Eureka! A huge sigh of relief.

An Ideal College Orientation Session

Perhaps there is a no more direct way to build lasting friendships then to cram a baker’s dozen of college freshmen in a school van, and ship them up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. This was my first orientation as to what college has to offer, and in a greater sense, what life has to offer.

Three years ago, I hopped into a van with twelve other clean-shaven, slightly nervous, and generally excited, soon to be college students. Many of us had little idea of the nature of nature, and fewer were prepared with our polypropylene underwear and lexan water bottles. None of these high-tech, highly functional gear and gadgets had any more importance than merely keeping us warm and containing our tea. Meeting a group of kids all experiencing the same rugged beauty and challenges that we soon would experience is why we were there, and why such a program exists.

I have grown up hiking along trails, eating freeze-dried spaghetti, and digging cat-holes far away from anywhere important. Much of my experience was contributed by the Boy Scouts, for which I am completely thankful. However, none of my hikes or camp-outs could prepare me for ten days of hiking, kayaking, canoeing, and mountain biking with a group of strangers. This would be a social challenge, as well as a physical and spiritual endeavor.

No sooner then we were in the van, we were out of the van, and our long journey north was over. After a bloated day of sitting on a plastic/leather bench seat, shoulder to shoulder with a mysteriously odd kid from Indianapolis, I soon would learn that he, too, had spent more than a night in the woods. Well, I thought, I have at least one thing in common with one person on this trip. This strange person from Indianapolis would become my second tent mate ever, and if it is possible, another best friend. Our friendship remains today, stronger than ever.

This trip had the potential to be entirely enjoyable. Not enjoyable in the sense that I would be able sit atop the peak of Cloud’s Rest overlooking the magnificent Yosemite, contemplating the meaning of life. But in the sense that I would have a great time racing canoes down a windy river and cruising down a rocky descent on an ill-functioning set of wheels disguised as a mountain bike. We were here to have fun while we built the bonds that we realized would exceed our time shared in Michigan.

We all have spent nights in our tents chatting with a tent-mate we have known since we have owned our tents. Until three years ago, I have only slept in a tent with one other person; justifiably, I consider him my best friend. Most of us, however, have not shared a nylon shelter or an aluminum canoe with a perfect stranger. No other setting brings out a true personality than that of a wilderness. All of us know that impressively warm glow a campfire provides. As we stare into the flickering orange flames slowly consuming that last log, somehow we all find that inner desire to open up to those who occupy the logs surrounding the fire. Truly, we learned something about others and ourselves as we sat around the campfire at the end of the evening.

As our ten days quickly slipped by, we learned that all of us had one thing in common. We all had a dozen new friends in which to confide during our first few (mostly intimidating) weeks of college stress. Soon we learned that these new wilderness-induced comrades would provide one another years of companionship and someone to sit with at the cafeteria table.

Those ten days spent wandering around a mile off the coast of Michigan, on Grand Island, taught us all more than the proper technique to filter water and to follow basic trail ethics. If you ever have the opportunity to spend a few nights in the woods as a means to meet people, or simply enjoy yourself with the company of good company, take a couple days off work. Laughing in the wilderness can provide as great an experience as pondering why we inhabit our beautiful planet. Enjoy yourselves.

Scott Randle
Butler University