Seven stuffed backpacks bobbed up the hill toward the Beaver Pond viewpoint at Squire Lake, zippers glinting in the overcast half-light. The boys chattered and laughed, trading stories of their summer shenanigans and comparing what they had brought for snacks. Here, summer still clung to the tree branches above in shades of emerald. The only harbingers of change to come were the first hints of an orange blush on the vine maple leaves, and the less-than-sunny sky that seemed to hang lower than usual. But the carefree joy of summer still bounced in the boys’ steps and shined in their smiles as we gathered for the morning circle. This circle is a regular opening ceremony on any given adventure, but at the beginning of the season, we take extra care to spend time introducing ourselves to each other and setting intentions for the year.
An integral part of Explorer’s Club is letting nature moments be the lessons. On any given walk, we encounter a multitude of opportunities that promote natural curiosity and guide our inquiry-based adventures. Our first discovery at Squire Lake that sparked interest was the kill site of a small songbird: a litter of grimy bones and tattered wings left the victim unidentifiable, and the boys mused on the mysterious crime scene and potential culprits.
A mere half-mile later, we stumbled on an exhilarating treasure: bear tracks! Animal tracking is an innate curiosity in most kids, and Greg took the opportunity to delve into a little natural history and tracking knowledge. It’s all fueled by questions: what was the bear doing? How long ago? How do we know? Is it still in the area? What should we do if we see a bear, and what will it do if it sees/hears/smells us?
After recognizing and discussing how we share this forest with many creatures, we bushwhacked up a steep hill towards a lunch spot overlooking two low-flowing stream beds. The thick duff and dead leaves on the hillside shielded the soil from the worst of the erosion we could have caused. In general, the lush forests in Whatcom County are resilient landscapes, offering kids the opportunity to romp and play (consciously and respectfully) with minimal ecological damage. After our food was eaten and our trash was wrangled, we launched into the next lesson: fire making. It’s a necessary and nuanced skill in this cool, wet climate.
This week, in addition to practicing the hand drill method of fire starting, we learned the secrets of fire-making with fatwood: resin-soaked wood that can be found in either heartwood or old tree stumps. Ask the boys where we found our fatwood, and they should be able to tell you how we cut it from big, old Douglas fir stumps. Then, we scraped some shavings from these chunks that would ignite with just a meager spark of steel and flint. Because the fatwood burns long and hot, it makes an amazing starter to light bigger kindling: hemlock provided these, from its surplus of dead and resinous lower branches.
While the boys were lighting up sparks and tinder, some nearby slugs were getting their own fire started: we discovered them on our hike out, locked in their hours-long, spiral mating dance. Sex is everywhere in nature – birds sing courting songs above us, and moss spores slide through rivulets of water under our feet. It’s a natural biological process and we approach it as such. The boys handled it appropriately for their age: they were fascinated and amused by the bizarre and elaborate mating ritual of the Eurasian black slug. As we hiked out, their laughter echoed down the trail.
Here’s to a new season of adventures, questions, nature moments, community, and discovery.
