Neglecting Your Garden

This title isn’t all that encouraging, is it? Seems like a recipe for low yield and feelings of failure, incompetent green-thumbery and empty bellies come fall. And yet – there’s something to be appreciated about periods of outward seeming neglect in our lives.

Let me present to you the ever-popular ‘life is a garden’ analogy. Stay with me – the fruits of this labor (see what I did there?) will hopefully yield a different means of viewing the aspects of ourselves and our lives we oft disregard, especially as employment (aka guiding) season takes precedence.

I am a gardener… a novice gardener… a hobby gardener… I love that plants enjoy and are intrinsically designed to grow even when I leave them to fend for themselves for months at a time. That last one is probably the most accurate, and yet – I am still a gardener. Why? Because I try. Because I show up. Because I enjoy it. Because every time a plant grows, that means I grow too.

My relationship with gardens isn’t yet mature – as a child, we had a garden on the hobby farm, but it was never solely my chore, and those memories are so vague I only recall snapping green beans and munching cucumbers. Fast forward quite a number of years, and a guide garden sprouted in Lowell, Idaho next to the Lochsa river, a labor of love (and abandon) as the river season gained traction and life on the dirt road behind Three Rivers dried up after the spring rains. We still generated produce by the end of the season, thanks to the help of Mike Sr. watering and the appreciative glances of guests as they sat in the hot tub next to the growing space. The harvest was so sweet, knowing we had grown it.

Fast forward a couple more years, and BOOM covid. Ah. Yes, I will mention covid. Holed up at my folk’s place, in an anxiety-ridden and frantically fueled existence – I’ll admit, I washed my oranges when I got home from the store. (These are the things you don’t see on social media, my friends!) My stepmom one day handed over a book on straw bale gardening, her silent nudge giving me a hobby that would tire the body and ease the mind.

 That first season, the garden got a lot of care – I set up the space with a fence to deter deer, arranged my composting straw bales in a fun formation, set up a watering system that would turn on automatically with the lawn sprinklers, and purchased more seeds than I needed with my stimulus check. When they arrived, I planted. I set up a growing space inside the laundry room to tend to my tiny seedlings, watching them reach taller and taller, speaking to them and taking them outdoors for a few hours each day when they were ready for full sun exposure. Eventually, they were planted in the bales, potatoes were put in a box planter, and I continued carefully loving them. And then, whammo, river season was back on! And I abandoned the garden. That year when I returned in the fall, I had some yields, some losses, and learned some things.

Cleaning up the space was a chore, and as I tilled the composted straw into the earth, personal reflections came and went. There would be rich soil here someday, in this rocky field I had chosen for my small garden. I planted garlic in the fall, hoping it would take root.

Through the fallow of winter, I thought of my potentials – my possible plantings, not only in the garden but elsewhere. What would I plant? Where would I plant them? How would I manage the seedlings since I wouldn’t be cooped up at my folk’s place this go around? How would they be cared for throughout the summer while I was guiding? Was I going to be guiding at all? How did I want guiding to look and feel coming into this new season? What else did I want to grow in my life? These thoughts and many others helped me get through a tough winter, knowing there was a dream brewing for spring.

 Come springtime, I purchased more straw bales to condition with fertilizer and water, started seedlings in tiny pots under the laundry room grow light, set up the watering hose system, and even added a hoop house for trellising beans. Again, I planted. And again, I abandoned. To put in all the front work, only to leave. My family is busy and doesn’t have the bandwidth for weeding, harvesting, or pest control. Still, plants grew. They grew! Kale as tall as me, chard, peppers, nasturtium, potatoes (last year’s had become my seedling crop, doubling in numbers come harvest), and garlic!! 15 beautiful bulbs. Some plants died or never emerged over the summer of neglect, and some absolutely thrived. Tilling in straw and some additional horse manure and putting the garden to sleep that season left me contented. The soil was becoming a richer, deeper black and I knew better what to do to prepare for next season. I felt grounded here. I planted garlic in the fall, hoping once more it would take root.

In between gardening seasons, I moved towns to start fresh in a new place. Now I was living six hours from the garden space instead of one, so how would a garden work this year? I visited my family in the springtime and went for it anyway. I didn’t buy straw, I didn’t till, I didn’t have time to nurture seedlings to growth. A vague plan for the garden layout was sketched onto some graph paper and posted on my folk’s fridge. I scattered seeds and mulched them with leftover straw that had been rotting in a heap. Three days was all I had to prep and get everything in the ground. My garlic was already showing from its own mound of mulch, silently urging me on. And so, I planted. Or rather, I spread some seeds around. The potatoes went in quick rows, nasturtium seeds flung along the bottom of the hoop house, kale sprinkled haphazardly; the corn was a total who-knows? experiment, the turnip seeds were tossed in between the garlic rows, and I commandeered my sister’s watermelon and tiny pumpkin starts claiming ‘it’ll grow better with space.’ It was chaos, beautiful chaos. And then, abandoned.

 I’ve never had a more successful garden, even though yields weren’t astounding. 30 lb of cute little potatoes, so much kale, beautiful and spicy nasturtiums, heads of corn from my experimental tossings, more massive turnips than I knew what to do with, a beautiful watermelon, tiny pumpkins for my nephew, and garlic. My favorite crop. 40 big, beautiful, potent bulbs. Delightful! And all of these plants, neglected. Each and every one of them.

But were they really? Had I actually neglected my garden completely? Sure, I left for long periods of time, not to be seen or heard from. I returned, though, and was willing to put in the work when I was there. I put in a lot of effort to create the space, to automatically water while I was away, and to protect from curious deer and my sister’s mustang (a glutton for greens, that one). Sure, a lot of plants didn’t make it, my relationships with them fading as they withered in the sunlight. But sometimes, you can’t control outcomes. Sometimes, you just have to accept and let go. Sometimes your turnips are freakin’ huge, and sometimes the carrots you were really hoping for never even sprout.

Sometimes, the abundance comes in ways you never see coming.

 I’ve found that guiding isn’t necessarily conducive to a thriving garden – and that’s ok. Through the practice of gardening and guiding, I have learned that sometimes we need to accept what we can’t control, to have utmost grace and kindness not only for ourselves but for the living beings around us, be they plants or people. Gardening and guiding have shown me the importance of self-care, knowing that when you strive to take care of yourself, the yields of your bountiful relationships are that much sweeter. Gardening and guiding have shared with me the power of patience for others, yes, but particularly for my own growth.

 Sometimes your crops don’t work out, sometimes the outfitter you work for just isn’t right for you, or the schedule of guiding/harvesting doesn’t really jam with your needs, or your relationships wither as you pursue your dreams under the sunlight, or you totally botch the beans you were trying to trellis. And that’s ok. Loving yourself enough to let these things be ok, is ok.

I can’t say this enough – sometimes the abundance comes in ways you never see coming. Giving yourself the compassion to learn and grow is really what it’s all about.

 So – what will you harvest from this season? What lessons are ready to grow with you? What are you ready to leave behind knowing that it isn’t the crop for you? How can you ‘close up your garden’ for the season to ensure you’re preparing for the next one? What seeds do you sow next, what moves will you make to keep yourself growing and perpetuating? How will you allow yourself to lay fallow and rest this winter?

 Ask yourself these questions – because you are a garden. Every year, no matter what, your soil gets richer. You become more fertile with potential. You gain more wisdom and experience. Your development may be incremental, but it is profound. Even when we feel like we’re neglecting aspects of our lives, there is movement, growth, and wisdom hard at work. Plants grow slowly but with intention. Sometimes we can direct the ideas and goals we plant, and sometimes we cannot. Some crops will work, and some will not. Some relationships will flourish, and others will not. But I promise you, you are growing.

 I planted garlic this fall, knowing once again it will take root.

• By Sara Ruth Sweeney

Prove Me Wrong

No one was around the ARTA guide house in Salmon when I arrived this spring to start my season guiding on the Selway River in Idaho. I walked into the office to peruse the schedule.

“She did it, its finally happened”, I said out loud to myself at seeing the board. Cortni, our manager, had scheduled an all ladies crew for the second Selway launch on June 30, 2022. On the Selway River this was definitely a first at ARTA, although I had been on a couple of trips with a 3 female to 1 male ratio crew.

I immediately started to wonder how our passengers would feel. In my experience sometimes it’s our lady passengers who think they require a big strong guy to get them safely down the river. Over the years I have endlessly heard male passengers comment that they were surprised us little ladies could maneuver such a big heavy boat. I thought about how all male crews were standard in this industry until relatively recent times.

In my guiding career I have been the token female on the crew countless times.

In close to 30 years of guiding the only all women crews I have been a part of were on all women-chartered trips. This particular roster of passengers was a near 50-50 split between genders. ‘Well good, it’s about time, should be interesting’, are a few of the thoughts that went through my mind. I wondered how to introduce the crew.

Should I immediately draw attention to the fact they had all women guides or let it go until someone said something? ‘Hmmm, fun experiment no doubt’.

The four of us ladies piled into the rig truck bound for the Selway. We headed out of Salmon all smiles and laughter. We were celebrating this ARTA first and proud for the opportunity. It’s maybe not a huge deal, but then it kind of was to us. At the top of Nez Perce Pass we pulled over to take in the scenery and stretch our legs before dropping down into the Selway River drainage. A vast wilderness spread out in all directions. Since Lewis and Clark paved the way for settlers, this land’s history has been dominated by the presence of men pursuing the likes of trapping, prospecting, logging and more. It occurred to me that in all actuality this was not just ARTA’s first all-women Selway crew. Most likely we were the first all women crew to lead any commercial trip on this river.

Thinking about the outfitters who have held permits past and present I am 99% positive that we are the first! When out passengers stepped off the bus at the Paradise Creek put-in the following afternoon I gathered them around to introduce the crew. “Hi! My name is Billie Prosser and I am your trip leader. I am honored to introduce you to your crew. This is Kelly Asselin, Isabel Guthrie and Hannah Woods. We are the first all women crew to guide a commercially lead Selway River trip ever.

“How do you know that”? asked a man passenger. I answered with a huge smile, “I just do”.

So maybe it’s not that big a deal, but I think it is pretty cool and a little noteworthy. Please, if I am wrong I would like to know. And by the way, it was a fantastic trip

enjoyed by all.

-Billie Prosser

Beyond the Surface of a River

“Had you been in this spot thousands of years ago, when the frigid fingers of the great ice cap dammed the Clark Fork, creating Glacial Lake Missoula, you would be witness to a very different landscape, one with hundreds of feet of water over head. In a single day, perhaps even in a matter of minutes, those massive glacial walls that retained the millions of cubic miles of water, suffered a catastrophic collapse, draining the lake in mere hours.

The author checking out the river - Benjamin Powell

We intently listened to our guide as we meandered down a calm stretch of the Clark Fork river. His demeanor was captivating, with long grey hair that reflected the sunlight, a wide-brimmed straw hat, which had become sun bleached from his countless hours of adventure, and dark tanned skin with lean muscle that flexed as he dipped his paddle into the water. All of which spoke to his experience guiding guests down this turbulent stretch of white water, known as the Alberton Gorge, in Western Montana. From my perspective, he was the quintessential guide, the kind that is conjured in the minds of those who have ever considered these types of river characters.

We pulled into a giant eddy at the base of these massive purple cliffs, and his stories continued. “These huckleberry cliffs, and the gorge we are about to enter, were all formed and carved by the deluge of water that rushed out of Montana as glacial lake Missoula drained.

Rafts on the Clark Fork River, MT- Benjamin Powell

As the eddy circled our raft under the thousand-foot escarpments, we could faintly make out a distant roar and our guide’s demeanor shifted. He reiterated the importance of listening to the paddle commands, and that to make it through these next sections of rapids it was, “Imperative that we set ourselves up in the correct position, to have the most excitement possible, while also remaining safe.
“I’ve always likened the river to life” he said. “Sometimes when things get hectic you just need a break, a moment to sit back, rest, and reflect on where you’ve been and where you’re going. This eddy is that for us”. “Further upstream, there are no dams on the Clark Fork, because of that, the river levels fluctuate daily, and I get to see something new every time I make a run, kinda how each day is different than the last in all your lives.

As the water made one last circulation of our raft back to the head of the eddy, our guide nosed the boat at a 45-degree angle to the oncoming current and said, “There comes a time when action is required, and we must leave our individual comforts.” With that he called, “All forward”. Our paddles struck the water at the same time and we pushed out into the main flow of the river.

The current grabbed us, and the speed of the boat picked up as we progressed down river amidst these giant granite walls of the gorge. It was as if we were ants navigating deep cracks along a sidewalk. Inside the raft, excitement and nervousness was the atmosphere, we had no idea what was coming; yet our guide maneuvered us in a way that instilled confidence, and to some extent, calmed our nerves. He had positioned us on the left side of the river, and we entered a brief calm stretch, in which we passed 300ft below the bridges that supported interstate 90.

Alberton Gorge, MT - Benjamin Powell

 “We can’t control the river,” he said, “just as life can’t be controlled, but we can perform to the best of our ability and position ourselves in a way that is most beneficial to our traverse.”
His words echoed in my mind as the realization quickly came that the horizon line dropped out of view, and we couldn’t see the river beyond. He was calm, and with swift movements, he kept the boat positioned where he wanted it.

Within moments the roar of the whitewater drowned out all other noises, and with a clear bark, our guide yelled, “All forward!”. We accelerated down the tongue and into the trough as the oncoming wave loomed higher above our heads. With an impact, our boat launched into the face, displacing the curled water across our bodies, and for a moment, the bitterly cold liquid stole our breath.

“Keep going!” he yelled as he leaned out over the water and drove his paddle deep beneath the surface. After a few more large waves, we heard another yell, “Take a break!”. We rode the progressively smaller waves like a rollercoaster until the current quieted. Our guide informed us that we had just experienced what can be related to a “Turbulent period of life.” “After you’re through it, those moments that previously conveyed fear, morph into excitement and stories that you will recollect with your friends and family.” With a grin he claimed that, “the river still draws us forward, there are bigger and more turbulent trials to come, use this moment to reflect upon your successes and mistakes, to build upon your skills, both mentally and physically, and to prepare for the next.” As the walls of the gorge closed in tighter and rose higher, the rapids continued to get bigger and larger, dwarfing our raft like a lone rider disappearing between the rolling hills of the forgotten prairie.
We had come to trust our guide and not second guess his positioning of the raft. As we came to one of the final sections of white water, our guide informed us, “This is the largest and most dangerous section.”
It was here that the river was confined to its narrowest width, like a spray nozzle on a hose, and that to make it through safely, we had to perform a few precise movements and execute an effective traverse from one side of the river, through large rapids, to the other, and prepare for our final drop past a large hole that will, “eat a boat up and flip us if we make the wrong approach”. “Pay close attention to my commands, even if I say take a break, stay prepared to dig right back in, don’t relax until I say it is safe to do so.”

“All forward!” he yelled, and we began our movements. The current swiftly carried us towards a sizable wave train, and we heard an array of commands like, “forward 3”, “left forward”, “all forward”, “all back”, and “take a break but stay ready”.

As the huge hole loomed and the walls closed in, our boat gained even more speed, and the final “all forward” was called. We accelerated right in between boat ripping rocks, like the jagged teeth of some mythical beast that once inhabited that glacial lake and a hole that resembled its gaping mouth.

Rafting the Alberton Gorge- Benjamin Powell

At that moment, I lost focus, forgot to pay attention to the guide’s instructions, and was mesmerized by Medusa’s head. The guide’s commands were distantly heard but not recognized, and in my hubris, the following massive wall of whitewater struck my face like a belly flop off a high dive. Instantly, I was lifted from my seat and washed into the turbulent waters. The lights from the surface of the river faded into a dark enveloping mass, with currents pulling at me from every direction, more ferociously than a shark attacking its prey. In these moments, as I was being washed to the gullet of that whale, the metaphors and analogies spoken by the guide took deep root in my consciousness. Much of what he had said replayed in my mind, his persona and the way he related the river to life, somehow gave me a sense of calm. What seemed like a lifetime were mere seconds, and before long, I resurfaced with a gasp, and spotted the raft. Our guide was pointing at me and directing me where to swim. Within moments I felt his hands grasp my life vest, and with a swift movement, he had me back in the bottom of the boat laughing and cognizing the relationship of the statement, “flop and giggle.”

