm, the tranquility was so darn nice. I found myself just staring out into the water even when the sun went down and the mosquitoes ate at me.

Off in the distance, past the more defined couple of islands, notice the sort of hazy land masses. Those land masses are actually Canada, Thunder Bay to be exact. I really enjoyed how on a clear day you could even notice the ridges. Pretty sweet!

This is a shot I took of my guy teammates fishing off of the mini waterfalls across the harbor. From what we heard from our project sponsor, this was a great fishing spot that attracted a lot of trout. Not really an avid fisherman myself, I liked the waterfalls because it was just so interesting that mini waterfalls existed on an island. Over the whole six weeks, my teammates had two fish on hook. But no fish were ever caught. Based on that experience, I wouldn’t call this a good fishing spot. It turned out that the best way to fish on Lake Superior is to take a boat out so that you could cast in deeper water. The water near the shore was just too shallow.

At the time of this picture, I was sitting on a rock sharpening a stick with a pocket knife I borrowed from Alex, the guy on the farthest left. So while all of the guys had experience fishing, the only experience I had was a couple of casts in Sherman Lake and Pawnee City. Nothing extensive. But I still bought a Michigan fishing license the day before we left just in case I did end up fishing. I was sharpening the stick because I had the fantasy that I would be able to spear a fish. But I learned that it was most likely illegal. So over the 6 weeks, I didn’t end up coming up with my own spears. However, I did get to fish a couple times while on the island with a real fishing rod.

I'm Back

Hey folks!
I'm currently serving in Minot, North Dakota doing disaster clean-up for houses that were flooded about 2 months ago. We are going through a process called "mucking-and-gutting." Sounds clean, doesn't it? I'll explain all about it later. For now, I want to catch up on my blogposts and give ya'll some stuff about my last project in Isle Royale National Park. I wasn't able to let you all know what I was doing for about a month--no internet connection. So over the next few days, I'll back track and do a reflection on my experience. Enjoy!

The Ranger III is the ferry of the National Park Service that transports park-goers from Houghton, Michigan. The ferry ride takes about 6 hours. This was the Ranger III on the morning my team and I were heading to Isle Royale.

It was a mix of relief and excitement and curiosity as I stood there looking at the ferry. Relief because, after almost 4 weeks of waiting, we were going to be on our way for our next project.  The journey getting to Houghton had been long, almost 10 hours.  But we made it safely and we had all of our stuff. One thing in Americorps NCCC that will cause you stress before each project is packing and trying to fit everything you need into the red firefighting bag we are all issued. So I felt relief knowing that I was pretty sure I had everything I needed. Excitement because I was going to be camping for the next 6 weeks. I had never gone camping in a tent before so I was wondering how I was going to react. I wanted to see if I could survive out in the wilderness. I was pretty confident going into the project that I would be able to survive, although some of my other teammates were also curious to see how I would respond because I tend to express my shock and awe about even the smallest things really well. Curiosity, because despite my confidence, who knows what could happen to me out on the island. What if I do get freaked out by snakes and going to the bathroom next to a tree stump.

Surprisingly, the whole ferry ride was foggy. And we couldn’t see the island until we were almost at our destination place.  This picture was probably taken about 4.5 hours into the ferry ride. The fog added to the mysteriousness of the island that we would be spending a huge chunk of our time at.  It reminded me of the scene in Pandora when they fly to the floating mountains. One minute we’re just floating along and then out of nowhere, as if appearing from the mist, the island started to appear.

Once we completed our 6 hour ferry ride, we had a half hour stop over at Mott Island, the Park headquarters, where we met our site supervisor and gathered all of the materials we would need for the upcoming 10-day workweek including canteens, day packs, back packs, water filter, camp stoves, etc. Then we began the next leg of our journey and spent an hour and a half on the Beaver, a mid-size National Park Service boat.  Haha. I felt tough standing for most of the boat ride. I was cold and it started to drizzle a bit. But all I had was a bandana, long-sleeve shirt, and a life vest. I felt like I was going into battle. I could see the face of inexperience on me. I had no idea what I was getting into. I didn’t for-see craving certain foods, waking up at 5:45 in the morning everyday, or hiking 6-8 miles a day.

