by Tom Krattenmacher
Reprinted from The Princeton Alumni Weekly, November 23, 1994
Last page update 4/14/95.
The camp bustles with activity in the last hour of daylight as nine undergraduates prepare for dinner and a night's sleep on the cold, hard ground. The day - the last of August - had begun some twelve hours earlier with bagels and orange juice on the grass of Poe Field, back on campus, where the students left behind their watches, wallets, keys, deodorant, and any hope of a shower. Following a three-hour bus ride to the woods of northwestern New Jersey, the group hiked three-and-a-half miles along the Camp Mason Trail to its intersection with the Appalachian Trail. Any thought about Outdoor Action being a stroll in the park has been dispelled by now. Loaded down with a mobile village and six days' worth of food, the packs are heavy, weighing thirty to forty pounds. And the trail has been rough, with steep inclines, sharp rocks jutting from the mossy, and narrow waterways to traverse over stones and logs.
"G13" (the G standing for "Gap," as in Delaware Water Gap) is one of sixty-three groups dispersed to forested regions of New Jersey, Maryland, Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, New York, Connecticut, and Vermont as part of Outdoor Action's annual program of freshman trips. The nine students in G13 cover an amazing range of states and countries. Among the seven freshmen are two American citizens who have grown up abroad: Johann Friedrich "Fritz" Gugelmann of Bern, Switzerland, and Mark Basil of London. With them are Liz Moller of New York City, Lauren Shweder of Chicago, Erik Rubin of Redding, Connecticut, Sarah Pourciau of Appleton, Wisconsin, and Whitney Lee of Honolulu, Hawaii. All are between seventeen and nineteen years old. Their leaders are Alyssa Nelson, a senior from Rosamond, California, and Steve Searfoss, a junior from Mexico City.
The campers are glad to shed their packs and hiking boots, but reaching the campsite is hardly a cue to rest. Food bags are pulled out of backpacks, and members of one detail put their Swiss Army knives to work chopping up the onions, green peppers, and cheese that will go into tonight's chicken fajitas. A Coleman stove is fired up, and two campers make a foray to the spring at the bottom of the hill to fill water bottles. One group strings up the long tarp that will provide the night's shelter. Some distance from the campsite, others rig a rope from which to suspend "bear bags" to keep food from any ursine visitors looking for an easy meal.
The leaders, Alyssa and Steve, are trained to turn over more and more responsibility to the group as the six days of the trip unfold. But on this first night, they're doing much of the work themselves, demonstrating as they go. The bear bag and tarp require several different kinds of knots, and just the right touch is needed to get the little stove burning. There's a quick lesson on guarding against the camper's nemesis, the pathogen giardia - five drops of iodine in each water bottle - and instruction in 'minimal-impact" camping, a big emphasis of Outdoor Action. It's a philosophy that seeks to avoid even the slightest acts of pollution. Trash, obviously, is collected and packed out like food and gear. More surprising to the campers, they also can't leave behind food scraps, biodegradable or not, lest any animals become dependent on them. Alyssa, a low-impact enthusiast, produces horrified looks when she demonstrates one way to make the fluid from the canned chicken disappear with no impact on the environment. She drinks it.
The campers quiz Steve and Alyssa about Bicker and the eating clubs as they consume their fajitas, sitting Indian-style or standing, eating out of their plastic camping bowls. A dessert follows, tortillas fried in honey, then it's time for cleanup. The hardiest campers get the dish-cleaning started OA-style, wiping the pans with tortillas and disposing of the edible rags in their stomachs. Food for the next five days is packed into sleeping-bag stuff sacks, which do double duty as bear bags. It's pitch dark now as the campers spread out their sleeping bags in a long row under the fifteen-foot tarp. Following OA custom, Steve and Alyssa lead the group through a debriefing in which the students take turns relating their observations about the day. Then there is silence except for the chirping of tree crickets and the occasional buzz of a mosquito. G13 goes to sleep.
Outdoor Action celebrates its twentieth anniversary this year. Beginning with a group of twenty students, faculty members, and administrators who spent a weekend at Princeton's camp near Blairstown, New Jersey, the program has grown to the point where nearly half of every incoming class goes on a freshman trip before settling in for Orientation Week and the start of classes. Forty-eight percent of the Class of 1998, a total of 556 students, took part in this year's exercise, setting a new record for participation. (Fifty-four percent of the class applied, but for the second year in a row, there were not enough slots to satisfy demand.) According to OA counts, more than 6,000 students have gone on freshman trips since 1974. "Word has definitely gotten around," says OA director Rick Curtis '79. "Prospective students coming for April hosting hear again and again that it's a great way to start the year, or they hear about it from someone from their high school."