Looking into the Gorge - Benjamin Powell

Once my composure was regained and everyone was situated back in their positions, our guide administered one more piece of wisdom. “The raft is a metaphor for our bodies, and you, the guests, are the reason and willpower; the guide is but a deeper conscious understanding; it is not one piece individually that will carry us through life, but the balanced application of all. That is what permits us the safest passage through the trials and tribulations of this adventure. When one aspect falls out of the boat, the most effective course of action is to maintain understanding and composure, return to the boat, and keep paddling downstream. Sure, we can take an eddy for a moment of rest and relaxation, but the river, or life, is always running and won’t stop just because you want a break. You can’t stay in that eddy forever.

To get to the end, to make it to the takeout, the best way is to enjoy the ride, pay attention to that higher conscious instinct, and build upon your experiences. Then… pass on your knowledge to those who have yet to take the trip.”

As I reflect on that day, both the river and our guide taught me much about life. It was an experience that has shaped me deeper than most, one that is viewed as the greatest form of mentorship never pursued, a history lesson never sought, a swim that has engrained a deeper conscious understanding and a faith that within us is a guide, who knows, and has seen the way.

• By Benjmin Powell

End of a Great Day on the River- Benjamin Powell

Therapy

I graduated from EMDR Therapy on Tuesday and I feel fine.  

When I walked into her office in December of 2020 my therapist asked me two questions. The first was, “Why are you here?” My answer was swift and direct, “I want to know why I’m an alcoholic.” The second question was, “What do you think is the cornerstone of your sobriety?” Another prompt response from me, “The Dogsmile mission.”  

At that time I had been sober for just over a year and had recently completed the journey of a lifetime. I was driven by a deep sense of purpose, but was also being chased by an unrelenting demon. The fear of relapse was like a black cloud that followed me wherever I went. My previous therapist, who I was assigned to in rehab, had stuck with me on my journey until I landed in Idaho where she wasn’t legally allowed to practice.  Her last bit of advice was, “Jon, seek out an EMDR therapist.” So I did.  

EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. Google defines it as, “A structured therapy that encourages the patient to briefly focus on the trauma memory while simultaneously experiencing bilateral stimulation (typically eye movements), which is associated with a reduction in the vividness and emotion associated with the trauma memories.” In my experience, I sat in a chair with my eyes closed holding two small paddles in my hands. I was asked to hold a traumatic image in my mind and breathe while the paddles vibrated alternately. I could feel my eyes move with the vibration while my heart cracked wide open.  

The results of my bi-weekly sessions were numerous and often intense. Some came immediately, while others came hours or even days after a session. While the intensity and duration of my responses varied, the theme was completely consistent: relief. Weight was being lifted.  

EMDR didn’t erase my shitty experiences from memory. Instead, it forced me to look right at them and accept that they played a large role in who I’ve become. It was exhausting at times and even a little scary; but the relief was worth the work. It always is.

The last question my therapist asked me on Tuesday was,  “Is the Dogsmile mission still the cornerstone of your sobriety?” My answer was a swift and a little surprising No. It’s grown much deeper than a compassionate mission. The thing I’ve learned through EMDR along with many hours of meditation over the past year and a half is that the cornerstone of my sobriety is the quality of my attention. Meditation taught me that the quality of my attention is significantly more important than what’s actually happening. Therefore, the moment I dull my attention, aka getting drunk or high, the quality of my experience is diminished, no matter where, what, or with whom I’m interacting. When I choose to stay sober, I choose to associate authentically with the world around me, and that my friends is the most beautiful buzz available.

If you’ve read this far, you likely give a shit. We all have demons. Don’t compare yours to anyone else’s. Being able to find someone else who’s had it worse than you doesn’t mean you haven’t suffered. There’s no medal for “Most Pain Endured.” The victory lies in helping yourself and those in your community. Remember that empathy without action is just another thought; but empathy inspired action is compassion, and compassion is our only chance.  

Jon Totten is the founder of Dogsmile Adventures, a therapeutic sailing program in Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho, as well as a member of the Redside Foundation Board of Directors.  For more information about the Dogsmile mission visit: www.dogsmileaventures.org  To contact Jon directly email: hello@dogsmileadventures.org 

Returning ‘Home’.

The Middle Fork of the Salmon River has stolen my heart.

Fifteen seasons of river guiding in various places has allowed me the time and space to know this river is my home. I love how she changes after we leave her alone all winter. The smell of burned soil, purple lupine and fresh rain churn together; butterflies in our stomachs at Boundary Creek. It’s time to return home.

I often wonder, why is “The Church” our home? Is it because of the community, my chosen family? Yes. It is where bloodlines and lineage have new meaning – where gnarled Ponderosa roots dig in and clear, freshwater veins run deep.

Where your fly is tugged by a beautiful cutthroat as you feel warm water massage your shoulders.

Where we get to share our bedroom with thousands of good people, showing them the magic. This is where we grow up, fall in love, and heal our wounds. We are the lucky ones.

Yet sometimes home can become stagnant. How do we find a fresh outlook in a familiar place? How can we keep that magic alive? To feel rejuvenated, to grow, to fall in love with her again...

In August of 2019, I was invited on a Middle Fork trip with a group of Shoshone-Bannock families. Jessica and Sammy Matsaw are cultivating a culture of authentic connection where their Sheepeater ancestors come from. Their children are forming a personal relationship to their roots, by returning to their land, while experiencing the river through traditional ways of knowing.

My responsibility on this trip was on-water safety and running first, and humbly, I felt comfortable in that role. But what took me by surprise was letting go of time. I don’t wear a watch, but guides don’t need one to be able to tell what “time” it is: time to load up, time to take down the groover, time to stop for a snack or lunch, swim or hike. We have this idea of a river time schedule – gotta feed the people every six hours, get to camp by 4:30 for happy hour, then change into cotton and start cooking dinner “on time.” The truth is we have always pulled it off.

The irony is guides say they “go with the flow,” but do we really?

What if we as guides let go of time out there, and completely rethought our connection to the river and each other? How much do we actually cultivate and model that mentality? What if we encouraged guests to play as these Shoshone kids – in and out of the river as long as the sun was up. Sand in every crevice, shivering from being wet all day, grabbing a sandwich for dinner in the dark with the biggest grin.

As we overlooked Underwater Canyon one morning, one of the parents said: “This place is always here for you. Just like medicine, this river is just that for us. Whenever you need to come home, you can.” So, the next time we are able to return, we must remember how, indeed, the river is our medicine.

What will we give back to her, as she gives us so much?

 Essay and photos  by Tess McEnroe 

Is It “Angry August” or Are You Burnt Out?

An in-depth examination and resource for the outdoor guiding industry to identify, address, and prevent burnout in the workplace. 

Written and compiled by Carly Knudson

Every professional guide knows that feeling. It's nearing the end of a long season and everything feels more difficult. You’re tired mentally, physically, socially and spiritually; you’re sick of your coworkers; you’re sick of your clients; you start wondering what brought you here in the first place. You are dreaming about air conditioning and watching mindless TV on a couch… any couch will do. 

For multi-day river guides, it may look something like this: 

With twelve week-long trips under your belt with few-to-no days off, you have started sneaking hot dogs in the kitchen instead of eating steak dinners with the guests, your interp sounds like a sad broken record player, you feel like you might plot a murder of your coworker if you hear their version of John Denver’s “Country Roads” around the fire one more time, you realize dragging your boat through the Lake Creek shallows in your Carharts just isn’t as cute and funny as it once was, and the only joke you feel like you’re telling anymore is your response when guests ask you: “So, what do you do for a real job?” 

Guiding provides us with a sense of purpose, place, passion, and clarity that few (if any) occupations can match. It presents and requires a spectrum of skills that are practical, dynamic, engaging, and multidimensional. We love what we do, our “offices” exist in some of the coolest places on the planet, some of our closest, life-long friends are also our co-workers, we get to share our love for wild spaces, and somehow, all while getting paid for it! We are consistently praised by our clients and people with “normal” jobs about how interesting, admirable, and bold our life and work is, some even threatening to quit their job as a stock broker for a career change to join us next season. 

So… why are so many of us guides so burnt out?

Amidst the joy, glamour, and perks that the life of a guide holds, the realities of this industry have real consequences and sacrifices that are being increasingly talked about as mental health concerns are slowly becoming de-stigmatized in our community (see one example in Outdoor Magazine’s recent article). Despite the fact that outdoor recreation is one of the nation’s largest economic sectors and the demand for outdoor leaders and professionals is booming now more than ever, guide and guide-related turnover is high, leaving many outfitters struggling to find and maintain qualified professionals. While guiding is often seen as an idyllic and enviable lifestyle, as an industry we have historically flaunted “no days off” as a badge of honor. There are expectations of putting in 15+ hour work days, and juggling roles as entertainers, line cooks, servers, skilled outdoor navigators, weight lifters, medics, coaches, babysitters, inspirational speakers and tour guide extraordinaires. When matched with little sleep, substance use and abuse norms, precarious seasonal work, built-in systemic hierarchies, and a “don’t ask don’t tell’ mental health culture, it is no surprise that many of us experience the workplace phenomenon of burnout.

While most guides need little convincing of the fact that burnout exists within our culture, it seems apparent that the conversation and expectations associated with it are due for a reexamination. For generations, burnout in the guiding industry has been considered just another aspect of the job, and any sort of questioning of the hierarchies, job roles, work-life balance, and unsustainability of it all is seen as someone who is “just not cut out” for the exclusive club of super-human guiding warriors. (Guides don’t get hungry, sick, tired, cold, hot, scared, etc.) Tireless hard work during the season is just another sacrifice for the glamorous lifestyle choices that comes with being a guide. If you don’t like it, just do something else! 

Unfortunately, for many of us, “just doing something else,” isn’t that simple. We love the places we work, we love our jobs, we love our coworkers, we care about the places we work and the people we share them with.  Many of us feel that we have few options outside of guiding, not having the capacity for “normal” 9-5 jobs and two week vacation time and not wanting to lose our identity and camaraderie that guiding offers. And for that, the pure undying love and passion for our work, we often sacrifice stability, security, our health, and sometimes lose sight of what brought us to this line of work in the first place. We continue season after season in a state of burnout. This burnout cycle not only impacts the guides as individuals, but also impacts outfitters who are having to replace, retrain, and retain new guides in a highly specialized profession.

At the end of the day, guiding is our occupation, and no matter how much you do it for the love of the outdoors, sport, lifestyle, etc., you should still be able to ask for the tools and resources that you need to succeed as a healthy and effective employee. Throughout this resource, I will explain from a seasonal/ guide lens what “burnout” in the workplace is, how it manifests, how to identify it, factors that contribute to it, and consider some potential solutions to address burnout in the guiding community. 

What is burnout?

What’s commonly referred to in the river guiding community as “Angry August,” has a more clinical definition that is becoming increasingly researched as a serious health and well-being threat to individuals. What’s known as “burnout” is probably something you’ve heard colloquially spoken before, but is a concept that was originally coined in the 1970’s to refer to workplace exhaustion due to chronic stress, high ideals, high demands, and lack of (perceived or real) support. 

A majority of studies have examined burnout in the “helping professions” such as with healthcare providers and educators. However, the concept is being discovered more frequently in all sorts of other professions, such as in elite athletes, coaches, first responders, and service industry workers. And lucky for us guides, we fit into the “all of the above” category! 

Burnout has been defined as a psychological condition with three main components:

1. Exhaustion (emotional) is a fatigue that can come from caring too much, for too long. This is different from feeling “tired” after a long day of work: it’s more chronic and less attributable to specific causes. For guides, as being members of the “helper” and “giver” professions in an intense, demanding schedule, many of us deeply understand this feeling.

2. Depersonalization or cynicism is the depletion of empathy, caring, and compassion. For guides, this may manifest in feelings towards clients, other guides and personal relationships, or your outfitter.

3. Decreased sense of accomplishment is an unconquerable sense of futility, or feeling that nothing you do makes any difference. Though many of us start a trip or a season with feelings of stewardship, a clear sense of purpose and passion for the place, goals for the season, etc., as time goes on these feelings often diminish.

Distinguishing between burnout and other similar conditions:

Burnout can manifest in many different ways, but is generally experienced in the form of emotional/ psychological symptoms. It is often associated with feelings of cynicism, decline in workplace motivation, performance, and participation, increases in emotional volatility, strife in social relationships, and physical complications relating to chronic stress. There is also evidence revealing that there are gender-differences in burnout, in which the research notes that people that identify as women often experience burnout as emotional exhaustion, and people that identify as men experienced it more often as feeling lack of productivity and workplace satisfaction.   

Workplace stress, on the other hand, is experienced as physical symptoms, and is a short term state that usually manifests as overproductivity, anxiousness, hyper-active or urgent behavior (ie. a guide that feels as though you need to be constantly working to “prove yourself” to your team and outfitter.) Stress that is not properly acknowledged or dealt with can lead to chronic stress, which in the workplace can turn into burnout. More severe states of traumatic stress can manifest as stress injuries such as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. 

A similar condition that is often associated with burnout is a concept known as compassion fatigue. Compassion fatigue can make it feel difficult to feel empathy, or “numb” to a patient/ client's needs. This is often due to consistent exposure to direct and indirect trauma, stress, or constant tending to the needs of others. Compassion fatigue is often seen in first responders, people in mental health professions, or other medical professions, but is also being identified more commonly in other areas of work.

Unchecked chronic stress and/ or burnout has been shown to have potential to progress into more serious mental health problems such as anxiety and depressive disorders, as well as chronic physical problems. While severity and symptom expression varies greatly between individuals, these are more long-term conditions with mood regulation difficulties, feelings of worthlessness or hopelessness, difficulties concentrating or sleeping, physical problems such as chronic aches and pains, or suicidal thoughts and tendencies. 

Guide-specific factors (stressors) contributing to burnout:  

Factors that have been consistently identified in the workplace that contribute to burnout include lack of control, unclear job expectations, dysfunctional workplace dynamics, extremes of activity, lack of social support, work-life imbalances, high job demands and expectations, and feeling a lack of mastery or opportunities for development. However, when reading or listening to most discussions about occupational burnout, there are very few that can accurately conceptualize the unique factors that encompass a professional outdoor guiding career (many state that “going outside more” and “exercising more frequently” are the best burnout solutions). While there are some professions that have more parallels than an office job, such as nursing, firefighters and first responders, athletes, or military personnel, there is not much research at this point that provides solutions that are catered to our unique lifestyles and circumstances. 

With combining personal stories, anonymous polls, individual guide interviews and anecdotes with existing burnout research, I have compiled a list of industry-specific factors that contribute to guides’ burnout experiences. Below, I have categorized them to examine how these unique experiences might relate to existing evidence-based burnout factors. Many will most likely hold to be more true to some than others based on personal experiences of burnout, length and type of season, who they work for, their relationship with their company, what type of guiding they’re doing, how long they’ve been guiding, their background, or access to additional resources. For more in-depth examples of these factors, check out our Redside Foundation “Burnout Companion Guide.”

Lack of Control. “Control” can be conceptualized in a number of ways; whether it be the inherent dynamics of working for someone else (pay rates, job placement), or more complex, guide-specific factors that are out of our control such as environmental factors and aspects that come along with seasonal work, such as job, housing, or community insecurity. Feelings of lack of control may also come with the inability to filter the types of client interactions we are encountering, or feeling like you are part of a “serving” class/ position.

Unclear/ High Job Demands and Expectations. While existing literature has two separate categories for “unclear job expectations” and “high job demands and expectations,” I find the guiding profession has overlap between the two, of an often unspoken pressure to continuously work hard, while not communicating when enough is enough. There are jokes of guides asking how to do tasks, and being told to “follow their hearts,” or poking fun by asking “you’re not going to do it that way are you?” While it’s mostly in good jest, these sorts of behaviors and attitudes add up over time. There are sometimes additional ambiguities within companies such as who qualifies for which pay scale, how to work in different regions or with different job positions and development opportunities, what is expected from you as a guide, etc. 

Dysfunctional Workplace Dynamics. Being fairly broad and open to interpretation, this varies greatly depending on an individual’s outfitter and company policies. There are also some inherent, systemic problems built into the guiding industry that could fit in this category. Some examples may include work expectations and lack of bandwidth causing sacrifice of personal health, feeling exploited as a guide or working with a crew/ outfitter that does not respect you. Other organizational issues may stem from taboos of taking personal time, discussing personal issues, or having personal needs. Additionally, there may be the stress of navigating inherent systemic oppression based on race, class, gender, sexual orientation, ability, etc. that lead to barriers to entering and fairly navigating within the industry.