This is the tent that I ended up staying for the first 10-day workweek. It was a 1-person tent by Eureka! A funny thing is Alex and I thought that this was a 2-person tent and we were set to share this tent. It looked like it would be a little cramped. Thankfully, I got to have this tent to myself. Also, the first night we arrived the campsite we had wanted, campsite 1, was already taken and so we had to move to campsite 3. The campers left the next day and we were able to move in.

Those first few nights in my own tent were pretty sweet, although I always woke up in the morning feeling disoriented. But, it was pretty comfortable.

written earlier today 7.11

It is now about 6:30 in the morning.  Since 5:30 today, everyone was waiting it out in the basement and tunnels under the Iowa campus.  At 5:30, I was woken up by a really loud wind.  I glanced through the window blinds to see what seemed like lightning flashing outside.  But it wasn’t like the lightning in Nebraska.  It looked like something out of a Harry Potter movie.  You look outside it was just a white light.  My roommate and I woke up at the same time.  I didn’t think anything of it.  I thought it was just a strange windstorm of some sort and we would be safe.  A few minutes after my roommate mentioned something about a tornado, the warning signals for the building went off informing us to head to the tunnels. 

We were allowed to go back to our rooms.  Thankfully, nothing is damaged.  As we were walking up the stairs, there are just branches upon branches from trees lying outside.  It looks like branches all over—like you’re in a forest or something.  From my bedroom window, I can see the main building of the campus.  It’s where the Braille students stay and where all of the school staff work out of.  The roof looks to be torn clear off, at least from my side of the building.  I just feel really fortunate right not.  Some people have damage in their rooms like water dripping onto beds.  Another residential hall is flooded in “poop” water supposedly.  That sucks.  I’m very very fortunate.

below is a report from a weather website.  the description was 100% accurate.

PUBLIC INFORMATION STATEMENT
NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE QUAD CITIES IA IL
514 PM CDT MON JUL 11 2011
…PRELIMINARY STORM SURVEY RESULTS FOR BENTON COUNTY INCLUDING THE TOWNS OF GARRISON AND VINTON…
LOCATION: GARRISON IOWA…430 AM CDT ON JULY 11 2011.
ESTIMATED WIND SPEEDS: STRAIGHT LINE WINDS OF 110 TO 130 MPH.
DAMAGE:
* WIDESPREAD DAMAGE TO STRUCTURES INCLUDING MANY ROOFS PARTIALLY OR FULLY REMOVED. SOME BUILDINGS HAD COLLAPSED WALLS.
* NEARLY EVERY TREE SIGNIFICANTLY DAMAGED OR SNAPPED OFF IN
TOWN.
* WIDESPREAD POWER OUTAGES.
LOCATION: VINTON IOWA…435 AM CDT JULY 11 2011
ESTIMATED WIND SPEEDS: STRAIGHT LINE WINDS IN EXCESS OF 110 MPH.
DAMAGE:
* NUMEROUS STRUCTURES SUFFERED MINOR TO MODERATE DAMAGE.
* MOST TREES SIGNIFICANTLY DAMAGED OR SNAPPED OFF.
* SIGNIFICANT POWER OUTAGES.
STORM SURVEYS ARE ONGOING. FURTHER INFORMATION WILL BE PROVIDED IN THE NEAR FUTURE.

