Wandering and Wondering

“How many lives did we save today?” My colleagues and I joke about this as we volunteer positions at Rocky Mountain National Park. In my mind I am not inquiring about just human life but animal life as I think about the activities park service staff and volunteers do to make the touristic experiences of people and the everyday lives of animals in the park enjoyable and safe!

Every year, dozens of visitors are rescued from Rocky Mountain National Park. Some people experience injuries while others get lost. People often underestimate the perils of a mountainous area. Professionals respond to calls to rescue visitors in unsafe conditions. These Search and Rescue (SAR) missions can be dangerous for the visitor and the SAR response team. Preventive Search and Rescue (PSAR) aims to reduce SAR missions through preparation, education, and information.

I consider myself part of the PSAR team in Rocky. The information we provide makes our wondrous park the safest it can be. The efforts vary greatly. It may be discussions at a trailhead where we warn visitors of trail hazards or impending weather conditions. It also may be through educational programs provided such as campfire programs or through the Junior Ranger program. I hope the advice we give when people call the Information Office may be useful in them making smart decisions about how they will navigate the park.

This information, however, becomes incumbent upon the visitor to consider the suggestions. Preparation for a visit to the park or any other outdoor area is essential. Knowing one’s limitations and the challenges of the park are essential. Hiking requires having ten essentials: navigation such as a compass or GPS device, headlamp, sun protection, first aid kit, knife, fire matches, light emergency shelter, extra food, extra water, and extra clothing.

The quandary with any type of prevention work is that one never knows what difference it makes. Prevention is hard to measure. It is far easier to measure treatment or response rather than prevention. We can count the number of rescues done in the park. However, we cannot count the number of rescues prevented because of the actions taken by park rangers and volunteers to prevent incidences. Accidents are going to happen, but preparation is still key.

I advocated for parks and recreation throughout my career because these opportunities are central for the prevention of accidents, poor health, loneliness, and the list goes on. I like to focus on prevention in all its forms. I am proud to participate in these efforts. I have faith that our PSAR work makes a difference.

I do not enjoy being the center of attention. Although I decided to embrace birthdays years ago, I have usually not enjoyed any gathering to celebrate me. This year is different. I am changing my attitude just for this year.

I am having a big (I hope) public birthday party. I am turning 75 and I want to celebrate with the friends I have made in the last few years. My BFF Deb is helping organize an “open house” on my birthday day to share in the celebration. I am not sure who will come, but I want to acknowledge my gratitude for life and the connections I have made over the years.

I am proud of my 75 years and grateful for the health that has enabled me to enjoy that time. I am grateful for a fulfilling career and now a second career as a volunteer. Although I have no idea whether I will have another day or decade to live, I want to celebrate big and little achievements along the way.

My parents lived long lives. I remember them talking years ago about not having high school class reunions any longer because so many of their cohorts had passed. Although I still have friends from high school, a little less than a fourth of them have passed. I am sad by the transition from this earth of younger colleagues over the years. By celebrating my years, I want to remember those who are no longer physically on this earth.

I am not a fan of silly birthday cards that can be agist and sexist. I am a fan of honoring people while they are living with special gifts that keep on giving. Paying it forward is always a possibility in acknowledging anyone’s birthday. I don’t want any cards or gifts for my birthday, but I hope those who want to celebrate with me will be kind to others and consider doing something that day (and every day for that matter) to make the world better for humans and/or animals.

To that end, think of me on November 4 when I celebrate the milestone of turning 75 years old. I honor all who read this who have already reached that milestone and wish health and happiness to folks who will someday join me in the “club.”

This fall marks the anniversary of four years of writing this blog. How time flies! I have made over 200 entries during this time–about once a week. I did not have a goal for the quantity of entries when I started. I focused on the quality of my work.

I ponder whether to continue this blog. Sometimes I worry I am running out of interesting (at least to me) thoughts. Other days I feel overwhelmed with number of ideas that bombard my head. Selfishly I wonder what I would do if I did not have an opportunity to write to an audience every week.

Writing has defined my life. I wrote my first “novel” when I was 6 years old. I have been a constant journal writer (I called it a diary) since I read The Diary of Anne Frank in junior high. Recently I was going through memorabilia from high school and college and started reading journal entries. I can’t remember who some of those college friends were who warranted space in my journals at that time. Someday I will toss all those journals, but I can’t quite bring myself to do it yet.

Several years ago, a therapist suggested that I not worry about writing for others but just for myself. Was it possible for me to write and then stick those writings in a drawer never to be shared? I concluded that I write secretly in my journals. Sharing other thoughts professionally as well as personally is a risk worth taking.