Extremes of Activity. Guiding itself is often extreme in multiple capacities: length of our work day, lack of breaks and quick turnaround time between trips, demanding emotional and physical labor, juggling between roles as a guide, and  lack of work/ life balance during a season. This is often described as feeling like a guide always has to be “on”.

Lack of Social Support. Whether it be personal relationships outside of our work life or with dynamics between guides and outfitters, social support is an essential aspect to feeling seen, heard, and respected in a workplace. There are at times limited or lack of direct communication between guides or between guides and outfitters. Additionally, social connection and community can be difficult and complicated for seasonal employees, as many of us have multiple communities that are difficult to stay in touch with during the guiding season, and vice versa in the off-season.

Work-Life Imbalances. With the inherent nature of the work, it seems to be many guide’s MO to “work during the season, and live during the off-season.” For many of us, there is an inherent connection between a love of the outdoors, our profession, our personal life, and our identities, and there are blurred lines between our “work” and “life.” While there is both beauty and sacrifice with this fact and with seasonal work, some of the “life” sacrifices that are made during the working season are apparent contributing factors to burnout. With little personal time during the season, examples may include compromise of physical health routines such as diet, exercise, skin care, psychological care, dental care, physical health check ups, or lack of social support and connection. In guiding, there are also high rates of substance use that are considered a norm in the culture. 

Feeling Lack of Mastery/ Challenge/ Opportunities for Development. When first entering the guiding industry, it feels as though there are many milestones to accomplish- whether it be gaining status and compensation for being a lead guide, working in a certain location, obtaining certifications, and perhaps even gaining experience in a different discipline for year-round guiding employment. However, once you feel like you have nowhere else to go, this can contribute to key components of burnout: feeling a decreased sense of accomplishment or purpose, as well as a sense of lack of control. 

Guide-specific solutions for combating burnout:

When considering addressing stress and burnout, there are multiple layers to consider. Based upon concepts from the work done by the Nagoski sisters in their book “Burnout,” while the first step includes understanding what burnout is, how it manifests in your body, and which factors contribute to your burnout experience, your solutions will be multifaceted. Not only will you need to come up with a plan to handle your stressors, but you will also need to figure out how to address your stress itself. 

Recognizing that there is a difference between what is stressing you out and how your body is reacting to the stress are essential components of taking the steps to addressing burnout. Strategies for dealing with stressors are most likely not going to deal with your body’s manifestation of the physical, emotional, and mental impacts of stress, and vice versa. While dealing with stress will often be a more personal, self-care type of work, addressing stressors is a more “top-down” sort of approach. 

While some factors that contribute are controllable as a guide, many will be inherently out of your control as an individual, and are systemic, organizational, or environmental. How you deal with a controllable stressor will look differently than uncontrollable stressors. 

(For a guided worksheet to deeper explore your burnout experience, including more in-depth examples of factors contributing to burnout, and guide-specific ideas for solutions, see our Redside Foundation Burnout Companion Guide.)

Addressing controllable stressors- planful problem solving. 

Planful problem solving entails situations in which a problem presents that is within your control as an individual guide and crew member. When deeming a problem as “solvable,” you are able to make a plan to change or address the issue from a top-down approach. Solutions often come from effective and direct communication, being open and honest with yourself, your coworkers, and your employer, creating self-care routines, or utilizing or creating resources. It may feel overwhelming to try and address everything all at once, so it can be helpful to try to focus on a few that feel like they are most contributing to your workplace stress and burnout. Below is a broad list of solutions to common problems associated with guide burnout.

Grasp a greater sense of control in the profession. Grasping a sense of control often comes with effective and direct communication with your employer and coworkers as to understand job expectations, pay scales, etc (see below, “clarify job demands and expectations). Additionally, planning for seasonal instability (financial plans, housing, community building, off-season employment) may help gain a sense of security. 

Clarify job demands and expectations. Whether it is your pay scale, positions of leadership, how an outfitter or trip leader wants a certain task completed, when it is okay to take breaks and for how long, etc., guiding is an occupation, (no matter how fun it is!) and ambiguity is not usually the best approach. Though this job often encourages a kind of “learn as you go and gain experience” tactic, this can often lead to miscommunications and hard feelings between guides and with outfitters, spoken or not. Informal 15-30 minute breaks where you hang out and check-in within your crew, having pre/ post trip meetings, or asking for formal outlines of company policies are all possible helpful solutions.

Build strong social support systems. Social support and a sense of strong community is one of the key factors to building resiliency, combating burnout, and contributes to mental and physical health outcomes. As many of us have multiple communities, it is important to make an effort to connect those close to us within our industry, and outside of our industry. Additionally, finding a company and crew that is supportive, equitable, respectful, and aligns with your personal values is extremely valuable. Acting as a role model and advocate within your team may also prove to set an example for others, that it is okay for people to have bad days, make mistakes, take a break, etc. 

Work to create more of a work-life balance throughout the season. Working to create “work-life balance” can be a little more complicated for guides, as many of us consider our work to be our life/ identity. However, sustainability within this career calls for recognition that we are not invincible, we all have human needs, and at the end of a day, this is a job, and we still need to take care of ourselves and know how much to invest. Integrating, short, attainable self-care routines, monitoring or cutting back on substance use, and taking breaks when we need it (short breaks during trips, and taking weeks off if financially feasible) are all ways to work towards this. 

Find opportunities for personal growth and development. Both inside of guiding and outside of guiding, experiencing challenges and opportunities for growth and development help to keep the profession interesting and dynamic. Try to communicate with your outfitter and team about goals you may have as a guide; new skills you want to improve at; leadership, instructional, or mentorship roles you may want to have; or different rivers, yurts, hunting zones, or guiding regions you want to work in. You may also get to a point that you want to get creative or look for greater, more extreme versions of change, such as guiding in a completely new discipline or area or for a new outfitter, transitioning to a more off-water/ managerial role, outfitting yourself, starting your own business or trade, or a total career change. These feelings and transitions are normal, and whether you feel you are “burned out” or not, we all come to a time in our lives when transitions occur. 

Addressing uncontrollable stressors- positive reappraisal. 

Positive reappraisal techniques entail situations in which a problem presents that is not within your control as an individual guide and crew member, and is usually industrial or organizational. In “Burnout: The Secret to Completing the Stress Cycle,” (Nagoski, E. & Nagoski, A.) positive reappraisal is determined to mean that “deciding that the effort, the discomfort, the frustration, the unanticipated obstacles, and even the repeated failure have value- not just because they are steps toward a worthwhile goal, but because you reframe the difficulties as opportunities for growth and learning.” This is reminding yourself of the reasons you are here in the first place as a guide, remembering what keeps you going, practicing gratitude, etc. Within uncontrollable stressors, learning and practicing ways to deal with the stress itself will also likely prove to be beneficial.

Checking in and reminding yourself why guiding is important (to you, society, clients, etc.) Whether it be the nature of the work, occupational flexibility, the ability to work outside, opportunities for education and stewardship, etc., try and remember what brought you to guiding in the first place. What keeps you going and in the industry? What inherent values does guiding and our profession bring to the people we serve/ society?

Remembering the unique, dynamic, skill sets that guiding requires. And that it is a legitimate career! Sometimes, no matter what your position is or what your background is, it is difficult to feel validated in our industry when clients, peers, family, and society directly or indirectly ask when we are going to “get a real job.” It is easy to forget how many incredible skills guiding requires and grants you with, and that many people just honestly can’t conceptualize what a career or lifestyle looks like outside of a year-round, 9-5 position. It does not mean you are” less than” or “doing it wrong”, it means you are creative, passionate, and adaptable!

Reminding yourself of personal values and goals. Personal goal setting is an extremely valuable tool in combating burnout. Setting attainable, realistic, and simple goals for your season, your career as a guide, and in your lifetime are good check-in exercises to employ. Additionally, continuing to show up for your personal values in the workplace is extremely beneficial. 

Recognize the strengths that you already have to combat stress, burnout, and adversity (ie, resiliency!) We all have inherent traits and characteristics that make us adaptable, strong, and able to handle difficult situations. (Check out a character strengths test here.) Some of our strengths may be different than our crew members, and it may be helpful to recognize that while you may be very graceful with your social skills and leadership abilities, another guide may excel in other places, such as in bravery and perseverance. Learning to lean into your strengths and how to work together as a team can prove to be incredibly beneficial in combating burnout. 

Work on gratitude and self-compassion practices. Gratitude has been scientifically proven to improve mental and physical health, sleep quality, relationship strength, self-esteem, resilience, and help to combat stress and burnout. Simply writing down or acknowledging a few things you are grateful for may seem simple, but goes a long way. Additionally, positive self-talk, giving yourself permission to feel stress, burnout, other feelings, and recognizing stressors can help to validate your experiences. 

Validating stress, emotions, discomfort, and conflicts. It is important for us to be advocates for the guiding industry that we want to see. A lot of what may contribute to stress and burnout in our industry is the fact that burnout, stress, and hardships within guiding are often not talked about, which can feel very isolating. Along with practicing self-compassion, it can be very helpful to find someone you trust, whether it be a coworker, another person in the industry, or a person in your company’s management to discuss feelings of conflict and burnout. Remember that if you are feeling burnt out, odds are people around you are also feeling similarly. It is usually simpler to acknowledge and change unhealthy dynamics as they occur rather than letting them build up over time and turn into colossal, complex issues.

*Bonus: Planful Problem Solving Meets “Uncontrollable Stressors:” If there are larger, systemic issues that feel out of your control as an individual guide or with your outfitter, there are always opportunities for teamwork and collective action to advocate for issues that you feel strongly about. Whether it be bringing up issues to your outfitter, organizations within the industry, or contacting local policy makers, multiple voices are louder than one. 

Dealing with the stress itself:

Just because you recognized or managed a stressor does not mean that you have dealt with the stress itself. Your body cannot distinguish between actual, physical stress and emotional/ mental stress, and often will hold onto the stress with physical symptoms until it can recognize that the stressor is no longer a threat. How one deals with stress depends greatly on how stress manifests in your body (check back to burnout signs and symptoms), the resources you have, your personality type, etc. 

One way to signal to your body that a stressor is no longer a threat is to try and “complete the stress cycle,” with an intentional action or behavior. Examples of this shown to help include intentional, physical movement or exercise, intentional, slowed, deep breathing, positive social interaction, deep, belly laughter, creativity, or displays of affection. For more information on what a stress cycle is, listen to or read the Nagoski sisters work on burnout and the stress cycle. 

• Other suggestions to cope with stress from the CDC include:

  • Physical health routines (Diet, exercise, sleep, taking breaks, avoiding excessive substance use)

  • Emotional/ mental health routines (Journaling, gratitude practices, meditation/ mindfulness practices, communicating with others about conflicts/ feelings) 

  • Connecting with community

How does all of this relate to resilience?

Resilience is one of the most effective tools shown to combat burnout, and broadly refers to the ability to handle and cope with stress, stressors, and adversity. Being resilient does not mean that people don’t experience stress, emotional upheaval, or suffering, but that they have the tools to deal with it in a healthy way. Many of our suggested “tips and tricks” for stress and stressors also help build resilience: such as social engagement, self-awareness and self-care, attention and focus, finding meaning/ purpose, and having a “growth mindset.” Other ideas include engagement in service, self-reflection, being connected to others, and having opportunities for self-efficacy and mastery. Note: Redside offers multiple opportunities for guides to develop resilience, including workshops with the Responder Alliance. If you, your outfitter, or your crew may be interested in additional information, contact us.  

Moving Beyond the Guide

Though many previous interventions focus on the individual, it is important to note that many contributing factors to burnout occur on a systems-level. It is important to take care of both the person and the job by strengthening and taking care of the individual and also balancing the demands and resources of the job. This means approaching the topic of burnout as a collaborative, supportive, and compassionate team effort between guides, outfitters, and industry leaders. Throughout this article are ideas based on feedback I have received from various companies, outfitters, and guides. In order to see real, meaningful, and lasting change in an industry that is long overdue, it will take strategic planning, creativity, respect, effective and thoughtful communication and feedback, and the continual building and utilization of support systems within our community. 

For additional resources and access to our downloadable Burnout Companion Guide, check out our burnout resource page.

References:

Copeland, D. (2021). Brief workplace interventions addressing burnout, compassion fatigue, and teamwork: A pilot study. Western Journal of Nursing Research, 43(2). https://doi.org/10.1177/0193945920938048

Gottschall, Shannon, and Eva Guérin. “Organizational and Non-Organizational Risk and Resilience Factors Associated with Mental Health and Well-Being in the Royal Canadian Navy.” Current Psychology, 2021, https://doi.org/10.1007/s12144-021-01508-x. 

Hall, Justin, and Jeremy Jostad. “Turnover of Outdoor Adventure Education Field Staff.” Journal of Outdoor Recreation, Education, and Leadership, vol. 12, no. 2, 2020, https://doi.org/10.18666/jorel-2020-v12-i2-9853. 

Kolaski, Alexandra Z., and Jennifer M. Taylor. “Critical Factors for Field Staff: The Relationship between Burnout, Coping, and Vocational Purpose.” Journal of Experiential Education, vol. 42, no. 4, 2019, pp. 398–416., https://doi.org/10.1177/1053825919868817. 

Koutsimani P, Montgomery A and Georganta K (2019) The Relationship Between Burnout, Depression, and Anxiety: A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis. Front. Psychol. 10:284. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2019.00284

Lewis, Patrick. “Embracing the Mystery Box: How Outdoor Leaders Discover and Sustain Their Way of Life.” Journal of Outdoor Recreation, Education, and Leadership, vol. 10, no. 4, 2018, pp. 304–322., https://doi.org/10.18666/jorel-2018-v10-i4-8745. 

Lilian Jans-Beken, Nele Jacobs, Mayke Janssens, Sanne Peeters, Jennifer Reijnders, Lilian Lechner & Johan Lataster (2020) Gratitude and health: An updated review, The Journal of Positive Psychology, 15:6, 743-782, DOI: 10.1080/17439760.2019.1651888

Nagoski, E. & Nagoski, A. (2019) Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. Ballantine Books.

Salvagioni, Denise Albieri, et al. “Physical, Psychological and Occupational Consequences of Job Burnout: A Systematic Review of Prospective Studies.” PLOS ONE, vol. 12, no. 10, 2017, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0185781. 

In Remembrance of Evan Bogart

It is heartbreaking and an honor to be amongst the many rays of light that emanated from Evan. We each symbolize a unique ray in Evan's life, which is the story of our relationships with Evan. We all know Evan's love, support, and loyalty and are bonded by a beautiful map of events that are Evan's life. Honoring our friend's legacy is challenging to do in a short span of time when our friend has lived a life so rich in experience.

My ray of light, my story with Evan, began six years ago. My name is Mara and in recent years, I was Evan's employer at Mountain Travel Sobek, but our friendship started six years ago. I was guiding on a six-day Idaho rafting trip, on which the Sierra Club sent veterans. Evan was like many on that trip, a fraction of his spirit, searching for forgiveness, searching for happiness. Unlike many of the participants, Evan had just completed guide school in California through the partnership of Sierra Club & Oars Rafting Company.

In Evan, his dear friend Rob saw the need and opportunity to benefit from the outdoors. With great hesitation, Evan attended the guide school. Guide school is a common foundation for most new guides to spend a week learning the fundamentals of whitewater safety and river trips. Evan would often reflect on how on day one of guide school, he had no interest, but on day two something clicked, and a career in boating began.
The veterans' trip was an opportunity to allow grieving, support, and transformation to happen within nature. As the guide crew working this trip, we were briefed to conduct our jobs of safely navigating the river, leading hikes, preparing backcountry meals but as much as possible to stay in the shadows to allow for private healing. We met the group of veterans eager and friendly at the river put in the morning of our trip. Immediately, I was blown away by the vulnerability of the group, the candor for the desire of healing, the support for each other, despite many of the participants not having met before. This was a brotherhood I had never experienced. In my 30 plus years as a commercial boatman, this is the trip that has resonated the most! Evan's eagerness to learn, awkwardness on the oars in an unflattering customer jacket, humor amongst his friends, but most of all his unwavering loyalty to a community of friends who shared an unbelievably challenging life path was most telling. We finished that trip, and I came out of it seeing war differently, seeing soldiers differently, profound regret, sacrifice, and vulnerability. In a matter of 6 days, I had gained a wonderful friend.