written a couple of days before i left pawnee city

For some reason, sometimes my heart aches when I think about the fact that I am leaving Pawnee City.  It is only a couple of days before I head back home for 10 days.  And I’m excited to go home and see my family and friends.  But at the same time, I’ve grown attached to some places.  The main place I’ve grown attached to is the historical society, understandably since it’s where we’ve been doing all of our work.  I’ve probably attached myself to the fact that I got a chance to do physical work every single day for 6 straight weeks.  While the work became mundane and redundant at times, it’s what I expected out of NCCC.  I’m proud of myself for powering through and getting past the boring days to do the best job I could.  That’s what this whole experience is about—in my eyes.  Through all of the physical labor, you need to see that you’re performing community service for one person, a few people, or a whole community who wants your help.  I’m not saying that I’ve thought about the service I was performing every day.  More often than not, what was on my mind was “I got to get these weeds cut down or I got to scrape off as much bad paint as I could.” Really, I’m not sure if I ever consciously went into each work day thinking that I was really helping out a community.  The main thing I thought about was that Yvonne, our site supervisor, sent in an application to get an NCCC team obviously because she had the need for us.  The historical society does not have a lot of funds to maintain the buildings.  Therefore, instead of complaining about how boring the work is, I needed to do my work with pride.  It’s like in school when your parents and teachers tell you to signature your work by making sure it is 100% quality.  This ain’t school work but it’s work that is just as important.  Like I said in my first post about Pawnee City, our site supervisor believes in the quality of our work.  You got to do a good job.  Not just out of self-respect but for the people who hired you.

This past weekend, my team and I presented Yvonne with flowers and a card at the Methodist Church in front of the congregation.  It was touching seeing the tears come to her eyes.  And today, she surprised all of us by presenting us with a plaque with our names on it.  It will hang up in the main office for everyone who comes after to know that we were there.  It brought tears to her eyes also.  It’s really heart felt just writing about it.  I think I’m so reluctant to leave, not only because I left a mark here with my work, but because I’ve tried to integrate myself into the community for 6 weeks.  And I’ve met a great bunch of people.  And now, I’m just up and leaving, probably never to see all those smiling faces again.  That’s what’s tough.  Honestly, while I really enjoyed Sherman Lake and the staff who were there, I’ll be leaving Pawnee City with the same, if not heavier, heart.  Two totally different experiences, but equally as rewarding.  Much love to all those I met!

As for my next project.....I hope to leave the island with the same feelings.  But who knows.  It should all work itself out.  After my 10 day break, I will be heading to Isle Royale, an island off of Lake Superior in Michigan.  It is 15 minutes from the Canadian border.  My team and I will be on the island for 6 weeks, working 10 days at a time.  We are going to beautify trails BABY!!!  I’m so looking forward to it.  We will be camping for those 10 days with no access to running water.  It will be an adventure.  Not to mention, we will be living on an island that has the longest-running predator-prey experiment between moose and wolves.  Moose and wolves.  Need I say more?  Sweet.  While I’ve never gone camping before, I am so up for this experience.  I definitely need it.  Whoot whoot!  Can’t wait! (Wow, I just changed emotions from sad to happy).  That’s enough about Isle Royale for now.

I got one more night to spend in Pawnee City. And I got to soak it in.

-David

 Above: Council Bluffs

Above: The trailer neighborhood is behind these apartments. You can see the train passing near the roof tops.

Disaster Work

Yesterday, I got back to Pawnee City around 9:30 pm.  We came back from doing some disaster relief work.  We spent Saturday and Sunday canvassing blocks of houses in Council Bluffs, Iowa, which is near the border between Iowa and Nebraska.

By canvassing, I mean that we went from house to house, informing folks about the developing flood situation along the Missouri River.  Here was my basic spiel:

            Hi, my name is David and I’m with the Americorps NCCC. I’m volunteering today with the Iowa Department of Human Services. We’ve been canvassing this whole block, letting folks know about the developing flood situation. Right now, we are on a Level 1, which means that no formal evacuation order has been issued. Right now it’s about self-evacuation, if you choose to, and preparing in advance in case anything worse happens. Make sure to watch the news, read the paper, listen to the radio for any updates. You can also call the 800 number on the back of this white sheet for more up-to-date information  about the floods. Thanks for your time.

This was my first taste of disaster work.  It was pretty tiring waling many flocks for 4-5 straight hours.  But it was also important work that needed to be done.  The emergency director spoke to the importance of the work when she was “training” us before we set out on our houses.  Apparently, in Council Bluffs, 50% of the residents don’t subscribe to a newspaper.  And about the same a mount didn’t even know a flood was occurring—actually after walking the community and talking to folks, I think everyone was pretty much aware of what was going on.  Nonetheless, people had to know.  The director spoke about us not trying to worry people.  It would make the situation a whole lot worse if people were panicking.  It would probably just be chaos.  I thought it was great that a bunch of Americorps volunteers were going door to door.  We are all part of the Council Bluffs community (at least for a day) and it’s the community members that should be informing each other and addressing any concerns.