Though similar Outward Bound-inspired freshman programs are found at other schools, Curtis believes Princeton's is unique for the length of the trips (six days) and the high percentage of participants. They take an intimidating amount of advance work to pull off. In preparation for this year's trips, Curtis and two student interns purchased and divvied up 5,000 pieces of pita bread, 180 pounds of prunes and other dried fruit, 412 pounds of cheese, 300 cans of tuna, and 945 pound of "gorp." (The initials stand for "good old raising and peanuts," but the secret ingredient if M & M candies.) First-aid kits must be prepared, with myriad contingencies to be considered. In addition to the predictable array of bandages and ointments, each group packs everything from splints to enemas to snake-venom extractor kits. Logistics are formidable. A fleet of buses and student-driven vans must be marshaled to haul students to and from the campus and between the hiking and canoeing phases of their trips. Students provide their own hiking boots and other basic gear, but OA supplies the packs and sleeping bags for those (a majority) who don't have their own.
The most crucial preparation comes in training the student leaders responsible for safety and good times on the trips. Because of student turnover, OA trains some ninety new leaders a year. It has its own leadership manual - a 250-page book now in its third edition - and a training regime that includes a five-week course culminating in a five-day backpacking trip. Prospective leaders also attend workshops on wilderness first aid, CPR and group skills. "Most OA leaders are people who had a wonderful time on their own freshman trips, " says G13 leader Steve Searfoss. "They decide to become leaders because it's the only way you can have that experience again."
The members of G13 have finished their second dinner on the trail, polishing off some chocolate pudding by passing the pan and spoon around the circle while replaying the day and its seven-mile hike. The steep climbs on the Appalachian Trail had paid off in some sweeping panoramas during daylight hours, and now the nighttime is treating them to another spectacular sight. They lie on their backs in a small clearing, gazing at a panoply of stars framed by leaves and branches.
The group takes its time waking up and mobilizing for Day Three, the toughest stretch of the trip. It's late morning when they finally launch into the ten-and-half-mile hike to a campsite where they expect to find a wooden shelter with a roof - luxury quarters by trip standards. By now, they're getting used to their grimy bodies and clothes and the lack of toilets. But a few still resist low-impact camping, particularly that even small amounts of leftover food must be packed out or consumed. A debate picks up as the sun nears its zenith in the clear sky. Sure - one group in one night won't make much impact on a campsite, allows Fritz, an experienced backpacker, but consider that dozens of groups and hundreds of campers will be "using these same small spaces over and over."
That's fine in theory but hell in practice, says Sarah, who admits her revulsion at drinking excess fluid from a can of tuna: "Fritz, you have a powerful argument, but he smell of that tuna water is an even more powerful argument."
"You can take these things to ridiculous extremes," Erik says. Lauren agrees this is stewardship run amok, and smacking of a kind of environmental political correctness.
Liz wishes Fritz would be a little less judgmental. "I feel like he's staring me down each time I spit out my toothpaste water."
It's hard hiking for three hours, with just a few short breaks to eat gorp, guzzle water, and admire the views from the ridge tops. The packs come off for lunch at about two o'clock, and cheese, pita bread, peanut butter, and more gorp make the rounds. There is still a long way to go to the campsite, however, and some are wondering whether they'll overcome the late start and make it before dark. The hiking resumes in earnest and stretches into the early evening, with a sense of urgency pushing the pace. The sun is still a little above the hazy ridge as G13 reaches a landmark that assures them the campsite is close; the race against the clock is apparently won. "I'm proud of us," says a smiling Lauren, who, like several others, is on her first backpacking trip.
The travelers whoop it up as they spot the rough wooden structure a few minutes later. Following dinner, Alyssa and Fritz make like human garbage disposals. To the residue of pasta water and leftover Alfredo sauce they add a dash of powdered hot chocolate as sweetener. Then, to the gaping astonishment of the others, they drink it to the dregs.
The freshman trips strive to foster environmental stewardship, teach outdoor skills, and show students a good time, says Curtis, but their main purpose is to ease the transition to college. "A lot of these students really haven't been away from home before, and it can be a tough transition. The freshman trip offers a chance to make some friends before school starts. Universally, those who make these trips feel a lot more settled in their first six weeks of school. Living in a small community for six days, as they do on a trip, they have to be very interdependent. That's what you have to be when you're living in a dorm. Many haven't lived with anyone but their families, and they have to learn how to get along."