Evan & I bonded on that trip as we both were at axis points in our lives. I was transitioning out of full-time guiding, spending 150 days a year in the backcountry in some of the most remote places in the US. Evan was transitioning into discovering himself with forgiveness, vulnerability, commitment & enthusiasm. He would call me his whitewater fairy godmother. Through his boating career, many of our conversations focused on his dreams, goals, and strategy towards achieving an amazing career in rafting. The reality was, I was not his fairy godmother; I was simply one of his friends lucky enough to hold the mirror for him, to help him realize himself. I saw a profoundly kind and dynamic human who was meant to navigate the rivers we ran. Later that fall, Evan came on a 16 day commercial Grand Canyon trip as my assistant. The following season he continued to work in California as a daily river guide. In his later years, Evan worked for us at MT Sobek as a multi-day guide running trips as short as four days and as long as 16 days in the backcountry spaces of Idaho & Utah. He was starting his boating career in the same places, on the same platforms, and the same rivers, in the same manner, my own career developed on 25 years earlier. It was profound for me to recognize in Evan the transition points in our lives that bring us to the river, the shared passion for wilderness space, the ability to bring joy to guests' hearts as they engage with nature. It's an unusual dynamic to facilitate a river trip in the backcountry where nature will challenge you physically and emotionally amongst strangers.

Nature is conducive to what I refer to as "soul chats." As we all know, conversations with Evan were soulful and rich. Our clients have continually been moved by his ability to see and appreciate people for who they were on a deeper level. To our guests, Evan was an adventurous soul, safely telling clients, "it's alright, it's ok."

River trips are always about safely facilitating the client experience. It takes someone, like Evan, with a high standard for customer service and safety to excel at it. But the most magical part of commercial guiding is the moments we share as a community. The freedom you experience living in the backcountry, doing what you love, meeting new people, developing friendships, expanding horizons, and learning more about the land and spaces we as guides call home.

For those of you not intimately familiar with 'Guide Life' and Evan's river community, summers on the river are months of beautiful memories, hard work, extreme weather, tourists & a community of guides. Guides are stewards of these wilderness spaces and facilitators of an experience. The culture on the water is one of family and support in its simplest form. For many guides, the family support each guide is without while working back-to-back trips is lovingly filled and fiercely protected by your river peers. You work hard and play hard through all your strengths and vulnerabilities. As guides, we find the moments in the field bond you forever, such as navigating together the unpredictability of Mother Nature as you marvel in her beauty, or in the camp kitchen at 6 am when the fog slowly rises off the river, the boats, and the oars, sitting in an empty camp drinking coffee waiting for clients to wake, sneaking away from camp for a dip in the river or a hike to a cave, and lying awake at midnight on our boats whispering to each other about the stories that led us to that moment while gazing into a quilt work of stars. The river allows us to reflect, to run away, to conquer, and to dream.

Evan's humility and grace about the things he did not know accelerated his talent and skills as a boatman. The skills and talent he did have only made him that much more competent & capable. To step aside from his ego and lead with his heart was a beacon for many of our guides. His strength and personality boomed with every paddle captain command or crew chant. Even in millions of acres of wilderness, you could hear Evan, and you could see Evan, partly because he always was walking around in an Aloha shirt or shirtless. Beautiful deep laughter or shouting celebrations of appreciation for being outdoors were his voice. You could feel that Evan's raw joy was uncontainable. Always present and appreciative of life, of living and loving gently and fiercely. Evan was in love with the river; the way she challenged him, pushed him, and brought peace to his heart. This allowed him to realize the authentic happiness that allowed him to find his truest self. His sincere, present optimism and humble nature all while sweating profusely in the hot summer sun. To watch him share this with his nephew, Dominique, who came out to be Evan’s swamper on the sweepboat, was a gift. Dominique, I know your uncle loved you so dearly and was so proud of you. I am so glad you got to feel your uncle's joy on the river.

Evan was a bright light in many circles and respected by all that knew him. He was an extraordinary friend to his river friends. He was an exceptional natural leader with the ability to impact peers in a beautiful, unassuming manner. He was grateful for each day and opportunity afforded him. This loss will forever affect our crew. Personally, I will miss the level of loyalty and support I felt with Evan.

His family and his Army family were an essential part of his life. This man's journey as a child and as a young man through multiple tours forever shaped the person he is. The ability to emerge to the other side of that journey and rediscover himself in a way that fulfilled his heart and soul is an inspiration. His perspective on life and the ability to see the beauty within each of us did not match what people assumed of someone in the Army. He was gifted at appreciating each and every person for who they are and what they bring to the table – including himself. A self-awareness many people never achieve.

When I spoke to Evan Tuesday night, the night before he passed, he was so unbelievably happy living in Guatemala and excited for our upcoming river season in the States. He was going to guide for us in Idaho, Utah, Oregon, and Alaska. The joy and peacefulness in his voice filled my heart. I told him it makes me so happy to see him following his heart and soul, he responded with how truly happy he is. He kept saying, "I am so, so, happy" "so happy" – I will carry that in my heart for the rest of my life.

Evan, my friend, I love you; it is the unrealized love that I mourn. I was ready to ride your beautiful coattails as you run rivers all over the world! You have forever changed my life and the lives of your peers in the river community! I will forever hold you in my heart at each bend of the river, each campfire filled with laughter, and every hike as the wind of the canyon blows past us. Someday we will meet again and hug on the banks of a river you loved so much!

• Mara Darzina

A love letter to guiding and the river.

By Ali Rusch

Hold me in the present so that I may move at the pace of what is real. -My Soul’s prayer to the River’s Current

It was middle school, I was probably turning ten when I started to forget about what it meant to be held in the present. I started worrying about, then or when…

My unapologetic Self took refuge somewhere deep within my existence while this Fearful body decided it knew better on how I was to best protect myself from what was or what will be. This pre-designed, familiar body readily knew what choices I was going to make, step by step it led the way. 

The next eighteen years of my life, Fear captained my ship; overthinking past actions that provided an abundance of guilt and nervously anticipating future moves that kept me on edge. At twenty-three I was married with a full time teaching job, house, and puppy. My body grew intimate in its ways of how to remain safe: be quiet and stay small. Fearful body, happy. 

Our unapologetic Self is just that, unapologetic. Unlike the Fearful body that is given to us through several external modalities, the unapologetic Self is uniquely ours at existence. 

A root will find its way to water in order to survive; we too are roots of this world and must blindly trust our intuitive callings. In order to survive, I began to answer that child who took refuge. 

The Middle Fork of the Salmon River moves at the pace of what is real; present time. My roots, my child, slowly gravitated towards her waters. A virgin to the world of boating, my child was humorously unapologetic. She knew that in order to survive, I was going to have to make intuitive decisions in the moment and ultimately won’t have the seconds to overthink the past… House of Rocks is right after Devil’s Tooth darling! ;) 

At the time, I couldn’t even tell you the difference between the bow and the stern but, do pre-double digit kids really care about being right. Not really, unapologetically we play and figure it out along the way. 

“To play is to free ourselves from arbitrary restrictions and expand our field of action. Our play fosters richness of response and adaptive flexibility. This is the evolutionary value of play--play makes us flexible. By reinterpreting reality and begetting novelty, we keep from becoming rigid. Play enables us to rearrange our capacities and our very identity so that they can be used in unforeseen ways.” -Stephen Nachmanovitch

Living in the wild I am able to embody my pre-ten-year-old self: no mirrors to see the chin hairs, no apps to count the calories, and only the drops to let me know… it is raining. When I am on the river, I train my adult Self on how to play, how to be free from arbitrary restrictions and expand my field of action. 

Through surrender and fight, the Middle Fork of the Salmon River holds me in the present so that I may move at the pace of what is real. This is the current, this is the now. 

I listened to a ted-talk by Michael Brody-Waite, who shared his story of drug addiction and homelesslness to founding and leading his own company. He quotes, “Practice rigorous authenticity, surrender the outcome, and do uncomfortable work.” I am honored to be a guide, a teacher, and a continual student of the Earth. I am willing to surrender my outcome to do the uncomfortable work. I can no longer practice a falsity which kept me “comfortable” and “safe” but rather a truth that is quaking and uncomfortable. 

I am always so excited to share with others that the Redside Foundation exists. My honoring: "In honor to the guides that were, that are, and that will be. In physical form, we then transform to guide, from the other side. Thank you Redside." Thank you Redside Foundation, for supporting the quaking and the uncomfortable so that we may continue to exist in the current. 

In love,
Ali Rusch

Your Guiding Superpowers are Transferable.

The idea of getting a “real” job is often in the back of many a guide’s mind. While the flexibility of the lifestyle is what attracts so many, the seasonal nature of the job can bring with it an instability that can drive guides to explore other career options after a while. The uncertainty brought by the COVID-19 pandemic has only enhanced this fact for some. Transitioning out of guide life can be a daunting task as it is not just a career move, but a major change in lifestyle. However, no matter what job you hope to transition to, the skills you learn as a guide can translate to any work environment. For example, the biggest thing employers really want to know is “Do I want to work with this person?” This is often more important than your actual qualifications. Being adaptable to new situations and people is a killer guide skill that should not be overlooked when thinking about making a major lifestyle change.

Author Geoff Yut

I spent four summers work as a guide for White Cloud Rafting Adventures in Stanley, Idaho. My time as a guide on the Salmon River was a revelation—an unbiased teacher that did not sugarcoat much. In more ways than one, it showed me what I can accomplish when I venture outside of my comfort zone. I eventually used these lessons and skills to return to school and ultimately finish my bachelor’s degree.

Currently, I work full-time as a consultant in Houston, an opportunity that would not have been possible without my guiding experience. Those four summers were so much more instrumental in my professional development than I could have ever predicted. Not only did I gain the self-confidence to advocate for myself and hone the soft skills to quickly establish a meaningful connection with someone, but I also learned invaluable lessons that apply to both my academic and corporate life.

1.         How to ask for help with a big load

To maintain longevity in the job, it’s critical to know when you need to share the load with a friend. Shared loads, mental or physical, help us stay healthy and build camaraderie. Two heads are better than one. So, rely on your team members. And recognize the collaboration and communication skills that make it possible.

2.         The team is everything (find your people)

This is an easy one. Good people make your life and job much more enjoyable. Treat ‘em right and they will treat you right.

3.         Square up to the big waves (max effort)

In guiding as well as most things, charging head-on into a daunting task (or massive wave) is typically a much better strategy than making things worse than they ought to be by delaying the inevitable or letting indecision psych you out. Keep your head up and if you are gonna fail, do so with max effort.

4.         There is more than one right way to do something

Be open to new ways to solve a problem or carry out a task. No matter what, you will learn something. Pay attention to how your peers solve a problem and ask questions (there is a good chance you might learn something!).

5.     How you talk to your crew/coworkers trickles down to client interactions

Positivity breeds more positivity. If your interactions as a crew or team are negative, chances are that will affect interactions you have with the client. Courtesy and civility go a long way in maintaining a healthy group dynamic.

6.     Knowing when to take charge

Keeping the client safe is the #1 priority so a stern command is needed now and again. However, this is a memory for that client, and you want them to enjoy their time with you. As a guide, I really learned to read the group and match my tone to the requirements of the situation.

7.     How to ask a lot of questions and LISTEN

This is key to spending an extended period with anyone on the river. You cannot have a conversation without asking good questions and listening to the answers.

8.     How to read a room (or boat)

Not only being able to pick up on certain cues or hints but capitalizing on it and feeding off that energy to better suit the clients’ desired experience is a huge part of the job. Being in tune with what the group is looking to get out of their time with you is a critical skill in building relationships on the job.

Not only being able to pick up on certain cues or hints but capitalizing on it and feeding off that energy to better suit the client’s desired experience.

So yeah, what I am saying is that guiding really helped me get a terrific job. It made me stand out, the skills transferred, and employers wanted to hear about it. I interviewed well because, as a guide, you are getting interviewed by clients all day, every day. Interviewers always wanted to hear more about my experiences and were genuinely entertained by my stories and the enthusiasm I displayed.

I was able to tell my guide stories like I would in the boat as a guide and draw connections between the “superpowers” you gain from those experiences (problem-solving, adaptability, ability to learn, confident decision making, and the customer service nature of the job) and any work environment you might encounter.

This made me stand out in comparison to other interviewees. I was memorable.

Beyond the interview, the qualities that make a good guide are the same that every employer is looking for in a job candidate, no matter the position. Someone who is professional, an enthusiastic learner, works well with others, and can think on their feet would make a wonderful addition to any team. They are looking for someone who goes with the flow (ha!). I was able to market these skills and show employers what my experiences had taught me and how they translated to the line of work I was applying for.

The “soft” skills you learn as a guide are the same skills professionals across the globe strive to develop thru expensive seminars and online courses.

You might have heard an outfitter say, “I can teach anyone to row a boat, but it’s a lot harder to teach someone to be an excellent guide.”  It truly is much harder to teach soft skills than it is technical skills. The truth is employers do not hire for skills; they hire for attitude. They plan on teaching you the skills you need for the job anyway.

A good attitude and the confidence to know your worth can be the deal maker. Those qualities alone make you an ideal candidate for the right employer, regardless of the skills you feel you might possess or lack.

The Legacy of Lonnie Ray Volger

As the sun comes up earlier, the ground in the valleys begins to thaw, and the vibrant morning melodies of songbirds return, I am immediately transported to past summer trips guided and summer trips yet to come. The anticipation is palpable and the memories are invigorating. People stand out the brightest in my memories of guiding; both those extraordinary characters with whom I've had the pleasure to work alongside, and all those I've met and shared experiences with, from trip guests, to pilots, shuttle drivers, caretakers, and more.

Last summer, I had the great and unplanned fortune of spending a week on the Lower Salmon River with one such character, Lonnie Vogler, as well as three generations of his family. In the early 1970s, Lonnie guided river trips in the Grand Canyon, and on the Green, Yampa, and Middle Fork of the Salmon. I had heard his name a few times in the 'old Hatch tales' of Jerry Hughes (Hughes River Expeditions), so of course, I was excited to meet him and his family. Lonnie hailed from Georgia, he was loud, kind, Southern, and giddy to be back on the river.

His first few days of the trip were harder than he expected, and as a guide, I was a little nervous. He was a few weeks out of a hip replacement, and his doctor advised him not to go on the trip. In addition, the sun and heat seemed to be getting to him, causing extreme exhaustion. It wasn't until the second night, when he had to admit that he needed help up--what is still the steepest sand beach I've ever camped on--that he confided in me that he was battling another round of cancer, a cancer that would eventually take his life, just a few weeks ago. Lonnie had battled the disease for over 20 years; the fight never slowed him down, and in fact, it fueled his presence and desire to spend more time with loved ones. He felt that the gift of memories through shared experiences was one of the greatest gifts he could give. It was the passion for sharing experiences--undoubtedly fueled by months of quarantine away from his children and grandchildren--that brought Lonnie back to Idaho to share one last river trip experience with his family.

As two relative strangers, we had a cry together on the beach in the 100-degree heat. Lonnie spent the rest of the evening in the kitchen with the guide crew, reliving some amazing memories of the southwest Canyons and of Idaho. We went from strangers to friends to family, bonded by a common love of people, places, and experiences shared in guiding. Then he told a story of Whale, the inspiration and catalyst behind the Whale Foundation, which in turn, was a big part of our decision to create The Redside Foundation ten years ago. Lonnie had never heard of Redside before, and so I related our story, the similarities between Whale's story and Telly's, and what we are trying to do for the guiding community. We had another cry. It was one of the most memorable nights I've ever spent on the river. I saw a man truly happy in the presence of his family including kids and grandkids, revisiting some of his fondest memories of friends and experiences, in a place that was so comfortable to him and so full of joy. It was a viscerally human experience--common to guiding--and one of the reasons I return to this work each year.

Lonnie left us an unexpected gift. He asked that in lieu of flowers, that his friends and family donate to The Redside Foundation. I had no idea until we started receiving donations from Georgia. Thank you to all who have donated to us in memory of Lonnie, we appreciate your support and we will work hard to ensure that the legacy of great guides and great people like Lonnie live on. Thank you, Lonnie. Thank you for sharing yourself, your family, and your joy. I wish you clean lines through the rapids in the sky.

Guiding with Grief

By Tess McEnroe

*NOTE - This essay is meant to reflect my personal experience with grief, so far. By no means is this meant to be a preachy prescription, nor to garner sympathy, but instead to continue to normalize the conversation of death and loss, and to talk about mental health issues more openly. Losing a loved one sucks. Period.

