Outward Bound

“I will use this

(experience) at

home when the

people around my

neighborhood say

'you can't do this,

you can't do that,'

but you know deep

down inside that

you CAN do it.”


	Our Alumni

	Outward Bound Alumni are students and teachers from partner schools and school districts from communities across the Mid-Atlantic region. Their stories appear here. If you’re an alum and have a story you would like to share, send it our way. Hopefully, reading about others’ experiences will bring back that Outward Bound feeling. Stay tuned for updates in the future. Solo by Vanessa Dawson, 2003 Youth Leadership Award Recipient August 8th, 2003 was quite possibly the most physically demanding day of my life. I hiked up a 2500 foot mountain for about six miles, then down a slope a few gradations away from being a cliff for another mile and a half. All of this I did with about fifty pounds of gear on my back. The pace was demanding, the trail at times was non-existent, and my clothes were consistently drenched with sweat. I loved every second of it. The next day, August 9th, was almost the exact opposite. I spent the day lying on my sleeping mat, listening to the creek a few feet away. But for all that the 8th was physically, the 9th was mentally. It was day eight out of fifteen of the Outward Bound Philadelphia Youth Leadership Expedition, to which I won a scholarship. During the previous week we spent the first three days canoeing on the Potomac River, and second half backpacking through Savage Mountain. Both were challenging, at some points near impossible, yet I pushed myself to do everything. And every night when I pulled my aching body into my sleeping bag for well deserved sleep, I knew I made it to that point because of me and what I had accomplished that day. After a week of grueling physical activity, we were at the halfway point. A day and a half of rest. On Outward Bound, this period of time is called a solo. Forty-eight hours spent alone with a journal, a pen, and very little food. The idea behind a solo is to spend some quality time with yourself, without the distractions of the modern world. Because really, if you can’t spend time with yourself, how can you expect anyone else to want to spend time with you? Our solo began at about 6:00 P.M. on the 8th. The ten students on course were split up alongside a creek at individual campsites about 100 to 200 yards away from each other. If I walked out into the creek and craned my neck I could see the people on either side of me. That first night passed relatively uneventfully, including my frantic set up of camp in hopes of avoiding a rain that never came. For my entire life, with a few exceptions of sleepovers and camping trips, I’ve spent the seven to nine hours I sleep at night alone. The fact that I was alone in the dark without a flashlight didn’t bother me that much, I just went to bed when it got dark and woke up when I heard the first birds singing about the sun being out. I woke up feeling as if I could handle solo like I handled the river and mountain in the previous days. The day moved slowly. I had no watch, so I judged my sense of time on when I felt hungry and tired. I sat out on my sleeping mat for a few hours in the patch of sun I found underneath the canopy of trees. I wrote for what seemed like hours, letters to my friends, my future self, journal entries about whatever popped into my head. When I felt I was ready for a break from writing, I went down to the creek to play for awhile. On my return trip to my sleeping mat is when I encountered the thing I fear the most above all scary things. Horror movies and realistic nightmares are no match for it. Yet there it was. Attracted by the smell of sweat on the clothes I’d tried to clean the night before. A bee. In retrospect, my intense fear of bees is not only silly, it’s downright laughable. But due to an allergy and self ingrained alert system, bees tend to make me lose sight of what a normal reaction would constitute. I encountered the bee three times. The first time it landed on my shoe and seemed as though it was going to go up into my pants, but somehow I managed to move fast enough that it flew away. I was very shaky as I retreated to the safety of my sleeping mat, my breathing heavy and hard to control. I covered my ears against the buzzing sound that ran my blood cold. But roughly a half an hour later I was fine. I wondered around my campsite a bit more, trying to think of something to do, when the bee attacked for a second time. This time, I could not thwart its tactics. I would move left, and it would follow. I stepped forward, it was right there with me. I even ducked down to the ground, and tried to walk that way. Nothing worked. The bee stuck to me like I was the last flower on earth. Needless to say, I was very upset. The kind of upset usually labeled as a nervous breakdown. When I finally did escape the bees evil clutches, I rushed down to the safety and security of the creek where I broke down and cried tears of pure terror. I have no idea how long I was there. All I know is I kept thinking to myself how ridiculous I would feel if some one from the adjoining solo sites came up to me and asked what was wrong and I complained about a bee attack. With shaky legs, yet an iron clad determination not to let the bee win, I went back to my campsite. Once there, I spent some time writing about how paralyzed by fear I had felt. And when I went to grab my apple from the bear bag I had hanging in a tree about fifty feet from my tarp-covered sleeping area, I unknowingly entered round three. The buzzing hit me first, as the bee circled my head. I lowered my shoulders and tried to hunch down in an attempt to make it fly over me and keep going along its merry way. No such luck, the bee just flew lower. It once again circled my legs and my boots, as I vainly tried to slow my breathing and debated on whether or not to call for help. Images of people rushing towards me to shoo a tiny bee off my boot made me cringe. I made up my