I stopped writing a daily journal for a few months several years ago. I was saying the same boring things as I wallowed in my unhappy life. Since resuming daily writing, I have focused not so much on what I was doing but what meanings life has for me.

The title for this blog (wanderingwonderingwithkarla), came about as I had hours to amble in the mountains during the pandemic. Often by myself, I observe my environment as well as reflect on how I feel about those surroundings. Those reflective thoughts sometimes end up in a blog.

Now that I am not writing professionally, I have a different, albeit small, audience. I told a friend that if she wanted to know how I was doing, she could always see what I was thinking each week by reading my blog.

Sometimes I am exuberant about what I post. Other times I like my entries but don’t feel overly enthusiastic that they will resonate with anyone else. Nevertheless, I will continue to write this blog until I run out of ideas or find myself bored with myself. I hope the best is yet to come.

I have long been interested in popular psychology ideas about living one’s best life. During periods of time, I have dwelt upon those ideas. At other junctions, I have been so busy with work and my personal journey that life was just unquestionably full.

As a retiree I have more time to think. I want a full life and continue to challenge myself to enrich my experiences to feel a continual sense of fulfilment.

I am aware of my values, passions, strengths, and foibles. This blog has been one way to dig deeper into processing my daily life of hiking, volunteering, and maintaining friendships. I value myself but also recognize my shortfalls as I endeavor to improve myself.

I have daily goals in my life. As discussed in the past, I am a list maker. I think about what I want to achieve each day as it fits with long-term goals. Now that I am retired, I have few long-term goals other than to find meaning in each day. If my goals resonate with my values, I feel good. I remind myself not to lose the present moment by thinking too much about the future.

Personal relationships are important. I try not to take them for granted. More than ever, I recognize how important support and a sense of belonging are.

Being a volunteer is my second career. I appreciate those possibilities. I am a person who likes to keep active and busy. Volunteering gives me the chance to contribute to my community as I pursue these occasions to add depth and excitement to my life. These volunteer activities elevate my sense of purpose and belonging.

Being grateful is central to a full life. I sometimes don’t think about how privileged I am. In my later years, however, I intentionally acknowledge in my journal the gratitude I feel for the full life I lead.

These days I am more attuned to my physical, mental health, and intellectual life. I know my body is aging and I am not capable of some activities that I used to do. Therefore, regular exercise, a balanced diet, and adequate rest are foundational to today’s fuller life.

I remind myself of the need to adapt to change. I don’t want to be one of those old people who resists everything new. On the other hand, I recognize that life is unpredictable and developing resilience and flexibility are necessary. I reflect on my daily experiences and seek to adjust as needed, not always easy.

Everyone’s path to a fuller life is unique. I continue to explore these ideas as my life evolves.

“They” say it isn’t polite to talk about money, but it is important in everyone’s life. I started receiving an allowance from my parents when I got old enough to count. I got a nickel every week for the chores I did around the house like helping to wash dishes. The amount increased to a dime shortly thereafter as I took on more responsibility such as bringing in wood for our stove fire. I was expected to save part of the allowance and use some of it for what I wanted. A coke and a bag of chips only cost a dime in those days.

I learned quickly, however, that spending the allowance the minute I got it was not the way my parents expected me to behave. Having an allowance made me a better money manager, and I am thankful today that my cautious spending over the years makes retirement financially stress-free.

Having an allowance during childhood taught me some financial skills. I learned that you had to do the assigned chores, or the allowance would not be given. I also learned the hard way the consequences of overdrawing my bank account. My parents emphasized that they would only bail me out once. I realized deferred gratification through needing to save until I could afford something special. Getting a “loan” on my allowance was usually not possible.

The value of money was associated with work. I found my parents’ expectations were clear and consistent, although they were flexible if I needed to negotiate work activities occasionally. I also discovered that one did not get paid for everything done. Some chores around home contributed to the common good without having a monetary reward associated. I internalized the need to balance spending money with saving as well as donating for others when appropriate.

At my mother’s memorial service, our pastor talked about how my mother was frugal but generous. I hope that description also fits me. Perhaps I have taken fiscal management too much to heart. Maybe I should have spent more money during my life rather than focusing so much on saving. However, I cannot think of anything that I really needed that I was not able to purchase. I reap the rewards of that frugality now as I do not worry about not having enough money. I remain a cautious spender, but I also have money to give away to causes that are important to me. I relish those opportunities, and I am glad I learned money management early in life.

I was in college when Woodsy Owl was born in the “Give a Hoot, Don’t Pollute” campaign. Since then, I have tried to cut down on the amount of trash that I give to the universe. I feel overwhelmed with how much garbage I throw away each week and I am just one person (with two cats) in a country with 330 million people.