So buckle up, and thank you for reading.

____

I held my father in my arms as he passed onto another world on the night of June 3, 2020. 

We were born connected, on the same day, in the same constellation, sharing our birthday close to the winter solstice, near the darkest day of the year. We celebrated his life on the summer solstice, in his garden, on the brightest day of the year. I don’t know what that coincidence means, but I know he would have liked it. 

My Dad lived with a beautiful curiosity for the world and his bright green eyes twinkled as he lit up any room. He put me in the water before I could crawl, took me on my first river trip on the Main Salmon at age 9, and suggested guide school at 18. He taught me more than I can articulate here, and even though as an investigative reporter he hated cliches, he instilled in me “to be relentless and find a way. Follow your heart. Be the voice for the vulnerable. Stay humble, and never give up.”

“I don’t want to die, but I’m not afraid to die,” he told me in his final weeks. We left nothing left unsaid, and that is the biggest gift we could give each other when life dealt us the worst hand. My father never complained, and he fought a horrible disease with grit and grace until the end. I felt robbed, screwed, that so much of life was taken from us. It was never supposed to be like this. It never is. It’s not right.

And now, when we are left here, without our people, how do we go on? When we don’t know what else to do to be okay, do we gravitate towards something we deeply love or to a place that brings us comfort? To try and ground, hold on to anything when the world feels like it is slipping out of our hands. What do we reach for in these moments?

I know well enough by now that I reach for the river. I want to run and hide under a rock literally and figuratively. To let the chaotic currents and turbulence stir my sadness and the deep, dark pools in an eddy allow my heart to be heavy. To change shape with a confluence, to rest my head on nonjudgmental sand. To surround myself with a community where I feel a sense of belonging, a piece of the misfits’ puzzle. 

I’m here writing to offer love to anyone out there who may need it and to remind us that it’s okay to talk about death and mental health struggles. Grief kicks you in the ribs out of nowhere, it can cripple you with anxiety. It is nonlinear, and it is incredibly personal. If you’ve experienced a loss of any kind – you may hear “you’re not alone,” but actually we often are just that – sometimes we are completely alone.

Alone in our boat. Alone in our truck. Alone on a mountain. Alone while sleeping next to the person you love. Alone with a bottle. Alone with our grief, and alone in our hearts.

But, there is always a choice to be made, that usually is only up to us to make. The choice to keep going. We must make that choice, not only for ourselves, and the days to come, but for our people whom we have lost. Throw the throw bag. Or grab it if you need it. I am now in therapy regularly and owe part of that to the Redside Foundation. Do not be ashamed to get the help you need.

I’ve been told I am a strong, stubborn, independent woman. My shoulders are not slight. Yet, sometimes the voice inside my head tells me otherwise. And in all of your literal unimaginable horror 2020, and the suffering in the world, you have shown me that indeed deep inside of me, I am humble, tenacious, and tough.

My grief has taught me that my vulnerability means I am truly strong. I believe that being vulnerable generates a different kind of courage that no adrenaline rush or adventure scenario can give us. Riding the waves of grief is harder than any whitewater, or summit bid on the planet. This kind of courage is different. To ask for help, to let go of shame, guilt, and obligation – this is a leveled up version of courage. 

For the past few years, while fighting cancer, I had to learn how to bend in order to break. I had to be malleable like water, and let my edges try to be smoothed. I had to ask for help, to vocalize my terror of losing a parent, to cry in front of strangers at chemo, and to be brave when my Dad needed me to be. I had to be honest with myself. I had to learn how to confront all the dirt that was swept under the rug or hiding under that rock. I had to force myself to be reminded that I do love life – to play and have fun and that it is okay to do that, even during grief, because it is endless.

In the darkest hours, my emotions have scared me. The wave of grief builds, and I take a big breath because I know I am about to get pushed under, go deep, and get recirculated. I go to a place where I am terrified, yet it is a place I know – to be alone, to be helpless. It is here that I search for my father’s energy, for him to be with me. I talk to him sometimes. The tears fall, the breathing becomes irregular, there’s usually a few f-bombs dropped, sometimes even a collapse. But luckily I rise to the surface for air, out of the darkness, and emerge into the light. Grief never completely goes away, but it does come and go. There is a moment when I can get air if I make the choice to swim hard.

And in those moments, sometimes my father shows up. A hummingbird hovering over my shoulder, a golden eagle soaring above my head, a mountain lion crossing the road, a ram staring into my eyes. I see and hear him in my dreams. They shake me awake and draw tears from my eyes, and I long to go back to sleep where I can be with him again. I beg for him to stay with me; I send my love out and he is gone again.

It is in those moments, where it is only me who can choose the light…despite the beings or dreams who offer to help. And it is within these moments, these dark years where I have changed the most. I have grown. I have found a deeper connection to myself, what I value, and the company I keep. (This is basically like opening a gift-wrapped box of dog shit. The worst way to get a present ever, but still a gift).

I am learning to live with the triggers that come out of nowhere or everywhere, depending. Bruce Springsteen on the radio, sushi at the grocery store, Blackadar camp on the Main Salmon, family traditions, gardening, the list goes on. I am pretty good at crying behind my sunglasses and wiping away tears mid-conversation. I have also learned how to bury it, shove it away, and make reckless decisions to numb the pain. I’m working on that one.

Yet, it is in the hardest journey of my life so far that I have learned perhaps the most powerful lesson. 

Vulnerability builds strength. Strength builds resilience. Resilience builds compassion. And compassion builds love. 

So, if we can be vulnerable, we can love. 

We can be okay. We can try to heal. We can be reminded and witness that life is so insanely beautiful despite the rugged heartbreak of loss or hardship. We can reach for the important places and people in our lives who we cherish. We can keep our people alive in our hearts by the way we choose to live. And we can acknowledge that grief and trauma are perhaps the most personal journeys we mortals face. So, therefore, in this short time we have together we can also be kind to one another.

And I encourage us all to do that – to trust the good, to live without abandon, and to love wildly. I know that’s what my father would want for me, and that’s what I want for me too.

“Dad – you are my wise counsel, the bravest warrior I will ever know, and my hero. 

I promise I will continue to follow my heart and make you proud. 

I promise you I will take care of our family. 

I promise I will find you downstream. 

I will see you in the water, I will feel you in the sunshine, and I will hear you in the birds’ song. And although with the heaviest heart I say farewell – I promise I will honor you and love you, forever and a million years.”

Thoughts on Meditation

by Jon Totten

Redside Friends,

 Adopting a daily meditation practice has had an immeasurable impact on my life. 

I’ve been interested in meditation for many years, but never had the motivation to try it.  Everything I read, watched and listened to led me to believe that meditation would undoubtedly improve my life.  Unfortunately, I never had the guts to give it a go. In fact, every time I considered it, I would immediately become lost in a sea of thoughts, “I can’t calm down” “How do you stay awake?” “How do you stop thinking” “There’s no way I can sit with my legs crossed like that.”  So I never tried.  Until I did.  Until I had to.

In October 2019 I checked myself into a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center in Denver, Colorado. I had lost control. I was, and still am, an addict.  This is a long story that I’m happy to share, but not today. Today, I’ll focus on the miracle of meditation.

I learned to meditate in rehab.  The program I participated in utilized multiple approaches including group and individual therapy, 12-step programs, spirituality, physical fitness, wilderness therapy, art therapy, nutrition, neuroscience, and of course, meditation.  While each approach had its merit, none compared to the healing effect of meditation. 

Before I describe my practice, I feel it’s necessary for me to proclaim that I am not a master of meditation, a meditation instructor, or bodhisattva; although my round features and general mood are becoming more and more buddha like by the day…

So here’s what I do. While I’ve meditated at all times of day or night, I prefer to practice first thing in the morning.  I begin by warming up my body. I like yoga, so I do 5 sun salutations before I sit.  These movements get my blood moving and tend to tune me into myself. Next, I find a comfortable, private spot to sit.  If I’m on the river, I walk up or downstream a bit. If I’m on my sailboat, I sit up at the bow. If I’m at home in my trailer, I just sit on the floor. I like to sit with my legs crossed and my ass propped up 5 or 6 inches on a cushion of some type, but I often have to sit in a chair due to physical pain from the new and old injuries that go with the territory. I really don’t think it matters where or when or how you sit. If you commit to the practice, you’ll figure out what works for you.

I begin with a series of deep breaths. I don’t count them.  I simply breathe in my nose and out my mouth until all I am focused on is my breath. Then I just sit there, making every effort to rest in awareness, until my timer alarm sounds. Upon hearing the alarm, I finish my practice with four intentionally deep breaths. I focus the first three exhales on sending positive energy to specific people. It could be a friend or family member, a mere acquaintance, or a complete stranger. I don’t overthink it. I just let the faces appear in my head and send them some love as I exhale. This technique is my interpretation of what’s called Metta or Loving Kindness practice. I don’t know much about it beyond the fact that it feels amazing. My fourth and final exhale is for me. I like to let out a big fat OM from the bottom of my stomach. This breath reminds me to love myself.  Then I open my eyes and go kick ass, or at least try to. I currently sit for 10-15 minutes a day.

So what does it mean to rest in awareness? To be honest, I’m not really sure. All I’m doing is focusing my attention on the present moment. I like to cycle through my senses and simply notice what I smell, hear, feel, and see, which isn’t much as I generally practice with my eyes closed. The mission is to not get lost in thought. Not to rehash things that already happened or anticipate things that might happen. Inevitably, meaning 100% of the time, these thoughts do appear. I can’t stop them; so I don’t even try. What I can do, or more accurately, what I’m learning to do, is not get caught up in them. This is really the key to resting in awareness. When a thought appears, instead of trying to ignore it, I focus on it directly, the same way I focus on the tickle in my left nostril or the shooting pain in my right knee. I can’t wish away the thoughts any more than I can wish away the tickles or pain. What I can do is notice the thought, acknowledge it, and return to my breath. More often than not, the thought, tickle, or pain disappears as soon as I notice it and choose not to engage it.  And that, my friends, is the real grace of meditation. 

Meditation is not the absence of thought. It’s the practice of noticing the thought and choosing not to pay attention to it. And our attention, according to Sam Harris, is the “cash value” of our time. 

My daily practice, as with my life in general, has its good days and bad days. Strikes and gutters, Dude. All I can do is keep practicing.  Meditation is an exercise for me. If you did 25 pushups every day for six months, do you think you’d notice a result?  Likely. What would happen if you chose to rest in awareness for 10 minutes a day for a year?  I’m not sure, but I’ll tell you in a couple of months.

Here are some resources that helped me get started:

Books: both less than $10 on Amazon

-       The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Nhat Hanh

-       The Wise Heart by Jack Kornfield

Apps:

-       Insight Timer – Tons of resources here.  I use the guided meditations and music when I’m struggling to quiet my mind.

-       Waking Up with Sam Harris – Sam’s introductory course is worth your time.  It helped me immensely.  

 People:

-       Reach out to me directly or via the Redside Foundation.  I seriously love talking about mindfulness and addiction recovery. 

 I’ll leave you with a line from one of my favorite movies.  “You know how to get to Carnegie Hall don’t ya?.... Practice.”  Post the name of the film in the comments below for a free hug. 

Stay Focused,

JT

photo credit: @terrybrinton

GUIDE OF THE QUARTER: TANNER HASKINS

Tanner Haskins, a river and backcountry skiing guide from Stanley, ID, spoke with Redside Board Member Brian Chaffin in late May 2020… during quarantine times…

Brian Chaffin (BC): Tanner, thanks so much for speaking with us today. Where are you? We're all ‘staying at home’ these days, so we're in full-on Zoom mode! We generally like to interview in person, so tell me where you are.

Tanner Haskins (TH): I'm in the house I rent here in Stanley

BC: Awesome. How's the weather in beautiful Stanley these days?

TH: A little gray this week.

BC: Are you still are you still in the backcountry skiing mode?

TH: I kind of took a break, you know, the hospital in Sun Valley was kind of overwhelmed for a while. So everyone was kind of trying to dial it back, trying not do anything risky, so we wouldn't end up there. But I'm thinking about getting back out soon. 

BC: That's good. You know, we knew because of COVID that the Sun Valley Hospital was overwhelmed. I never thought that it would have ramifications on your risk taking in the backcountry!

TH: Yeah, right?

BC: That’s fascinating. Let’s dive in. Tell me a little bit about your guiding career. So, I know you are a ski guide, but I think you are also river guide, tell me a little bit about what you do, where you work, and who you work for. 

TH: Well, I moved out here to work for Sawtooth Mountain Guides. I grew up in Vermont and went to school in Vermont and visited here for the first time to take an avalanche class, actually through Sun Valley Trekking while I was still in college. Sarah Lundy was my guide on that course. She later bought Sawtooth Mountain Guides and they hired me to be like the hut keeper intern for the winter 2013-14. And yeah, so I've been progressing on the whole guide thing with Sawtooth Mountain Guides for the last seven years and needed something to do in the summers to keep me occupied and they connected me with Jared Hopkinson at Rocky Mountain River Tours and Sawtooth Adventure Company. So this will be my seventh summer raft guiding as well.

Photo Credit: Lara Antonello

BC: Awesome, so you are a full time Stanley resident, then? It sounds like you have year round work in Stanley? That's the dream right there.

TH: Yeah, it’s pretty perfect.

BC: Fantastic. So for Jared, you work all of his permitted rivers? Do you work in Stanley, as well as on the Main Salmon and on the Middle Fork of the Salmon? 

TH: Yep, like now it's just a couple day trips a year out of Stanley and I'm a split pretty evenly between the Main Salmon and the Middle Fork.

BC: Yeah, and congrats on going from “hut keeper intern” to full on ski guide! So it sounds like you've been guiding about seven years, then?

TH: Yep.

BC: I'm super curious to know about—well, there's very few guides out there that that make that year round commitment and are able to have work in both the winter and the summer season. What's the balance there? What do you like about it? I mean, they are very different types of guiding. I'm curious if you might contrast that a little bit for us.

TH: Yeah, I like it. It's nice because it just kind of, you know, keeps everything fresh. I mean, even within the river season, doing the three different rivers, it's not as easy to get burned out or tired of it, if you're switching it up. And then the winter… it's not super busy for me at Sawtooth Mountain Guides, but that's perfect because summer is kind of crazy, so it's nice to have a little break. And then I actually throw in a third segment where I go to Alaska and ski guide for the spring. Yeah, so being flexible and being willing to travel and be away from home is kind of the big thing that makes it possible to guide all year.

BC: Wow, that's great. Where do you guide in in Alaska?

TH: I did five years in Valdes with Valdes Heli-ski Guides, and now I just finished my first year with Majestic Heli-ski Guides in Sutton, Alaska.

BC: Very cool. What's the the difference between ski guiding in the Sawtooths and then jumping up to heli-guiding in Southeast Alaska?

TH: The helicopter is the biggest difference.

BC: [Laughter] Yeah, yeah. I imagine the vast, ‘largeness’ of the place too… 

TH: Yeah. And of course the terrain is totally different. We're entirely skiing above treeline in Alaska, which is nice because then, you know, with avalanches you're not worried about running into trees. But then you deal with a lot of flat light. If there's a layer of clouds, all of a sudden the sky is white and the ground is white and all the mountains are white and you can't see anything. It's like being inside a ping pong ball. Here you can ski out even if it is blizzarding if you're in the trees.

BC: As long as you have some point of reference, right?

Photo credit: Alan Blado

So, what does it mean to you to guide? I know that’s kind of a big question, but I'm curious on your take. I'll just preface it with this: a lot of people come into guiding because they love the sports that they're doing. They love rafting, love kayaking, love skiing. And some people don't come into guiding thinking about “guide” as a profession or as a professional. Tell me about that role for you. Have you grown into that role? How do you view it? Where are you with what it means to guide?

TH: Well, I came into guiding because I like skiing and ski guiding was the first guiding I did. It was funny coming into rafting, I had never rafted before so that has become a new passion through guiding which is really nice. I go on private raft trips all the time now, so that's great. With both of them, obviously, I enjoy the activity itself, but the guiding is a little larger than that and certainly the most rewarding part of it is introducing people to the wilderness, or a new mode of travel or transportation or sport that they're becoming familiar with and seeing that kind of blow their minds is really rewarding.

BC: Does one moment stand out? Do you have a an anecdote or story about a client or experience which was really rewarding?