mind then and there that between me and the bee, one of us was not making it out of the campsite alive. And I had the bigger boot. I somehow maneuvered the bee onto the bottom side of my boot, lifted my foot, and ground the bee into the dirt. I stood on the newly formed bee graveyard for another five or so minutes to insure it would not become a bee zombie and rise from the dead. After that, I returned to my sleeping pad. I was grinning like an idiot, because I won. How often in life do you get to meet your biggest fear, face to buzzing face, completely alone? And how often do you triumph? I triumphed that day. Mind you, I’m not about to go become a bee farmer or anything of the like. I know my limits. And I know they are limitless. Thank you, a letter from West Philadelphia High School Teacher, Christy Michaels Morris following her students’ first OB course. I am writing to tell you how Outward Bound has profoundly impacted my life. Thirteen years ago, I completed a twenty-five day sailing course in Maine. The challenges on that trip, both physical and mental, along with the work and encouragement of the Outward Bound instructors helped me to realize my personal strengths and changed how I view myself and my potential. The instructors told me that they could see me working in a community helping people. I didn’t know where that would lead me, but it led to education. For the past five years, I have taught English at West Philadelphia High School. A labor of love, teaching at West provides a daily set of challenges, each made unique by my personal ethic of care and my commitment to positive change. Over the past few years, I have reflected on the connection between my experience in Outward Bound and my current career path. I have found myself in a role in which Outward Bound directed me. But something was missing. I endeavored to incorporate the unique didactic challenge of Outward Bound into my teaching practice, both inside and outside my classroom. I started to research how I could do that. During a unit on Transcendentalism, it seemed natural to introduce some initiatives and several passages from the HIOBS Readings. Meanwhile, I received a ten-year anniversary notice from Outward Bound Philadelphia! This triggered a renewed interest and connection with the work of Outward Bound. Nine students and I just returned from our school’s first voyage – a four-day course sailing on the Chesapeake. Due to weather, it was an extremely difficult course. Each day, as the students struggled through the cold, rain, wind and chop, I questioned my bringing them into such conditions. But, when I saw students at the helm, hoisting the sails, writing in their journals, comforting each other and rigging the tarp I knew we were right where we belonged. Yesterday, one of the students from the course gave me a copy of his prom picture. On the back he wrote: “To Ms. Michaels,You made me believe if I work hard I could do anything. You showed me the way and told me to what was bad and good. You are more than a teacher to me. You are an angel. Thank you 4 everything. Outward Bound 4 life!” This is where I belong; in a school facilitating Outward Bound experiences. Thank you for this opportunity, Cristy Michaels Outward Bound, by Sarah Quetant, Beeber Middle School I’ve learned a lot about myself and others too, I wouldn’t have grown so much if it wasn’t for you. Sometimes I wanted to quit, but you told me to keep on going. I grew, grew and grew and continue to keep on going. Outward Bound we’ve been together from the start, ever after this program is over, you’ll always have a place in my heart. Outward Bound Howard County 2001, April 10th- 14th by Paige Hannon Maryland public schools have the unique opportunity to send their students and teachers on a five to seven-day sailing, hiking, or canoeing Peer Leadership Outward Bound course, paid for, almost entirely, by a statewide grant. For the spring break of my senior year, with the help of David Starnes and my father, I organized one such five-day scholarship based Outward Bound Sailing Course on the Chesapeake Bay. This particular course was opened to any high school student attending a public school in Howard County. Day one: Our group of eight students, one teacher, and three instructors all met for the first time at Outward Bound’s base camp in Leekin Park at 9:00 this morning. We opened with an introductory game/challenge, which successfully stifled all of our Outward Bound jitters and familiarized us with the people in our group. After the game we began our “duffel shuffle” which entailed switching all of the clothes we had packed from our luggage into long canvas sacks provided by Outward Bound. Once we had completed the shuffle and packed our van we drove about 25 minutes into Baltimore City to the Living Classrooms pier where our Outward Bound sailboat was waiting. Once onboard our instructors familiarized us with what we needed to know about food storage, job rotations, sleeping arrangements, and bathroom facilities (it’s not as bad as it sounds). They also quickly went over the parts of the boat and safety procedures that we might need in case of an emergency. “Are there any more questions,” Brian asked us? We were silent, “Ok then, let’s go.” With the instructors help we effectively sailed the boat away from the harbor, and as the afternoon progressed our instructors let us do more and more things on our own. At 5:30 we anchored our boat in a cove just before the Francis Scott Bridge and began to set up our sleeping tarp while the student cooks made macaroni and cheese. After dinner we had our first evening meeting where we reflected on our first day and talked about tomorrow, we got in bed at around 11:30. Day two: Today we woke up at 6:30 and it was dry, however the second we took our tarp down the rain came; it didn’t stop all day. By 9:30 this morning we had eaten and cleaned up breakfast, put up the sails and we were making decent time sailing. However because of the rain, everyone was miserable, we were dressed