Month: May 2024

The tundra in Rocky Mountain National Park is a metaphor for strength and endurance. Any day now as the snow melts from Trail Ridge Road, I will get to experience the beloved tundra again. At volunteer training recently, the supervising ranger asked why volunteering on the tundra was so important to each of us. I quickly responded that the fragility AND the resiliency makes this biome enthralling to me.

The tundra, also called “the land above the trees,” is known for its extreme environment and ecological dynamics. Although spring is evident in parts of Rocky Mountain National Park, the tundra will be the last to respond to warmer weather. In addition, the growing season for plants in this high desert area is only 8-10 weeks. The average daytime temperature in July is about 50 degrees F.

The contrast between the fragility of this area and its resilience captivates me. The climate is harsh with extremely low temperatures. The abbreviated growing season results in the ecosystem’s susceptible to disturbances with less time for recovery. Human activities such walking irresponsibly on the area can have lasting impacts. Recovery is a lengthy process.

On the other hand, the tundra is also highly adaptable to harsh conditions. Flora and fauna develop small stature, specialized root systems, and thick fur or feathers for insulation. Permafrost is a stabilizing force preventing erosion and providing a foundation for vegetation. The tundra can recover from disturbances quickly if it is not too severe or frequent.

The mission of the Park Service is to protect public land for future generations. I feel that mandate strongly on the tundra. The increasing pressures of climate change and human activities pose significant challenges to long-term stability and resilience. We can take steps to mitigate negative outcomes through education and awareness.

I love volunteering on the tundra and helping people understand the dimensions of both fragility as well as resilience. The ideas of fragility and resiliency are a metaphor for human lives. People can possess both traits at the same time. Despite times of distress, most of us can be resilient. Just like the tundra, I may be fragile due to some circumstances, but I also possess the ability to overcome those issues through adaptability and recovery over time.

“Is that statement always true?” “How can I fact check?” These are questions I ask myself commonly these days. So much information is available at the tips of our fingers. Evaluating what is “true” is often disputable and requires critical thinking.

As an educator, I championed critical thinking in my students. I challenged them to go beyond any written word to put it together with other information to come to enlightened conclusions. I admonished that the more people read, the more they know. The more known, the more people realize how much you don’t know. This realization is the beginning of critical thinking.

Critical thinking is the ability to objectively analyze and evaluate information and arguments to form judgments and act. Critical thinkers can recognize biases, evaluate assumptions, and consider alternative ideas.

Promoting questioning is not as easy as taking information at initial value. It takes time and energy to evaluate information. It is daunting to sift through different viewpoints and question assumptions.

I frustrated some graduate students because I dared them to put ideas together and consider alternative conclusions. To get an “A” on a paper required them to teach me something that I did not already know. I did not mean to be arrogant in that request, but I wanted them to go beyond regurgitating ideas to putting ideas together. I wanted them to think about alternative perspectives and interpretations.

We live in a climate that is politically divisive. I feel helpless in changing that situation in our country. I do feel, however, that I have a role in keeping myself informed about varying opinions founded in a thoughtful analysis of issues.

Although I no longer work with students, I challenge myself as I do others to reflect on thought processes, biases, and assumptions. This process sets in motion critical thinking. Approaching information with skepticism is necessary along with an open mind.

 I hope in my daily life and my informal interactions with others that I can support learning environments. I strive to foster my own as well as others’ curiosity and truth seeking.

The day was rainy for our first miles walking the Great Glen Way. Our evening accommodation was at a bed and breakfast in Spean Bridge, Scotland. Upon arriving and donning dry clothes, our six traveling companions congregated in one of the rooms to drink tea and chat. Occasional laughter ensued until we got a rap on the wall indicating that our B & B neighbors were not appreciative of our conviviality.

The next morning, we spoke with these neighbors briefly. They were from The Netherlands–Hans and Wonda. They appeared to be determined to do “every meter of the (Great Clen Way) walk.” We, on the other hand, were playing each day by ear and agreed among ourselves that having an enjoyable time walking the 80+ miles was more important than pushing any limits.

The next evening required creative plans for transportation since our overnight lodging was three miles further than we wanted to walk that day. We negotiated with a helpful Citylink bus driver who dropped us within ¼ mile of our housing in a beautiful castle-looking hotel. Another couple was also waiting for the bus. They were from Germany–Martin and Mora. We walked and chatted with our new German acquaintances as we made our way to the accommodations.

In ensuing days, we leapfrogged with both couples on our daily sojourns. They were faster than us but seemed to take more breaks. We were on the same schedule and route for this long-distance hike. They called us the American ladies. Young Martin and Mora marveled at our tenacity with hiking since all of us “ladies” were in our late 60s and 70s.

On the sixth day of our hike, the ten of us happened to be at the high point of the day at the same time. We shared a photo and lively conversation in the foggy mist. We had to imagine the landscape due to the limited visibility.

Our final day was a push to where we ended at Inverness Castle. We saw our friends frequently during those last ten miles. The highlight of the trip for me was seeing the four or them waiting for us and cheering us on as we came up the final rise to the Castle. We made it! After a celebratory brew at a nearby pub, we bid farewell. What started with handshakes ended with long hugs. It was a farewell that cheered our mutual achievement and the respect we gained for one another on this adventure. Rather than good-bye, I hope to have more experiences like this one–“until we meet again.”