In the US, consumption patterns have evolved resulting in great quantities of waste generated. The average American throws out 4.9 pounds of trash each day. This waste impacts not only the environment but also public health, urban landscapes, and economic resources. Our disposal habits load up landfills and exacerbates global warming.

I recognize that excessive trash requires a multifaceted approach. Public education campaigns and community projects such as electronic recycling days held in my community twice a year minimize environmental impacts. I, as an individual, also have a huge responsibility.

I strive to make mindful choices and adopt sustainable habits. I embody a minimalist approach by trying to reduce my consumption. I aim to purchase mostly what I need and not just what I want. I reuse containers as much as possible. I recycle paper, aluminum, and glass. I am not handy, but I attempt to fix broken items.

Unlike North Carolina, composting is difficult in Colorado because of the dry climate, but Deb’s chickens get the organic scraps that I have. I think about mindful eating by avoiding single-use plastics and other disposable products. My eating habits are inconsistent, however, since I am a lazy cook and often find getting take-out or a grab and go item in the grocery store easiest for me.

Two of my biggest peeves regarding trash are bottled water and the growing amount of micro-trash. I am proud to say that I can count on one hand the number of times I have purchased bottled water in the past few years. I endeavor to always carry a stainless-steel refillable bottle as well as a plastic coffee cup with me.

Micro-trash is mostly inadvertent. I am aware when I tear open a Kind bar, for example, because it is easy for the tiny top to fly off in the wind. When I volunteer in the park, I pick up far more pieces of mini trash than larger pieces of garbage. These bits add up.

I am struggling to reduce the amount of trash that comes out of my household. My kitties are responsible for pounds of litter that goes into my trash bags. Yet, I am not willing to part with these critters. Nevertheless, I think daily about more responsible consumption patterns and how I can minimize trash to play a small role in creating a healthier planet.

What date will we get the first measurable snow in Estes Park? This is the question that is readily on my mind this time of the year. As the days grow shorter and the mornings are cooler and crisper, I feel a sense of anticipation in the air.

I look forward to the first snowfall of the season with a mix of excitement and wistfulness. It marks the beginning of winter in all its beauty. I like the change of season and the quietness of snowfall with the way it transforms the landscape and the atmosphere. The snowfall also marks closure on the warm summer days.

I am grateful to live in an environment now that has such distinct seasons, although people might argue that fall is way too brief when the first snow is put into the mix. After years of living where snow was mostly an anomaly, snow is inevitable here. The unique aspect is that we often see it high in the mountains before we experience it on the ground in our yards.

First Snowfall on Longs Peak, September 22, 2014 (Photo by Deb Bialeschki)

I love the anticipation of the answer to this perennial question about the first snowfall in the mountains and in town. The question is discussed with friends as well as strangers.

For almost 10 years, my friends and I have held a contest to predict the first measurable snowfall in Estes Park each year. The measurement occurs at noon on the snowfall date on a stump in an open meadow in town. At least one inch must be on the stump. The facilitator, Deb, sends an email to people along with a Google document to sign up for predicted days. It costs $1 for each guess with up to five opportunities. The money is collected and when the snowfall arrives, the winner receives the take. If no one has chosen the date, all donations go to the Pet Association of Estes. Usually, the winner also donates the earnings to the Pet Association since we all support this organization.

As the days creep closer to winter and the first flakes fall from the sky, anticipation builds not just for the snow itself, but for the experiences it brings—moments of wonder, joy, and the peace that winter can offer. Of course, whoever wins our pool gets bragging rights regarding snowfall prediction for the coming year!

“Rocky Mountain National Park. This is Karla. How may I help you?” That’s how I answer the phone dozens of times each week as I volunteer in the Information Office at the park. When staff organized volunteers in the park over 30 years ago, it was fashionable to have “cute” names (e.g., Bighorn Brigade, Tundra Guardians, Roadhogs) for the groups. We were the Rocky Talkers, although we seldom use that moniker these days.

Many questions are repetitive regarding planning a trip to the park, campground reservations, or the timed-entry system. The Information Office fascinates me because one never quite knows who will be calling and what they want to know.

Another volunteer invited me to be a Rocky Talker over 8 years ago. At first, I hesitated to consider the opportunity. I have never been a telephone talker, probably because I grew up on a “party” line in rural Iowa and my parents never encouraged us to talk long or to talk about anything that might be gossip. I, however, gave volunteering at the Info Office a try. I now love working there and “being in the know.”