head to toe in our rain gear but somehow we were still wet. It was around that time we just accepted that the sun was not going to come out today, so we made the most of it. We performed every song we had ever committed to memory, we sang oldies, country, early 90’s stuff, and Sara even soloed on rap for us. We really were having fun, but somewhere between “Build Me Up Buttercup” and “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” we started to get really cold so at 12 o’clock we pulled into a cove and docked for the day/night. We immediately set up the tarp to keep the rain off, changed into dry clothes for warmth, and ate lunch (tuna on Pita.) Since it was only noon, our instructors outlined for us the history of Outward Bound, taught us more on navigation, and introduced the idea of stepping outside our “comfort zone.” We began with an open discussion on what we think that means and then based on how much we wanted to get out of this course, we took time to consider how far outside our “comfort zone” we want to step. We also made our group flag as a group today. By the time we were done with all that it was time for dinner (stir fry, rice with vegetables), and once dinner was cleaned up we had our evening meeting. We got to bed by 11:30. Day Three: It was very cold when we woke up and there was a dense fog that made it impossible to see beyond eight feet from any point on the boat; it stayed that way up until right before noon. The fog was cool because it made us feel like we were suspended in a huge cloud but at the same time it made navigation very difficult. We got along by rowing from buoy to buoy, and only got lost twice . . . . . pretty impressive if you ask me. With the rain gone everyone was in high spirits. We told stories, played games, and when the sun came out we all stopped rowing. You have no idea how much you miss the sun when you’ve not seen it for two days and you’re cold. We peeled off our layers and began to row again, 4 rowers on 10-minute shifts. We ate lunch in shifts too, row-eat or eat-row. At around one the wind picked up which gave everyone the afternoon to relax. We all spread out and let our bodies soak up the sun. We sailed that way until 7:30 when we reached the Kent Narrows Bridge, the current was too strong to cross so we docked and waited until morning. We ate spaghetti with a tomato, green pepper, garlic, and onion sauce; it was so good. Dinner was the perfect culmination to a beautiful day. At evening meeting Ralph pulled out a green glow stick and said that only the person with the stick could talk, then he asked, “What have we learned from our course so far?” All twelve people on the boat came up with a personal lesson that they have learned, but generally we are just learning what we are capable of, and gaining a lot of perspective as to what’s important in life. Day Four: Today is our last day on the boat, and it is beautiful. The morning started out really cold and rainy. After breakfast we went under the Kent Narrows Bridge against the strong current. We had six rowers all rowing at the same time, completely synchronized-we looked so good. Once we cleared the bridge our final began, our instructors pointed to where we needed to dock for the night then completely stepped back. We were only allowed to ask them three questions for the remainder of the day; the rest was up to us. Nobody knew what they were doing, we sailed the boat in two complete circles and everyone started getting crabby. After lunch, Jonotan our new captain took over steering and navigation. He oriented us on the map and told us which direction to steer, he was a God send! About an hour later we arrived at our final destination, Wye Island and stepped onto land for the first time in over three days. Our instructors led us on a run, then we went swimming in the cold bay water. We saw a horseshoe crab, a deer, a saltwater muscle, tons of comb jellyfish that are real small without any tentacles, and baby crabs. When we got back to the boat we unpacked everything on the boat, the stove, the food, our packs, our life vests, etc. Once it was bare we began to scrub every visible surface, then we pumped out the bilge, which was truly a team effort. We all had to fit in the stern of the boat, crammed on top of one another to bring all the on-board water to the back where we were pumping. Once everything was spic and span we ate dinner and sat down for evening meeting. This was by far our best, most candid meeting of the entire trip. Our group had become very close by this time and we talked openly about what this experience has meant to us and what we will take away from it. We slept under the stars, it was our last night together on the boat and we didn’t want the tarp up. Day Five: Our last day: we woke up and ate a good breakfast, then got on the Outward Bound Van and drove back to Leekin Park. The first thing we did after unpacking the van was to get in our harnesses for the climbing wall. We spent a half hour on that wall; each of us got to go twice which was a lot of fun because you could really see everyone’s improvement. Next we walked over to the Pamper Poll, which is a tall telephone like pole with a disk at the top that spins. There is a ladder that takes you halfway up the pole and then pegs that lead you to the top. The idea is to climb the pole, stand on the spinning disk, and then jump off. It was a lot harder for me than I thought it would be, you have to have a lot of faith that your team is going to catch you because when you’re 40 ft. off the ground and someone tells you to jump, even if you are harnessed in, it’s hard to do. After our group had all gone, we moved on to our cleanup phase, we washed all the dishes and containers we had dirtied, we washed our rain gear, and we washed our canvas sacks. Once everything was cleaned and dried we had our graduation ceremony where we each got a certificate for completing the course. Our parents picked us up shortly after that.

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