The Earth Skills Correspondence Course is a ten block course that leads students through the skills of wilderness survival, in your own bioregion. It emphasizes the mastery of shelter, water, fire, camp skills, plants and trees, cooking, safety & hazards, attitude & philosophy and instructor training. Ricardo Sierra mentors the course through e-mail, this blog and a private Facebook Group, and students are self-guided. The course provides a wealth of skills and a powerful foundation from which to build and grow in any personal or wilderness study direction.
Get more information about this learning tool here: The Earth Skills Correspondence Course

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

My Trip to Minnesota


Last week I traveled to Minnesota to meet with the Minnesota Waldorf School’s Eighth Grade, whose students are coming to Hawk Circle this spring. I met with the students and parents, and stayed for a few days at the home of one of my best friends from my childhood, Richard Elmquist and his family. They have started a community in eastern Wisconsin, with organic gardens, wonderful crafts, an orchard, bakery and dairy farm. It was a great visit and I really enjoyed seeing them all for my short stay.

In addition, I also got a chance to see the Mississippi River as it winds through Minneapolis/St. Paul, and much of the landscape around the city and surrounding countryside. I paid attention very closely, searching for familiar trees, wild resources, animal tracks and the lay of the land.

The ground was covered with a layer of crusty snow, dusted with light frosting of powder and great for tracking. I saw cottontail tracks, weasel, mice, squirrels, a variety of birds, deer, red fox, coyote, skunk and raccoon. There were elms, box elder, (lots!) cottonwoods, burr oaks, red juniper, white cedar, poplar, paper birch, locust, and many viburnums and elderberries too, in various places along the prairie and in the riverbottoms. The plant stalks that I could see above the snow looked to be mullein, velvetleaf, milkweed and dock. There was a nice abundance of dried grasses in places, too, as well as cattails in the wetland areas.

Why was I studying the land so closely?

The short answer is that I always do it, as I was trained by Tom Brown, Jr. in the early part of my intensive studies with him at his school. I was taught to pay attention no matter where I went, just in case.

The other short answer is that I was curious, because I haven’t spent much time there before, and I wanted to be familiar with the terrain in case someone from the mid-west were to want to do the Correspondence Course!

Just in case you are wondering, I think anyone from this area would have an excellent and easy time making shelters, finding food, water, great survival resources for skills and fire-making as well. The land is beautiful, gentle and open, with a big sky and trees that are communities in themselves.

It was a great trip and I learned a lot. On the way out to the airport, I passed a grey owl on the side of the highway, about twenty feet from my car at eye level. He looked like he was hunting, waiting for something to move, and his deep dished face was gorgeous and stunning. I felt it was an incredible gift.

I would be remiss if I didn’t also note the profuse number of red tailed hawks that perched in the treetops, fence posts, lamp posts and power lines. I understand that there are many eagles and osprey in some areas as well, fishing in the lakes and rivers that make up this amazing landscape.

My only regret is that I didn’t get to go ice-fishing. Well, maybe next time!

By the way, a friend of mine has just started a new wilderness skills school in the Minneapolis area, so check it out if you are out there for more local tips, regional expertise, cool places to go and more...

2 comments:

Ew said...

Hey Ricardo!

Thanks for this blog... I really enjoy reading your posts!

I have a question... when visiting a new area, a new land, and you're taking in that land for the first time, doing that initial study - what do you look at first? What are you looking to know first, what do you look at next, etc?

Is there a pattern to how you begin your study of a new place or is it that whatever comes to you first is what comes to you first?

Thanks, Ew

Ricardo Sierra said...

Hey EW!

Thanks for commenting on my blog! To answer your question, the things I look for first are related to survival. Therefore, I always look for shelter materials, cover, the right trees that would provide leaves and debris, or grasses, or whatever, so I could make a shelter if I had need.

The other thing I would 'take in' is anything and everything about the environment, such as wildlife present, available food sources, how aware the people in the area seem to be about nature, any dangers or hazards that might be present, etc.

For example: While I was in the Midwest, I saw a frozen river that had cattails, great riverbottom forest and grasses in abundance, cottonwoods where I could get wood for a fire, and plenty of turkey, deer and rabbit tracks indicating food.

Also, I noted that there were many snowmobile tracks that traveled that flat ice, and it looked like they traveled there day and night. Which would weigh in to my evaluation of the area for a suitable campsite if I needed to stay hidden, or if I was in trouble, for being found quickly.....

Does that help?

I will also say that when I go to a new place, either in Minnesota or just a new area of New York, where we are here, I try to look at the landscape the way the natives would, and try to get a 'feel' for how the land resonates with me. Do I get a good feeling about the place? Would I imagine being able to live there and be happy? Does the land there really feed me in terms of inspiration, etc.?

On the flip side, do I get a creepy feeling? Does it feel depressing, worn out, tired, or foreboding?

Some parts of the Catskill Mountains have a certain "Rip Van Winkle" feeling, sort of an enchantment, if you will, where the land seems to be saying to me "Stay out!" It has nothing to do with natural beauty, or anything like that. It is something else, more ephemeral, yet clear and distinct.

In the Mojave desert, there is an ambivalence to human life in some of the open expanses, where the land seems indifferent to anything I might do or feel. It just feels too big, too old, too broad and expansive for me to connect to it easily. It demands that I work at building a relationship, and learn to love wind and heat.

The soft rolling hills of Cherry Valley, or the Taconic Hills of the Hudson Valley are the opposite. They invite exploration, with all of their little nooks, hollows and shady streams and deep clear pools of water.....

Okay, this is probably way more info than you need to answer the question, but hey, I got on a roll!

Thanks again for writing.