There were probably a few scenarios that occurred repeatedly as I spoke to different people:

            There was the couple that said, “They (my partner and I) aren’t going to tell us anything that don’t want us to know.” They were referring to how we said, “we don’t know that info,” when they would ask more detailed questions like “are your sure we’re on Level 1” and “what are the corps engineers really doing.” I truly didn’t know that info.  But at the same time, the director said that we should say to call the 800 number because we didn’t want to hand out any wrong info or start any rumors.  To the couple, I probably represented all that is wrong with government bureaucracy.  I was probably hiding the truth about how bad the situation could really get.  I did indeed hate telling folks to call the 800 number for more info.  It would’ve been nice to discuss with them what the papers were saying and to try to determine the “truth” so to speak.  Afterall, isn’t that what community members, citizens should be doing?  However, I also needed to do my job.  And I didn’t want to hand out info that was wrong and give people the wrong perception of things.  And I do see the importance of trying not to stir up people’s nerves.

            There was one guy who told me that he was almost finished paying the mortgage on his house but that the insurance he bought was no good.  (I think he might be referring to how FEMA is not allowing any flood insurance bought after May 1 to apply for this current flooding along the Missouri).  When he told me this, all I could say was that “I’m sorry to hear that.” While I was the bearer of bad news, he knew I was just doing my job.  We ended our conversation by him saying that he was hoping for the best.

            Another woman thought I was giving her an order to evacuate—it didn’t help that some of the forms we were handing out were pink.  But I reassured her that no formal evacuation order had been issued.  At this news, she was relieved and said I almost brought her to tears when I was at the door.  She was probably in her later 30s but she also looked like she might have a disability.  So it would’ve been hard for her to just pack up all of her stuff and move.

            Then there were a few folks who told me that the river wouldn’t go over and that the levees would hold.  I’m not quite sure what was going through these people’s minds.  Based on reading the papers and seeing the images, it seemed imminent that flooding was going to occur.  Couldn’t they, even just in case, pack some of their valuables and prepare just a little bit?  Instead, they seemed stubborn, thinking that nothing was going to happen. 

Prior to going out into the neighborhood, the emergency director made it known that the area was a lower income area.  There were a lot of elderly folks and younger adults.  Walking through the community, it seemed more of a working class community.  In fact, some streets reminded me of Richmond, CA.  But other streets reminded me of Montebello, CA—nice, well-kept one-story houses.  There was one part of Council Bluffs, though, that you could visibly tell was poorer—the trailer houses right next to the railroad tracks.  It was also the neighborhood where I saw a few people of color—a couple of Latino men and a couple of API folks.  Still, this area was still mainly white.  As I was walking these streets, I thought what would happen if the water reached these folks.  Supposedly according to the map, they were near a “ravine,” which also meant they were the nearest to the river.  If that is true, it is inevitable that they would lose their homes.  I’m not sure if it would actually happen.  But it would totally suck if they lost the few possessions that they own.

Canvassing is a tiring job.  By the time you’re done hitting your houses, your legs and feet are tired and your voice may be alittle bit weaker.  But I think the more chances I get to do it, the more I’ll get used to it.  And if that’s what it takes to help folks prepare for a disaster or emergency, I’m all for it.  My first taste of disaster work was pretty good.  I’d like to try canvassing again.  Who knows, we might even be called to do it again considering that the Missouri River levels keep on rising. 

As a last thought, as I was canvassing, I thought about what would be the most effective way for people to know and prepare for a disaster.  Canvassing probably isn’t the most efficient or quickest way to inform people.  It would help if everyone watched the same news channel and got the same up-to-date information.  But that isn’t really a reality.  So canvassing is probably one of the better ways.  Then, I would hope that all canvassing should happen in a timely manner to give people enough time to do what they got to do to ensure their well-being.

 Peace,

David