TH: Let's see… yeah, trying to think if there's one in particular…. I mean, there's the guy just this year I took heli-skiing and it was his first time. He was a snowboarder, and about halfway down the first run—you know, it's like the worst run I've done all season—and it was just blowing his mind. It was the best thing he'd ever done; it was the best ski run of his life. And he was just blown away. So that was pretty cool and it changed my day too because I was like, “oh right, I'm not giving him some terrible product, I'm just spoiled.” 

BC: It's all relative. Isn’t that amazing how someone else's experience can bring you into the fold and you're like, “yeah, this is awesome.” That's really cool. What about guiding is challenging for you, what are some of the challenges that you encounter in guiding?

TH: I think being away from home is the largest challenge. So even though with the rafting season I'm based out of Stanley and I come through every week, I'm still out camping, away from my house and my girlfriend and everything for seven nights a week on our rotation. Yeah, and then similarly being in Alaska is like a two or three months season where I'm just completely gone. So yeah, that's challenging, but not insurmountable.

BC: Is that Alaska season… did you already do it, or are you still going to do it?

TH: Already did it. Yeah, it was supposed to be from early February through April, but ended early.

BC: COVID put the kibosh on it?

TH: Yep.

BC: I'm glad you brought up a girlfriend. One of the biggest known challenges of guiding is relationships. Trying to create and foster—especially with overnight multiday-type guiding—what are some of your coping mechanisms or how have you navigated that?

TH: Well, fortunately, she is also seasonal. She works for Sawtooth Mountain Guides and then actually she just started back with the Forest Service. And so we both have large shoulder seasons that overlap. So we just make up for time spent apart by spending lots of time together in the shoulder seasons and going on trips and stuff.

BC: Everything seasonal in guiding right? It’s either on or it’s off. That’s great. Yeah, I mean, there's a lot of guides that make it work that way; a partner hikes in on a deadhead or gets to float for a day because there's only a few clients.

Changing gears a bit, do you have any goals as a guide? Is there something that you'd like to guide that you haven't or is there's a place that you'd like to go or there's a thing you'd like to accomplish while you’re guiding, or are you just living in the moment?

TH: Yeah, as far as rafting, I don't have too much ambition outside of where I'm guiding now—certainly floating more rivers, but maybe not working them. But for skiing, I'd like to do more international stuff. Particularly, South America is interesting to me, either for touring guiding or heli-ski guiding. I think that could be a fun, like, take August when it is all smoky and everyone's angry on the river and go heli-ski for a month and then come back.

BC: [Laughter] I assume in the Andes?

TH: Oh yeah, hopefully!

BC: That would be great—”sorry guys I know it's smoky, we'll see you later!” Awesome. Do you have a favorite line or a favorite run you can you can share with us? You don't have to give us the full gems that are hidden away, but yeah, if you had to pick a favorite rapid to run or favorite line to ski, what would you would do?

TH: Yeah, let's see. Favorite rapid…. It's fresh because I just came off a Jarbidge-Bruneau private trip. The five-mile rapid section at the bottom of the Bruneau is super fun in a two-person paddle raft.

BC: Alright, a little R2 action on the Bruneau!

TH: Yeah, it was super fun. Last year I did it in a ducky, and it was more stressful than fun.

BC: I bet. I haven't been been down there yet, but I heard when that thing is pumping that five-mile is a beast of a rapid.

TH: Yeah, fortunately I haven't done it very high, both years it's been kind of moderate. So that was nice. And for a ski line… man there's some good ones in the Sawtooths. I think my most memorable ski line—maybe not always my favorite—but the Jerry Garcia run above the Williams Peak Hut. I skied it at sunrise one time with pink light and overhead powder. It was incredible.

BC: That gets me wanting to get out of my chair, that's for sure. Do you think you will guide for a while? Do you think this is a big part of your career, do you have aspirations beyond this, or is this Tanner Haskins for now?

TH: I'll do it as long as it's fun is what I keep telling people, whenever they ask. And then part of it—there's more room for growth, I feel like, in the ski guiding side of things. More certifications, more international stuff, more room for promotion even. So, I kind of feel like maybe I've already topped out on the rafting, but I'm happy to keep doing that as long as it's fun. With the ski guiding now, I've been kind of growing on the management side of things too, with the heli-skiing. So in addition to be a guide, this year I was the operations manager at Majestic Heli-ski, which is like, then I get to split my time in the office so I'm not out ruining my knees skiing 80 days in a row. And I like that stuff. It's a good challenge and it's fun.

BC: And learning a lot more I assume about the business side of it, logistics, clients, and marketing. And jet fuel costs.

TH: Exactly. Yeah, and so that seems more sustainable. It feels more like a “real job” and pays a little better.

BC: I always tell people… you know, guiding is about as real as it gets, for a real job right? I do. I love challenging that silly dichotomy of thinking, a real job versus guiding. The risk-reward that you have in your hands every single day. It's about as real as it gets. Right?

TH: Yeah, totally

BC: I'm curious, did you learn something stepping into that management role this year? Is there something that stands out that you learned that you might not have thought about as a guide, or with guiding, where you were like, “oh wow, this is different.”

TH: Yeah, I had been growing into the role for a couple years, so I was kind of used to it. I was the assistant operations manager last year at Valdes Heli-ski Guides. I'm trying to think if there was anything big—I think I mostly learned things about myself as a manager. Like I’m too nice sometimes.

BC: And probably in working with people specifically?

TH: Yeah, totally. 

BC: One of the questions we love to ask our guide to the quarter interviewees is what would you say, or what kind of advice would you give to a first-year guide? You know, you’ve got your eager, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed guide showing up like, “I'm gonna sweep the huts. That's what I do. I'm super excited and want to be a guide!” What do you tell them? 

photo: Alan Blado

TH: Something I found about myself after the first couple years was… you know this community of guides, a lot of the time it's like a big party and everybody is kind of burning the candle at both ends, and you're having fun during the day with the clients and then you're camping out and staying up all night. And then you’re doing it again. And you just can't provide the right experience or sometimes even the safety for your clients if you're not sort of in tip-top shape yourself. And so, I always tell myself that “self care is client care.” So, if I'm taking care of myself then I know that I'll be able to be happy and be giving all my energy to a fun, happy safe experience for my clients. So, all my co-guides make fun of me for going to bed at nine o'clock on the river every night, but I know that because I do that I'm going to be cheerful and chipper and happy and strong in the morning.

BC: I love that mantra! Self care is client care. Yeah, it's true. It's really true. Do you have a hero as a guide? Do you have a mentor, or some people that have really meant a lot to you along the way that you've learned from?

TH: Probably Sarah Lundy first and foremost. I think she was like one of the first guides of the month or quarter or something.

BC: Yeah, she's been really supportive of Redside since the beginning. We love Sarah.

TH: Yeah, she taught the avalanche class that got me interested—more so than I was—in backcountry skiing, and hired me at Sawtooth Mountain Guides. So that's how I moved to Stanley, and yeah, taught me most everything. And is just fun and awesome to hang out with all the time. 

BC: Meet any other wild characters along the way? Any legends?

TH: Yeah, there's some legends in the Alaskan Heli scene. But even if they're only legends within that scene… some folks that have worked up there for 30 years. You know, working with Doug Combs, starting Valdes Heli-ski Guides, and they all knew him. And yeah, and they're just kind of larger than life; they have pioneered a lot of first descents, skied more heli-runs than most people on Earth. And it's pretty cool.

BC: I'm right there with you—you meet those people that you've read about, thought about, and for the first time, and nobody else—99% of people on the planet walking down the street would not know who this person was from anyone. And you see them and they're covered in a warm glow of light. 

TH: [Laughter] Totally.

BC: Well, this has been great. It's been really awesome to talk with you Tanner. Thanks for taking the time and for supporting Redside. It sounds to me like you really live some of the things that we believe in—that self care is client care and safety is paramount and guiding is professional. I really appreciate talking to you. I'm curious, do you have a memory or a story or something that you go back to that stands out as just one of the strangest, most interesting, cool…. it can be any of those things. Do you have a great guiding story you can share with us?

TH: Let's see, let's see. One of my more memorable days of ski guiding. I took out some older folks and their kids; they were visiting Sun Valley for the winter or for Christmas. Their ski resume was great; they had ski toured in the Dolomites and ski toured in Japan and they looked like the perfect clients. And there was a large enough group that there was me a another guide with them. And so we planned kind of a larger day than we normally would with clients who we were having for the first time, and… it just turned into an epic where you know they were on heavy rental gear and they were older and they're from New York at sea level and we took them to Galena Summit at 9000 feet. We were just doing these small laps but they were just getting tired so quickly and then the woman cut her finger when she was transitioning and it's starting to get dark and she wouldn’t let me bandage it and she's starting to panic that we are not gonna make it out of the woods by the time it's dark out and she was just getting more and more worked up. And she's ahead of me and the other guide was leading, and he didn't see what was going on back there. And she got to the top of the hill and she'd been wiping her face from sweat on the ski out, and it was covered with blood from her finger! And we all thought that something terrible had happened when she arrived at the top of the hill. And I thought she was just having the worst day and we made it to the car and she was just the happiest lady who had the best time and they tipped us huge and thanked us so much and were just blown away by the experience. And I thought we were gonna get no stars on TripAdvisor or something!

BC: [Laughter] I can just hear what you were thinking, “this lady's face is covered in blood and… we went too big!” It’s a great reminder that our perception of what's happening is often so much different than our clients’ perception sometimes and just being able to read that is a skill in itself, right?

TH: Yeah, absolutely.

BC: That's a great story. Thanks for sharing. 

TH: You bet.  

BC: Well, cool. That's really all the questions I have, do you have anything for us or anything fun you want to tell us about guiding or your trajectory that we didn't cover?

TH: I don't think so. Just thanks for all the awesome stuff you guys do and reaching out and saying hi and everything.

BC: No worries. Thank you. We really appreciate the support we couldn't do it without guides recognizing and supporting us. Thank you!

PRESS RELEASE: LAFORTUNE RESIGNS AS EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

REDSIDE FOUNDATION ANNOUNCES DIRECTOR RESIGNATION

A Letter From Board President Sheri Hughes And Outgoing Executive Director Emerald LaFortune

From Sheri Hughes, Board of Directors President, The Redside Foundation:

It is with sadness and gratitude that the Board of Directors announces the departure of Emerald LaFortune as Executive Director of the Redside Foundation. Emerald joined the Redside Foundation in 2016 and over the past three years has solidified and expanded Redside’s mission of supporting the health and strength of Idaho’s guiding community. Under Emerald’s leadership, the Redside Foundation:

• Improved and stabilized Redside’s services for Idaho guides including the Idaho Guide Helpline, scholarships, annual health fair, and professional development grants.

• Built a network of guide liaisons across the state to communicate Redside’s services for guides.

• Implemented a financial advice line for Idaho guides, a guide day of remembrance, and winter guide gatherings.

• Built new strategic partnerships for the organization across the state of Idaho.

• Developed and formalized internal structures and processes.

• Facilitated organizational growth in all areas, from service use, to media, to fundraising, to board development.

Emerald leaves the Redside Foundation in a strong position for continued growth and service to our Idaho guide community. Over the next month, we will be conducting a search to find the next Executive Director. The Board of Directors and Emerald will be performing interim administrative tasks for the organization during the transition, and it is the Board of Directors priority to maintain a stable and effective organization. We will share the job announcement soon and ask you to keep in mind any potential candidates in your community.

The Board of Directors wishes Emerald the best of luck in her future endeavors. We are appreciative of the dedication and enthusiasm she has given the Redside Foundation over the last three years. We are confident that with Emerald’s support, this transition will be smooth for our Idaho guides, partners, and generous supporters. We look forward to continuing to serve our mission of supporting the health and strength of Idaho’s guiding community.

If you have any questions or concerns during this transition, please don’t hesitate to reach me directly: sheri@redsidefoundation.org.

Sincerely,

Sheri Hughes, President - Board of Directors, The Redside Foundation

From Emerald LaFortune, Executive Director, The Redside Foundation

After three rewarding years of serving Idaho’s guiding community as Director of the Redside Foundation, I recently submitted my resignation to the board. It is bittersweet to move into the next chapter of my career within the salmon and steelhead advocacy campaign at the Idaho Conservation League. I’m looking forward to continuing the work that is important to me: advocating for Idahoans and the resources that sustain our recreation and livelihoods.

I’m incredibly proud of the accomplishments that the board, funders, partners, and I have achieved for the Redside Foundation over the past three years. I’m also deeply grateful for all the relationships I’ve built during my time as Executive Director. The Idaho guiding and outfitting community is one of a kind, and it’s been a joy to work alongside you and all the other supporting partners of our industry.

I remain deeply committed to the Redside Foundation and the trust you have shown in this organization via your support. I will be working in collaboration with the Board of Directors to help the organization transition into new leadership and will be available to the new hire for any questions they might have over the course of 2020. I trust the Board of Directors fully in making a great selection for the next Director and look forward to introducing you to them soon.

I want to thank you for your work supporting Idaho’s guides alongside me. I am committed to remaining a passionate advocate for Idaho’s outdoor guides and hope to remain an Idaho guide myself for many years to come.

See you on the river and on the trail,

Emerald LaFortune - emerald.lafortune@gmail.com

GUIDE OF THE QUARTER: ZAC MAYHEW

Zac Mayhew is a fishing and hunting guide for Picabo Angler out of Picabo, ID. He mainly guides clients on boat and wade fishing trips in the Wood River, Lost River, Upper Salmon River drainages, as well as on Silver Creek. Zac grew up in the Wood River Valley and has been guiding in the greater Sun Valley area for thirteen years. He has been recognized as a local favorite by several Idaho-based periodicals, both for his fishing ability and his charismatic and compassionate approach to guiding. Booking Zac is tough because of the sheer volume of his returning clients. Zac can be found guiding Idaho’s rivers year-round, but during his coveted personal time, he can be found traveling internationally with his wife Abby, exploring exotic rivers, chasing fish, and frequenting new watering holes.

The following interview was conducted by Redside Board member Brian Chaffin in Stanley, ID, July 2019. 


BC: Zac Mayhew, great to talk to you—first thing: how many years have you been guiding?

ZM: Thirteen. Seems crazy to me—can’t believe how fast the time has passed. I have a ten-year-old dog. I immediately started guiding in the Wood River Valley after returning from the University of Idaho.

BC: So when you came back from college—go Vandals by the way—did you know that was what you were going to do? Had you guided before?

ZM: No… so I had about two more semesters left for a degree, was out of financial aid, and was trying to decide whether or not to take private loans to finish up or not—and I fished every day as a kid, after work, after school—so I walked into Lost River Outfitters to buy some flies one day and Scott, the outfitter, asked me what I was going to do that summer, and I said I hadn’t really figured it out yet. The years previous I had gone up to Alaska and worked on commercial salmon fishing boats. So I told him I was a little bit lost this year and he said, “Well why don’t you guide for me this summer until you figure out your next step and what you want to do.” As I always tell clients about fishing, “Why don’t you figure this out until you decide you’re going to do when you grow up.” Thirteen years later, I guess I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do when I grow up.

BC: That’s funny. Seems like you’ve ‘figured this out’ at least. Now I know you don’t work for Lost River Outfitters currently, what has been the progression of the different outfitters or shops you’ve worked for and places you’ve worked in your career so far?

ZM: I worked for Lost River Outfitters for 10 years, I’ve guided the Owyhee in Oregon and on the Grande Ronde River in Washington during fall steelhead season, and now I’m with Picabo Angler. This will be my third year with them guiding fishing, upland bird hunting, and duck hunting.

BC: Nice. Do you have a favorite moment or memory from guiding?

ZM: Really, just one?

BC: I know, it’s a tough question, but from your years of guiding and all the clients you’ve worked with, does something stand out?

ZM: Well, there’s a bunch. I’ll go cheesy with it, but it is watching somebody inexperienced do everything right and catch a fish. I’ve got millions of those, but they’re all great. It even happened today, I got hit in the nuts because my client—every time a fish comes up beneath a dry fly she loves to dance and freak out—so this big cutthroat came up and ate a big fly and she yelled and screamed and hit me right in the crotch. I told her if we went fishing again I’d have to wear a cup.

BC: That’s fantastic. Along the same lines of remembering fishing trips and moments, has there been one, or a type of trip that has been more challenging for one reason or another?

