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Dear family and friends,

Right now I am cozy and warm, sitting in the reading room of the Sterling College library. We arrived here on Tuesday, each of us individually, returning from our solo. We left Green River Reservoir on our own and skied the day, all the while searching for a good place to build our bough-lean-to shelters. Although we past each other several times on the Catamount Trail, it was still a dignifying and independent experience, taking on this life alone, knowing that we can make our own shelter and navigate ourselves to Sterling. And the sound of the clicking ax in the distance was comforting. Although I was alone, the rest of my family was out there, too, each having there own experience, parallel to mine. The next day we proceeded to ski until we reached Craftsbury Commons, a cozy, old time village, and nestled within it, the campus of Sterling College. The sun was brighter than bright. The light reflected off the snow and all the buildings in sight, for they were all painted white. With my skis stuffed in my pack and poles in hand, I walked down the dirt road feeling pretty triumphant, and turned the corner to find an array of college students, hanging out and playing Frisbee. . “He-heeey, you made it!” One of them shouted. I guess they had heard about our group coming. I roamed the area until finding some familiar Kroka faces. We all rolled in at different times, and it felt so good when everyone was together again. We set up our tent and have been “living on campus” for three days now. The Sterling community couldn’t be more welcoming. We’ve been eating meals with the students and staff, got a tour of the campus, dropped in on some of the classes, and we’ve had time to wander freely and mingle with the people here. It’s been an enjoyable layover for us. However, it will be nice to band together again when we take of, tomorrow morning.

This leg has been an exciting one. We left On the Loose and got dropped off at the Smiley School. “The happiest school in the world!” sung the principle and janitor as we chatted in the cafeteria.



Kroka at the Smiley School

We made our homestead right behind the school, next to the play structure and mini-greenhouse. It felt a little goofy and all too amusing. Our reason for being there was to give a presentation to the grade-schoolers about who were are and what we are doing. We prepared our skit the night before, including songs, stories charades and show and tell. We were all set, but thee next morning foul weather showed up in place of the kids. So we stayed an extra day, carved spoons, looked at trees, and learned how to make and use a bow drill. The following morning students came and we gave our presentation. It was fun to engage the kids and the presentation went smoothly. Afterwards we broke camp, and with fully stocked packs, we set out to start our 4th leg. Finally, it had been a full week since we had skied last, and what a better challenge than to start out climbing 2,900 feet in elevation, up Bolton trap traverse. It took two days to ski up and then down Bolton trap, and it was fun and challenging. The second day we reached the peak and had a lunch break, the view was breath taking; from there you could see where we had started. The snow was fluffy and so deep.



When Eric took a few steps off the trail he sunk chest height.
Oops, he is disappearing!

It’s quite possible that there’s a weather angel watching over us, for the perfect conditions always come when we need it. Unfortunately Celeste was not with us. Although her ankle has been healing well, it is still tender and starting off with rugged terrain didn’t seem like the safest idea. We met up with her the second day at the bottom of Bolton Valley. And a wise choice that was, for coming down Bolton we probably each fell 30 times over, myself more like 50. But spirits were high and every now and then one of us would whip down the hill, around the curve, through the trees, and come to a steady stop without falling or stumbling. You’d be left thinking “wow, that worked out!” Those moments made it well worth it. The epic crashes made it pretty well worth it.


Descent from Bolton trap traverse

We had another adventurous day skiing through the pouring rain. We went through the Von Trapp Family lodge, gliding on groomed cross-country trails. We got a laugh when skiing up the “BLACK DIAMOND” route, a wide-open, obstacle-less, groomed trail that was sort of steep. We floated along past skinny people on skinny skis and found shortcuts on the way. Our favorite one was called “Can’t Dog Trail!” a windy downhill that made me feel like hooligan. We were whooping and hollerin’ the whole way down! Due to the rain we set an early camp and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening taking turns by the stove drying our clothes. That night our noses were treated to an array of smells. We became precisely in tune with the burning scent of every variation of fabric that we had cumulatively owned. From across the tent someone would yell “SOMETHING BURNIGN, I THINK ITS SYNTHETIC!” then later “BURNING WOOL, BURNING WOOL!” Then even later someone would detect the familiar burning scent, and someone would respond “DON’T TRHOW THE CLOTHES OFF JUST YET, IT’S ONLY THE FOOD…*sniff, sniff*… Kasha I think.” Despite the massive amount of wet possessions, we left camp the next day all with dry socks, mittens and parkas, and some patching projects to add to our lists.