A constant during any OA trip is conversation; the campers learn a lot about each other. For some, it's both refreshing and unnerving to be around other Princeton students for the first time. They might have been big deals in high school, or at least stood out with their good grades and Ivy League prospects. Now they're finding out how it feels to be one in a pack. Some are clearly exhilarated by the trail conversations about politics, religion, philosophy, and literature. "Back home, all my friends would roll their eyes when I would start getting too deep on them," one camper remarks. Though the official orientation doesn't begin until they're back on campus, the OA students get a head start in the woods. Leaders are barraged with questions: How do you get an adviser? How does advanced placement work? How much drinking really goes on? What's the dating scene like?
"An important thing to me is to get everyone excited about Princeton," says Searfoss. "A lot of people think they lucked in and aren't really worthy of being here. The OA trip can help them realize they do fit in. By the time the trip is over, they've made friends and they're excited about starting school. Breaking barriers - that's what it's all about." Says one freshman, "The most intimidating thing about Princeton is the social life, and the friends I've made on this OA trip take a lot of the pressure off."
True to its Outward Bound roots, OA also nurtures self-esteem by challenging students and giving them the chance to surprise themselves with their ability to adapt. "It teaches people that they can do things they didn't think they could, which is a useful metaphor for college," Curtis says. There is also the physical dimension. All but the best-conditioned athletes or experienced outdoor types find their stamina tested. To avoid putting anyone in a sure-lose situation, the program attempts to group participants according to their degrees of physical fitness and match them with appropriate routes. Still, the going is tough enough to keep the question in the back of most of minds: Can I make it today? "For some the challenge is physical," Curtis says. "But for an athlete who's in great shape, the challenge might be to slow down and hike with the rest of the group."
Taking responsibility is another theme. Through the first couple of days, the juniors and seniors in charge do a lot of leading and teaching. By the end of a trip, the freshmen are making their own decisions.
Evening has settled in on the glassy Delaware River. Two to a canoe, G13 has paddled about twenty miles on this, the last full day of the trip. They reach the day's destination, a secluded campground on the Pennsylvania shore. As his boat hits land, Steve stand up in his canoe to make an announcement. "Since it's our last night," he begins, "we have a surprise for you. You've learned some skills these past few days, so you'll set up the camp and bear bag yourselves. One more thing. You will not speak English." He and Alyssa add one more rider: Fritz, whose previous camping experience has made him an unofficial leader of sorts, is forbidden to use his arms or hands.
The campers are immediately take with the idea. Grinning, they break up into small task forces and begin throwing around their various languages - French, Spanish, German, Swiss-German, even Hawaiian and a kind of Latin (Lauren points to a plant and asks, "Poison Ivycus?"). Amid this babble, they end up relying on hand gestures to get the spaghetti cooking, set up the tarp, and search out a limb for the bear bag. "Meine Armen sind kaput," Fritz mutters as he marches around, offering verbal help in five languages.
While they eat, Steve regales the freshmen with stories about a roommate's procrastinating on papers and answers questions about Princeton's academic life. Plans are already being made for a G13 reunion later in the semester. "I can't believe this is the last night," Whitney muses. "I have mixed feelings. I wouldn't have missed this experience for the world, but it's exciting to be going back to start college - and to take a shower.
The notoriously late-starting G13 is up at 7:30 for the final half-day of the trip. Ten miles must be conquered by noon, when the group is scheduled to meet a van at Poxono Landing, so the group breaks camp without breakfast. A thick fog hangs on the river as the five canoes cut silently through the gray water. An hour later, as the fog begins to lift, the paddlers stop for a cold breakfast of granola. Their luck has held - no rain again. The morning breaks out warm and sunny, as it has nearly every day of the trip.
There's a determination to the paddling as they near the end. The campers are both sad and excited about finishing the trip. After six days without washing, everyone is rank, and the thought of a shower and fresh clothes has real appeal. There's a minor mishap when one of the canoes twists sideways in a rapid, hits a rock, and tips. But the two soaked occupants right the canoe and climb back in.
The tandems turn the final hundred yards into a good natured race, and they're all smiles and laughter as they haul the canoes out of the water and pose for group photographs. And a picture they make - all muddy and disheveled, with the men sporting scruffy beards. "Give me a G!" Steve shouts in a goofy cheer. "Give me a thirteen! What's that spell?"
The true meaning of OA is finally coming clear. It is...dirt. Liz, who has spent her life in glamorous Manhattan, is wearing it from her toes to her head as she and the rest get ready to board the van that will return them to Blairstown for the bus back to campus. Orientation Week begins tomorrow, and then classes. "There's this stereotype of the Princeton student being pretentious," Liz says. "Well, this trip has shown me the stereotype isn't true. Also, I've never gone so long without a shower or let my hair get this dirty. It's been an enlightening experience."
Copyright © 1995 Outdoor Action Program, Princeton University.