ZM: Outside of helping someone with a disability catch a fish—which is incredibly rewarding—no, not really. The challenge is just managing expectations. Being a fishing guide, especially in the places where I work, many of our clients have fished all over the world. They’ve been able to do and experience things that I can only dream about. So, you get a lot of those people who want or expect epic days every time they fish, and they might only fish five days a year, always with a guide, and so it can be tough to manage those expectations given all the uncontrollable variables, the realities of weather, water, time of year, etc.

BC: You’ve talked about the rewarding moments of just seeing someone catch a fish and fulfilling their goals and seeing them satisfied, is there anything that sticks out for you that was just unbelievable, or like, “Holy s&%t, I can’t believe that just happened?”

ZM: What immediately comes to mind is this woman with whom I still fish; her sister passed away a long time before I met her, when she was young. We were fishing on the East Fork of the Lost—and there is a population of Arctic grayling in the East Fork—and she was asking me what type of fish were in this stretch. I told her there were two types of cutthroat, brook trout, rainbows… and then there’s this unicorn. And she looked at me kind of weird and said, “What do you mean by unicorn?” I said, “Well, it’s an arctic grayling, but there’s not many of them.” She proceeded to tell me that she used to call her late sister ‘the unicorn’ as a nickname. Six casts later—and of course we didn’t know the fish was in the pool—she catches a unicorn. We both got pretty choked up—it was just one of those cool things where you’re like, that was bigger than both of us.

BC: That’s incredible—had you ever caught one in there before?

ZM: I still haven’t caught one there. I’ve guided a few people to catch one, but haven’t caught one myself.

BC: Unbelievable. That’s great story. As a guide, personally, do you have any specific goals? For example, any places you want to guide or places you want to take people, or any aspirations in that respect?

ZM: Huh, that’s a tough one. No… I mean, the crazy thing—and this is a weird one—is that in going on international fishing trips to places like Argentina, even with my clients, the best thing I get from that is the opportunity to be guided by other guides, learning from other fishing guides that do it for a living. So, I guess my aspiration is to learn from as many other guides as I can. Other than that, I don’t really have any goals of an upper echelon… I would love to go to British Columbia and guide steelhead or go to the Seychelles and be a salt water guide salt during the winters or something like that. Fishing guiding is a little bit different in the respect that—I wouldn’t say it’s more of a skillset—but it is more specifically about place-based knowledge. Anywhere you go your skills don’t necessarily transfer. You can’t just say, “Hey, I want to be a tarpon guide in Florida.” You have to know about tarpon, you have to about the area. Just like running rivers probably, it takes time on a specific river—no one is going to pay you right off the bat to guide them in this environment. “Hey, I’m from Idaho… I’ve seen tarpon before, and I know how to fish, you should pay me $700 and we’ll try to catch one.” Not gonna happen.

BC: With regard to rivers and how water flows in channels, a wave is a wave anywhere on earth, but with fishing—and I never thought about this before—the fish is a very dynamic component. Each fish’s life history, foraging approach, mating strategy, they can be very unique and context dependent. So, I think fishing guiding is unique in that respect.

ZM: Yeah, so it’s species-based and climate-based… and insects. There’s so much to know.

BC: Changing gears, I want to ask you a personal question. Because you guide fishing trips as a profession, do you still like fishing on your own?

ZM: Absolutely! Do I ever fish on the same rivers I work on? Slim to none.

BC: So when you fish for yourself, you fish in places you don’t guide? Can you share with me one of your favorite places to fish?

ZM: One of my favorite places to fish—and I only get to fish it maybe a couple times a year—is the South Fork of the Boise. It’s a unique river in Idaho, it’s a non-commercial river. There are no guides or outfitters allowed to work on that river. For me, I get to row a boat with my wife and my dogs and on a day off, that’s something special. And it’s interesting to actually realize that you’re not going to run into anyone working. It’s a weird concept as a guy who makes their living guiding, but it’s pretty neat.

BC: It’s kind of sacred water.

ZM: Yeah, I think the “Governor’s River” is what it is known as.

BC: “He” reserved it for himself and the people, I guess. Speaking of your lovely wife Abby, how do you balance your home life with this kind of this career?

ZM: Well, it takes two to tango, but Abby, without a doubt, has realized that from May through November-December when I’m guiding bird hunting, that she is going to be independent and on her own for the most part. There are no weddings, no weekends off, very little personal time. I am fortunate in the fact that she gets it. She understands that I love my job and she loves to help me be successful at my job. Whether that is me burning chicken the night before a trip and her making chicken for me in the morning—I am very fortunate. I guess—what’s the cheesy saying—something about being away makes the heart grow fonder? Yeah, I think that is very true.

BC: So do you spend more time on that relationship and at home during those months that you are not guiding?

ZM: Yeah, absolutely. Minus the travel stuff that I do, the winter months are Abby and I. And it slows down in October. She’s fishing and hiking and doing that fun stuff on the weekends during the season which I miss, but I will say that one of the nice things about my job—and it is different than say, wilderness rafting or hunt guiding—is that I get to go home every night. I don’t have the 7-14 days away, come back, 2 days at home and then out again. So, I’m home every night regardless of being tired and we get to hang out and spend time together.

BC: That is a nice aspect. So, big question—why do you do it? Why do you guide, that is?

ZM: People. Relationships that I’ve been able to form over the course of my career. Amazing friends and clients and people that you get to meet with different life stories, different experiences, different backgrounds. I think being a guide—for me anyway—fishing, most days, is secondary to hanging out and sharing experiences with good people in beautiful places. That’s how I would classify my job. That’s why all guides love guiding, right?

BC: I couldn’t agree more. If you had to give advice to somebody just stepping on the scene, a younger guide, a generation similar I’m sure to you thirteen years ago when you started guiding, an eager personality, someone who wants to make a life of this… what might you say to them?

ZM: That’s a great question. We all learn differently what we’re good at. But, one thing—and this is fish guiding—while it is about managing expectations, not everybody needs to catch 100 fish that are twenty inches. So, the harder you push for your own ego or your own ‘day’—a lot of times people are happy catching very few fish, being in a beautiful place, and having a great conversation. Rather than, you know, these epic days. You also get those people that need both, but I think the ability to read people is more important than the skillset in the fishing world I would say.

BC: I think you have likely just spoken a universal truth of guiding, I don’t think that is just limited to the fishing world. Would you give a new guide any practical advice, perhaps something ‘less deep’ about how to manage their life?

ZM: No… other than, you’re gonna be poor for a long time. [Laughter] You’re gonna work too much and not make s%&t money, so enjoy it.

GUIDE REAL TALK: TRANSITIONING FROM GUIDING

When the Redside Foundation received the following email to our inbox, we had a feeling that this Idaho guide wasn’t the only one with this question. With permission, the guide’s question, and our answer, is below. We also want to hear from you - what did you transition out of guiding into? How do you deal with the June blues? Or, if you’re a career guide, what has made the off season work for you? Let us know below in the comments.

Dear Redside,

I have been a guide on the Salmon River the last 4 years. I am at a total lost as to what to do with my life. Guiding is the best thing that’s happened to me and the off season has been an absolute struggle. I now have a full time and year round job, but I’m not happy and I need ideas (besides ski patrol) as to what other guides to in the winter to stay financially stable and sane.

I really appreciate the time! Thanks so much.

Dear Idaho Guide,

It's good to hear from you, and thank you for reaching out! I hope you know that while each experience of the guiding career is different, you certainly aren't alone in struggling with the offseason. I know both personally from my work as a guide and professionally in my work for guides how tough it can be to go from a job you love, in a place you love, with people you love, to being cast back into the "normal world" in the fall! And it can be even tougher to transition into a full-time job working 40 + hours a week and watching your crew start up their season without you.

I would definitely recommend giving the Redside Idaho Guide Helpline a call or text (208-740-1192). Working with a counselor or career coach can be invaluable in helping you better define your values, what matters to you in work, and how to structure your time. Whether you go back to working seasonally or find a way to better balance a full-time job with time out on the river, it can be really helpful to have someone impartial in your court. Redside will pay for up to eight sessions or $720 worth of care annually, so it's also no-cost (and confidential)!

From my personal experiences (I'm not a professional counselor to be clear) I will say this - the first June I didn't go back to full time guiding and instead was working for Redside was tough. I am lucky - because of the nature of this work I still get out on a few trips, and obviously still get to take part in the guiding community in a way. But the first season when I didn't get to move out and into my car, I didn't get to spend all spring on outside... I felt awful. It's gotten easier, and a lot of that for me has been around reflecting on what I have now that I couldn't have while guiding. My relationship is stable, I have a dog, I get to serve on a nonprofit board of directors in town, and I have friends I get to spend time with year round. I go on mountain bike rides and eat salad at lunch! That sort of thing. I still get nostalgic this time of year, but I can remind myself of what I get to say YES to when I say NO to a full-time season.

I also always suggest that you shouldn't move on from guiding until you're ready to or you need to (financially/physically/mentally) and there are certainly examples of people making it a life-long career. I see a lot of guides going on the path of teaching or doing an academically-adjacent career. These jobs are often a good fit because they also generally provide health insurance and of course, summers are often yours to guide.

You could also think about ski-industry positions. There are generally jobs beyond ski patrol in accounting, kids programs, rental shops, etc that may be winter seasonal.

I also see guides combining small business with their guiding careers. An example of this is Kelli O'Keefe, who does "FunLuvin FleeceWear" or Kate Stoddard who does "Orchestra Provisions". You can see a whole list of guide-owned businesses here to get a feel for the creativity and passion guides bring to their offseason work!

If you want to be a career guide, it is sometimes important to focus on maximizing your guiding season. Are you working on multiday trips or daily trips? Is the river you're on or the company you're with paying as much as others? What skills can you develop to make you marketable to those "career guide" companies? I also see a lot of career guides working hard to establish themselves in desert rivers such as the Grand Canyon to extend their seasons into Fall/Spring, or working in hunting camps in the fall. There are also international options for guiding, although you want to be mindful of burnout and giving yourself enough time to rest.

If you do commit to being a career guide, I'd recommend setting up an appointment with the Redside Financial Advisor. It's good to get a start toward creating a savings plan or starting to think about retirement plans like ROTH IRAs. In a classic 9-5, your employer will often walk you through this, in guiding usually you have to set yourself up for success.

There’s no one-size-fits-all answer to this question, but know your guiding community is here for you - whether you continue to guide in Idaho or not.

Best wishes and will be thinking of you this summer,

Emerald LaFortune

GUIDE REAL TALK: LIFE AS A GUIDE TURNED OUTFITTER

For many guides, moving toward owning an outfitting business is a sustainable way to continue to participate in the industry of guiding. The Redside Foundation wanted to know more about what it takes to transition from guide to outfitter or guide/outfitter.

For this quarter’s Guide Real Talk, we talked with Erik Weiseth, Ron Ens, and Zach Collier about the challenges and rewards of running the show.

Redside Foundation: How long were you a guide before you also became an outfitter or owner?
Zach Collier (ZC): I was a river guide for 13 summers and a backpacking/mountain biking guide for 4 summers before that.

Ron Ens (RE): 6 years.

Erik Weiseth (EW): 6 years.

Why did you make the choice to become an outfitter?

ZC: The outfitters (Dick Linford and Joe Daly) I was working for were getting ready to retire and they offered me an opportunity to learn from them and eventually purchase their business. I loved guiding so it seemed like a great way to continue.

RE: I've been self-employed most of my life. I like working for myself, I always try to have fun.

EW: It is the most realistic way to sustainably stay in the industry as a career. 

Erik Weiseth (and his future staff?/daughter)

What do you miss about only guiding and what do you prefer about being an outfitter?

ZC: When I guide these days I am a guide, lead guide, and outfitter to the guests as well as an employer to our guides. I’ve learned to enjoy that role, but I do miss having fewer responsibility trips. Being an outfitter is great because this is now my career which allows me to continue guiding without another pesky job getting in the way. I also especially enjoy the community of guides, suppliers, logisticians, and other outfitters I get to work with.

RE: I miss no paperwork!  I make my own schedule and hang on my own hook.

EW:  I miss being in the field in a way where I can be fully present and not be worried about other stuff, wondering what’s going on with other trips, etc. I miss the simplicity of, pack the trip, run a great trip, un-pack the trip.  Now there are so many other parts I have to focus on, it is all just more complicated. I miss being part of the team of guides. Working together and having these common life narratives interwoven for a period of time, sharing in great adventures, and having all these experiences in common. There is something very special about that experience. 

On the outfitter side, I love the challenge of the business and building something. I don’t know if it is a preference because you get part of this as a senior type guide but on the outfitter side, I love seeing these young people (staff) develop a sense of responsibility, confidence in themselves, awareness of the needs of others and so many other great life skills that will make them successful in the incredible things they will go on to do after they leave working for us. I love seeing them develop a passion for rivers that will impact them the rest of their lives. As an outfitter, we are able to introduce young people coming into work for us to something they will be able to share with their kids decades down the road. We are able to be the starting point of a lifelong love for rivers, the outdoors, and adventure in general, which is an honor.  As an outfitter I love interacting with other people in the industry, outfitters are the best people around and to work with them to continue to build our industry is an honor.

Zach Collier

What is one conflict or tough situation with your outfitter you experienced when you were a guide that helps inform the way you outfit today?

ZC: I can’t really think of one. The good example that Dick and Joe set for me has the biggest impact on how I outfit today.

RE: I’ll answer it a different way. An outfitter I worked for treated everyone that worked for him with respect if you messed up it was taken care of respectfully and in private.

EW: I remember feeling like my outfitter did not really understand what we did in the field. That person did not fully understand what they were asking us to do, what it would require, or ultimately that they fully supported us when we had to make calls on the fly. I also remember being frustrated when it felt like the outfitter would not jump in and help with menial tasks. As an outfitter, I have made it a mission that I would never ask a guide to do something I had not already done myself. I also try and jump into the day-to-day tasks as much as I can without neglecting my duties. If I am out unpacking trips, then I am not selling trips or running payroll so there is a balance, but I learned it is important to be in the trenches with your people from working for people who did not do that.

What is one thing you think guides often misunderstand about being an outfitter?

ZC: One thing that was tough when I started outfitting was understanding my role as an outfitter versus guide on trips. As soon as I was the “outfitter" guests wanted to talk with me more which pulled me away from the “real work” that was being done. Guides also pull me aside on trips to talk about the season, previous trips, gear, trucks, etc. Talking to guests (and guides) is now a much bigger part of my job and sometimes takes away from the physical work.

RE: How much money we make. My guides put more in their pocket than I do. At the end of the year, I look at my business as a retirement program - maybe it will work!

EW: Sometimes I get a feeling that guides don’t think their outfitter has their (the guides) needs at the top of the list.  Most often I don’t think that is true.  From my experience, most outfitters are doing everything they can to support their guides and make them as successful as possible, even to the financial detriment of the outfitter.  

Ron Ens

What is the most challenging part of being an outfitter?

ZC: Filling all the trips - it doesn’t magically happen like I thought it would!

RE: Herding all the monkeys working for me! No, I really love my extended family. Working with the agencies is tough sometimes.

EW: This changes day to day but as a simple answer, the sheer breadth of the things one has to keep a focus on. From making sure all the vehicles are maintained, equipment works, sales are happening, permits are managed, the staff is doing what they are supposed to, food is shopped for, etc. More than the jobs of many of my peers there is a broad set of skills one needs to develop in this one.  There are days where you pack bearings on trailers, write HTML code, post on social media, work in QuickBooks, sell trips, prep food in the kitchen, drive a shuttle, repair a water filter, talk to the USFS, and work with employees on HR issues, all in an afternoon.

How do you set up your business to support the health and strength of your guides?

ZC: The biggest thing I’ve done is to make the job as easy as possible for our guides. That means trucks that don’t break, equipment that doesn’t break, a great warehouse, easy systems, and no promises to guests that are hard to fulfill or that we can’t keep. I work hard to make sure our guides aren’t overworked.

RE: I support Redside and just be the ole man anyone can talk to. But I don't give much advice, just listening is the best sometimes.

EW: Ultimately I can tell you what we are trying to do but our guides would really be the ones to answer the question of if we actually are doing it.  I would say we are trying to a couple of things specifically.

1) We create an environment where everyone’s unique talents are appreciated and everyone feels like they can be successful in one way or another, 2) We design training systems where everyone feels they have the skills they need to confidently do their jobs consistently and to thrive at them and 3) We design ongoing internal training that helps people know the expectations of the company and their roles, as knowing expectations allows for confident execution.