They say there are no dumb questions, but I think I have encountered unusual ones as a Rocky Talker. Sometimes people catch themselves in the process of asking a silly question. This week a caller asked me if he had to walk to the trail that had all the zig zags on it. I said I wasn’t sure what trail he was talking about, and he replied, “Of course you don’t but I just thought I would ask.” Duh…

Last week I had a conversation with someone about when Trail Ridge Road usually re-opens in the spring. This person wanted to come in early May, and I told him that we aimed to open it Memorial Day weekend and no earlier. He replied, “Well, Memorial Day weekend is in March, isn’t it? It would be open then when I come in May.” No…

On one hand, I have had people hang up on me when I give them information that they did not want to hear. On the other hand, people have told me I made their day or saved their vacation by giving them the options. I take the positive comments with grace and ignore the grumpy people.

We always work as a team with at least one other person staffing the phones. I love getting to know the other volunteers. I have also treasured working with my supervisor, Katy. She kindly thanks the volunteers daily for being there. Katy is planning a well-deserved retirement after 27 years as the Manager of the Information Office. She told me that when she started our desk manual, called “Just the Facts,” was 16 pages. The latest version has 209 pages.

I continue to be amused by the questions. Nevertheless, we Rocky Talkers know by answering the phones, returning emails, and sending information that we are contributing to helping people have cherished memories of our beautiful park.

I was returning from a long hike to Lawn Lake. A family had stopped at a junction a few yards from the beginning of the trailhead. I overheard the matriarch of the family say, “Here comes someone with sticks, they can probably help us.” I wasn’t sure that having “sticks” showed the possibility of wisdom, but I answered their questions about where the trails led. In retrospect, having hiking poles may signal a type of intellect.

I have been using hiking poles for almost three decades. I feel naked when I hike without them. For “easy” hikes, I might only use one but when I have both in hand, I feel like I have double the stability that I would not have without them. Regardless of the terrain, having two extra points of contact with the ground helps me prevent falls and maintain balance.

I climbed the Grand Teton three decades ago. One 25-year-old male guides that led us to the top used hiking poles. It seemed a little unusual especially for a young man. I thought he had knee problems. When I asked, he said that he loved hiking/climbing and being in the outdoors. He said he wanted to be able to be active for the rest of his life. As someone old enough to be his mother, I took his viewpoint to heart and began using the poles to minimize wear and tear on my body.

I understand that using hiking poles can also help improve endurance. By engaging arms and shoulders, you spread the effort across more muscle groups and reduce fatigue in the legs. They also encourage a more upright posture, which can improve breathing by opening the chest and lungs. The poles’ versatility also enables me to probe stream depth and assess the stability of rocks or logs before stepping on them.

I don’t know if poles have saved my knees. It is often impossible to measure prevention. Nevertheless, I know that poles have saved my balance on numerous occasions. Using them is a smart move for me and I look forward to wandering with my poles for years to come.

I loved being a vegetable gardener when I was in 4-H. I marveled every day as the vegetables grew and matured. Every morning, I could not wait to get to my garden to see what sprang up overnight and to contemplate when harvesting might begin. My first garden project was a 10’ x 10’ plot but expanded to include the whole family garden during my teen years.

I no longer have vegetables outside my door, but interesting small flora are abundant in the open space next to my townhouse. Every summer day I am thrilled at seeing the tiny wildflowers and the native thistles outside my home.

Thistles have a bad reputation. Many of them are invasive throughout our community and in the national park. However, our montane ecosystem is also home to native thistles that are not only beautiful but part of the ecology that helps to deter wildland fires. They live in harmony with other wildflowers and proliferate while not pushing other flora away.

Native Wavyleaf thistles can thrive in a variety of places. They are frequently visited by bumblebees and other pollinating insects. Birds use the bristles to line their nests. Native Americans used wavyleaf thistle for food and medicine.

The leaders of my condominium association do not appreciate my nurturing of the little Wavyleaf thistles. Two years ago, they mowed down the one thistle that I had so delighted in seeing. Last year I put up a placard to protect it. Although one of the HOA Board members whacked it down in the fall, it had procreated with a half dozen babies growing several feet away, fortunately on city property that should not be mowed. This year I have more blooming thistles, and they are spreading their seed further into the public space.

I delight in these thistles as well as the other wildflowers that struggle in this high desert environment. The area is far different than the rich Iowa soil that nourished my 4-H garden. Nevertheless, I enjoy the young thistles and other wildflowers every day.

As fall approaches, the thistles are becoming dormant. My morning observations in the winter will change to seeing footprints in the snow instead of flourishing flowers. I will patiently wait, however, for what spring brings.

Just like being a farm kid in Iowa, it’s the little things just outside my door that delight my heart every day. Mother Theresa reminds us that not everyone can do great things, but we can all do small things with love.