The way we travel is not very modern. We embrace old traditions and ways of living off the land. We’ve learned to respect the times when the focus of our society wasn’t all about technology, but more about the land. One of the ways that we learn more about the times before us is meeting people who were around back then. This leg we visited an extraordinary woman, Gert Lapine, and her three sisters, Gannet, Theresa and Marie. They welcomed us into their home and shared with us stories of their life growing up on the farm. Gert took on the farm as a young woman, and working hard was part of standard living. When we arrived we piled into their cozy and cluttered home. Gert greeted us with a firm handshake and big hug. Gert’s oldest sister, Marie was constantly smiling and nodding er head “Halloo! Hallo there! How are you? Hello!” Gert’s youngest sister, Gannet hobbled through the front door, barefoot, carrying pales of milk. Their other sister, Theresa had recently suffered severe strokes and had become paralyzed, but her sisters take good care of her and together the four of them live with more spunk and energy then most. Gert started telling us stories and her sisters chimed in. The entire time they were poking fun at each other and laughing constantly. They seem to take life so lightly. Gert talked about the hard times, but even the hard times she still portrayed as the good times. “I never missed a day of chores for 45 years!” she said and anytime she talked of the work, it seemed to get blurred with play. We spent hours laughing and telling stories and about halfway through, the Lapine sister brought on the munchies, cakes and cookies, bread pudding and milk, lots of milk. I felt almost too comfortable in their humble home, and didn’t feel like leaving. But the time eventually came and after a few group pictures, we skied back to our camp. That night some people carved viciously in efforts to make four wooden spoons for the Lapine sisters as our thank you gift.

The next day the ten of us left camp without Chris, Tom or Hannah. It was a group solo for us. The plan was to ski two days together and (hopefully) arrive at Green River reservoir the second night. Both days we had to cover long distances, so we made an effort to ski hard. Jesse turned to me and pointed off into the distance. “See that mountain, furthest away form us? That’s were we’re headed”. And sure enough by the end of the day we camped on the other side of that mountain, Mt Elmore. The country from Gert’s to here was phenomenal and like nothing else we’ve skied through. We flew through big open fields, down long rolling hills, through rural towns and across remote dirt roads. Then started the climb and traverse of Mt Elmore. That part took a lot longer then planned, and when we set camp it was well after dark. As it turned out, Tom, Chris and Hannah camped on the same bog; only they were tucked behind the trees. We continued with our camp set up pretending they weren’t there and had a late dinner. That night, although fun, was a bit challenging. With three sets of hard working hands gone we noticed the large impact that each individual holds in this community.

The next morning the snow had gotten sticky. This made it hard, but still, we moved along until we made it to the Green River Reservoir area. There were 5 or 6 ponds that Chris, Tom and Hannah might’ve been at, and all around those ponds were winding snowmobile tracks. I guess you could say we got a little mixed up, and ended up making some unnecessary detours. We eventually came upon an open pond and skied across it, but there was no sign of the others. We hopped to the next pond. “Who hoop! Whoop hoop!” No response. So we bushwhacked a little further to a third pond. “Whoop hoop, whoop hoop!”… Still, no response. At this point it was getting pretty dark and snowing hard. We decided we needed to set camp. We sent Jesse a little further to search one more pond, but he came back with no such luck. So we shared another night together and planned on searching for the others early the next day, which was the fallback plan all along. The extra night turned out being just what we needed. Despite being dark once again, we busted out camp set up quicker then ever, and the evening was full of laughs. Of course, Tom, Chris and Hannah were at the only pond we didn’t check. We reunited with them, the next morning, and shared our stories. Apparently the wind was on our side because they had heard our call, and called back but we heard no response at all. Assuming we had heard them, they took down their shelter and waited for us, only to realize that we weren’t coming, and they had to once again build their shelter. It was nice to have everyone back together again.

Now the excitement ran through us for our families to come. We channeled our excitement through preparation. We put together a presentation for the families, and also created lovely campsites. This included multiple wall tents, a fancy outhouse, and a banquet table sculpted with snow, and a seating arena with an arch entrance, also shaped with snow. In the center of the arena was a fire pit so we could all enjoy the warmth of the fire.


The arch entrance to the arena

As the hours counted down towards the parent’s arrival I became more and more excited. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one. We skied out to meet our parents at the road, and there we waited with butterflies in our bellies. Finally a caravan of vehicles came down the hill. Car after car rolled in, our loved ones inside. My knees buckled when I saw my mom. Her face, voice, and mannerisms so familiar, yet it’s been so long since I’ve witnessed them. It felt so good to have her at my side. Seeing the other students with their families was a joy. They too seemed equally as happy to be reunited with them, and it was fun to see the dynamics in everyone’s family. That weekend we spent time as a community and time alone with our families. We had elaborate buffy meals together. We set up camp and did chores all together. It was fun to teach my mom about all the things we’ve learned and take her out to find and chop down good, dry firewood. The night we all hung around the fire, drinking chaga, telling stories and singing songs. It felt good to be living comfortably within this extended community. Never before have I felt so in sync with everything around me. I had my mom, I had my new Kroka family and I had the land. The parent weekend whizzed by and before we knew it we were sending our folks off, once again. It felt too short, but at the same time, it felt just right. We want to thank you all for all your incredible efforts, Thanks to those who came near and far to visit us, those who brought with them goodies a plenty, and food to feed the masses. Thank you to those, who willingly left their warm, cozy home to spend the night in the cold with us, in the winter. Thank you for caring and believing in this program, thank you, for accepting who we are and who we’ve become. Thank you, for loving and understanding. We wouldn’t be here without you.

Our circle

For the Vermont Semester Taylor, the scribe

A beautiful and happy day

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