What is the best advice you received when beginning to outfit?

ZC: Dick Linford and Joe Daly were my mentors and I was lucky to get a lot great advice from them. Dick’s best advice was “anybody can run a good trip, but not everyone can sell trips."

RE: That would be a book! My favorite though is, “It’s a great life if you don't weaken.”

EW: Do right by your people.  We are in the business of hospitality and your employees are in the business of hospitality.  Your employees’ treatment of their guests are ultimately somewhat of a reflection of the outfitters’ treatment of the employees.

GUIDE REAL TALK: A GUIDE'S GUIDE TO ADDICTION

Loving Loneliness, Asking for Help, & Finding Freedom

Words by: Marisa Mirviss

I won’t lie to you and say that being in recovery from addiction as a river guide has been easy or that it is the best path for an addict or an alcoholic. There are likely safer and easier options out there. But I will say there is nowhere that calls to me, inspires me, or gives me purpose like the river and the wilderness. After spending most of my teenage years and my early twenties embattled with addiction, nearly dying in overdoses and car accidents, I got clean a little less than 5 years ago. I am writing this to share my story and how I have learned to navigate recovery as a guide, so that someone may find hope in their own fight with addiction.

I have thrived. My life today is filled with unimaginable beauty. I get to wake up in the morning and see the sunrise, have meaningful relationships, and be a valuable friend and teammate. And then, there are moments of loneliness. There are nights where everyone around me, my chosen river family, are partying, and I feel isolated and distant because I no longer have the desire to drink. I pause to remember my consequences, and I recall the darkness to which one drink will eventually lead. There is no one to blame for my feeling left out, especially not myself. While there are many guides who have struggled with drugs and alcohol, those of us who have decided to be completely abstinent are few and far between, so I have had to learn to be alone. I have had to find a way to be fully present and grateful for every moment I am alive and blessed with this way of life, no matter how uncomfortable I feel.

Discomfort can be the seed of boundless growth; discomfort can serve a lesson about myself and how I fit into the world. When I run a new rapid, my heart pounds as the horizon line approaches, and while I have an idea of what line to take, I also know that isn’t necessarily where I will end up. In boating and in recovery, I’ve been around for just long enough to know that I don’t know sh%#. The unknown always looms ahead of me. I let go of my ego, my expectations, and I push forward, leaning into what is downstream, whatever that looks like. In recovery, I trust my values, I trust my commitment to myself, I trust this trail I’m blazing, and I trust that the discomfort won’t last and that it’s good for me.

Sometimes it’s beautiful. I have learned to walk away, go sit on a rock by the river and just be. I have learned to enjoy my own company, and enjoy this place I am so fortunate to experience every day. I’ll go to bed early and read books, write letters or draw the river, plants, or birds. I get to wake up with a full engagement with the crisp air, the aromatic sage and ponderosa, the sounds of waxwings and nighthawks, the touch of cold sand and the songs of the river, not with the fog of a hangover or withdrawals or regret from the night before.

If you are struggling with addiction and alcoholism, here are some of the ways I found relief:

• Give yourself a break from drinking and using drugs.

• Talk to someone you trust.

• Ask for help: Redside can connect you with counselors and other resources; they want to help you!

• Seek out a peer-help group, 12-step group, or group counseling.

• Ask yourself: am I being honest with myself about my problems?

• Connect with other guides in recovery, and support one another.

• Focus on social activities that don’t revolve around alcohol and drugs.

• Take a break from guiding if it you need to stay away from substances until you have a foundation in sobriety.

• LaCroix. Lots of LaCroix. No, seriously. No one offers me a drink when I have a drink in my hand!

• Practice saying “No, thank you!” If someone can’t respect your choice to be sober, you don’t need them in your life!

Above all, I have learned this: it is good to ask for help. As guides, we are constantly helping others, we are constantly the experts, we are constantly carrying other people and their stuff into uncomfortable and vulnerable situations, and we are there to be that force of guidance and reassurance. In these uncharted waters of our own minds and hearts, remember: we are not all-powerful. It’s ok to ask for help. It’s ok to need help. It’s ok to say thank you. It’s ok to say “I can’t do this alone, I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t know what help looks like, but I’m going to ask for it.”

Before I got clean, I was asked “What are you afraid of?” I was afraid I would lose my freedom. There was nothing free about my life then, controlled by drug and alcohol abuse. Since I have asked for help and accepted it, I have not only experienced a life beyond my wildest dreams, but I get to have a choice. My decisions, my livelihood, and my wellbeing are not dictated by a dependency on a substance or anything else. When I was in rehab, we had to watch a video about addiction, which happened to be filmed in the Utah desert. Scenery of whitewater and red-rock canyons filled the background. The images in that video may have saved my life. I realized then, I couldn’t go back if I continued to do drugs and drink. My love of guiding, of the sparkle of the sun on eddy lines, watching mergansers surf perfect waves, and running new rivers was the light in the darkness of my addiction. Recovery held a promise of going downriver again, and for the first time, being true to my authentic self. This is what I held onto in the hardest moments.

I encourage anyone who is struggling with their drug and alcohol use, take a break. Stop for a while, educate yourself, call the Redside helpline and talk to a counselor. It can’t hurt. You have nothing to lose. If you are struggling to keep your head above water, eddy out. Find a safe place, sit there for a moment, gather your support around you, scout the next rapid, and make a choice about your line.

GUIDE REAL TALK: FINANCIAL HEALTH

Here at Redside, we understand that financial health, mental health, and physical health are all connected. The Redside Financial Health Helpline launched in Spring 2018, allows guides to talk with a licensed Financial Advisor about topics ranging from credit card debt to savings plans.

For this quarter’s Guide Real Talk, we interviewed former Idaho guide and current Financial Advisor Mickey Smith to dive into the financial struggles and advantages that Idaho guides face.

 This interview includes the topics of Roth IRAs, student loan payments, emergency funds, credit card debt, and savings plans. Find your topic of interest, or scan the whole piece for a great overview of beginning financial literacy for guides.

Emerald LaFortune: Hi, Mickey, thanks for hopping on a call. Let’s start with you telling us about your career path.

Mickey Smith: I went to college in Denver, Colorado, where I started guiding during the summer. I worked on the Arkansas River for three seasons doing day trips. After my undergrad degree, I moved to Missoula, Montana to get a Master's in math and stats. While I was in Missoula, I found another guiding company locally and worked on the Lochsa, Clark Fork, Missouri, and the Main Salmon River. After I finished grad school I worked a few odd jobs, including going to Chile and working as a river guide there. I eventually became a teacher at Missoula College and then a little later at the University of Montana. At the University I was thrown into teaching large statistics lectures which was a lot of fun. I continued to guide during the summers in Idaho and Montana. In my final year guiding, I ended up on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River. The month before moving to Salmon Idaho and the Frank Church for the Middle Fork, I was hired to start working at Merrill Lynch for the upcoming fall. I’ve been a Financial Advisor there since 2016.

Emerald: You've had experience in two pretty contrasting careers - guiding and then mathematics and statistics. I think the differences between the two are obvious, but do you see any similarities between the skills you built while you were guiding and what you do now as a financial advisor?

Mickey: Absolutely. When I first started my job at Merrill Lynch, I thought my business partners hired me because of my analytical skills. I as well thought that my math skills would lend well to my new job. That is certainly true, but one thing I did not realize was that being a river guide taught me how to converse with people and how to serve people in a very special way. The skills I learned while guiding, especially on multi-day river trips, is immensely helpful in my job today. Things like being able to listen to guests and understand when people are in an uncomfortable situation. I use people skills at my job all the time now.

Emerald: Well said. Having been in the guiding industry, what do you think is one or a few of the larger financial challenges that guides face?

Mickey: For me, I usually had a winter gig, but for a couple of summers, or after a couple of winters, I did not. Seasonally, it was always hard to decide what to do with the large chunk of change I had at the end of the summer. I was definitely living mostly paycheck to paycheck and not saving a whole lot of money until I got a job at the university and had a more consistent winter job. It's hard to plan money-wise. You're only making money four months out of the year and then working odd jobs throughout the winter, so that was always a little bit frustrating. I think I kind of just winged it and it usually worked out for me, but winging it sometimes doesn't work out. If you’re one of those people where winging it doesn’t work, having an intentional savings plan is very important. This is of course easier said than done.

Emerald: Do you think on the flip side of that, do you think that there are advantages to that sort of seasonal guiding work and setup?

Mickey: I got to experience a lot of different things guiding. I worked mostly as a guide during my twenties, and I'm super grateful for that time because I was mostly free from obligations. I certainly was not the person to find a routine-based career right after college. Guiding allowed me to learn a lot about myself, develop more soft-skills, and allowed me to meet all sorts of people. Guiding shaped me as a person, and of course, I still boat and use my suite of guiding skills often. I was close to making river guiding a career since guiding and teaching was something I could envision doing long-term. I certainly don't regret being a guide and working seasonally, and the skills I developed are very useful.

Emerald: Can you talk to us a little bit about planning for retirement and some of those real long-term financial goals if you had decided to make guiding a lifetime career?

Mickey: So to put my financial planner hat on, if you do make guiding a career, know that many outfitters don't offer any type of retirement plan. This means you have to be very intentional about how you save for retirement and how you save in general. Utilizing retirement accounts like an IRA, a Roth IRA, or even a SEP IRA could be of help for particular guides. Saving money outside retirement accounts is important too. Things like buying a home could be a great savings avenue. Consider having automatic money transfers to a savings or investment account.

There are limits to IRA contributions so to go above and beyond that you have to be a little bit creative. Whatever you decide, be intentional. Talk to as many people as you can to help formulate a plan, and make sure you execute it.

Emerald: With retirement that there's an advantage to the length of time that an account has to age, correct? So can you give us an example where if you potentially were going to start saving for something like retirement and you started at age 25, how an average account would grow by the time you were 65, given ... Say, I decide I'm going to put $100 into a Roth IRA every month from now, from 25 to 65. What does that start to look like?

Mickey: Without quoting exact numbers, you will be extremely surprised of what it does grow to- even investing less than $100 a month would grow quickly. Especially if it's invested in stocks and or bonds. Retirement account money can’t be accessed until your 60s. Think about these accounts as a “set it and forget” strategy. Naivety is a great planning tool. Spend some time on the front end to get things set up, like establishing a Roth IRA and make auto deposits into it. There are lots of investment and savings apps and websites that make this very simple.  You’ll be amazed; that account can grow to six, sometimes even seven figures, just by saving 10, 15, or 20% of your income each year.

Emerald: I think there's sometimes a personality type in guiding that leans towards the bury your gold in the backyard type of approach to money management. Can you talk a little bit about the risk of investing and how that is managed?

Mickey: There is, of course, risk in investing. Stocks and bonds do and will fluctuate in value. But there is also a risk in doing nothing. Cash can slowly lose purchasing power due to inflation. For example, if you have 100 dollars today, in 1 year your 100 dollars won’t buy the same amount of goods as it would today. Inflation is an invisible risk that can eat away at your cash savings. Historically stocks keep up and or beat inflation. This means you take on different risks but this can be minimized by staying invested over long periods of time. For example, a retirement account you have when you are in your 30s will be invested for over 30 years. That plenty of time to reap the benefits of investing in stocks and minimize the inherent risk.   

Emerald: To shift gears, let's say I'm a guide and have just earned my undergraduate degree and I have let's say $40,000 of student loans that I need to pay back. As a younger person, what's the best place to start with addressing those if the plan is to be a career guide and sort of having that fluctuating income?

Mickey: That's a good question. As a guide with student debt, you have to be very intentional about budgeting. Consider student loans as a basic expense along with other bills. Make sure you are paying back an amount where some of the principal is being chipped away. I wouldn't worry about having student debt as long as you’re disciplined about paying it back. Now, if you're only paying interest, or making payments that don’t fully cover the interest so the loan is actually growing, as the balance is getting larger even though you're paying it back, that's where you have an issue. Paying the highest interest rate loan back first typically the best strategy. Having debt can be mentally taxing and stressful, but you can reduce that stress by making a repayment plan that works for you and sticking to it.

At the same time if you are happy with what you are putting toward student debt don’t avoid other financial goals. Things like buying a home or having some type of emergency fund can be important as well. Don't let student loans be a barrier to your financial plan or other smart money decisions.

Emerald: You mentioned an emergency fund. Can you talk a little bit about why an emergency fund might be important for a career like guiding and what you recommend, not necessarily as a hard amount, but maybe as a percentage of living expenses or as what you recommend when folks are interested in setting something like that up?

Mickey: Emergency funds are something that is totally dependent on your obligations. When you're say, living in your vehicle and working seasonal jobs, you might not have a whole lot of financial obligations. But be aware of those surprise costs like a vehicle repair or lack of work in between jobs.

Your situation of course changes a lot if you owe a home for instance. An emergency fund becomes a lot more important. My emergency fund was nonexistent for most of my 20s but I now have more obligations financially. When thinking about how much you should have saved, ask yourself, “What are my obligations?” In addition, emergency funds can help avoid going down the slippery slope of credit card debt.

Another important reason to have an emergency fund is for insurance deductibles. Look at your deductible on your car and medical insurance. What were to happen if you were to hit a deer somewhere on Highway 12 late at night? Can I afford my deductible? Would I be able to get to work? Would I be able to afford medical bills if I were to break my leg?

Emerald: Will you speak to the advantages and disadvantages of using a credit card? I know a lot of guides who use that credit card as that crutch to get them through the last month or two before their season begins.

Mickey: Credit cards can really spiral out of control. I've been there. I know a lot of people that have been there. It's surprising when you hear about it, but it’s more common than you'd think. Be really careful with credit cards. Be careful with all the promotional points or the cashback. At first, I would use them sparsely. When I first got mine, I just used it for only gas to begin building credit. I talked a lot about how important saving money is, but if you have credit card debt, that is the most important thing to handle. The incredibly high-interest rates make credit card debt the number one thing to get under control. Come up with some way to pay off credit card debt as quickly as possible. This is where your emergency fund comes into play, avoid using a credit card if you know you can’t pay it off by the end of the month.

If you are able to consistently pay your balance on time, credit cards can be helpful to build your credit score. Your local credit union or bank should be able to issue a card without any credit. There will be a really low minimum, but use it for something simple like groceries. If you are worried about credit card debt and you are scared about having access to a credit card, don’t get one. There are other ways to gain credit. There's something called a secured loan, which means you take out a cash loan where you have the same amount of cash already in your bank account. It shows the bank you can make monthly payments on time and manage debt appropriately. It's a great way to earn credit without having a credit card.

Emerald: And credit then becomes very important when you do move forward into larger purchases, such as a home or property.

Mickey: Exactly.

Emerald: It's awkward to talk about money. It's definitely something that's taboo for a lot of us, and that idea gets passed down not only from families but from employers and our coworkers and everything else. Particularly from a guiding perspective, why is it important to ask questions, to take your finances seriously, to understand where your finances are at, and be prepared and have a plan?

Mickey: It's going to make you less stressed and make you happier. The more knowledge you have about money, the more comfortable you will feel dealing with tough money decisions. Also, you will be able to enjoy what you earn more and reduce so much stress surrounding money. Spending money will be a more comfortable decision. When you get off your guiding season and have a savings plan and budget, you can enjoy spending for a month-long road trip. If you have things under control, you can make those decisions and not worry about what's to come.

Emerald: Any last thoughts or pieces of advice for guides who are ready to take their financial planning and systems to the next level?

Mickey: I've had a bunch of my friends ask me a very simple question which I don't think a lot of people have an absolute answer for, which is, "How much money should I save?" I like to spit out the number 20% of your gross income. That doesn't mean that you should put 20% just into your savings account. You can include things like your 401k, your other retirement accounts like your Roth or IRA. Also things like a home, gaining equity in your home is essentially saving money. I know not everyone owns a home, but that's one case that I would certainly include as savings.

Maybe you can't afford 20% right now, start with 10% and try to work up. Increase it by a percent every year. A lot of these things are with the caveat “if you can afford it”. So, if you can't start at 20% then that's okay. Don't let that be a barrier to start somewhere.

Emerald: That's good advice. Start where you can. Thank you for your time, Mickey, and for volunteering your services to Redside through the Financial Health Helpline.

Mickey: Of course. 

Through the Redside Financial Health Helpline, Idaho Guides can set up a no-cost, no-obligation 30-45 minute advice call with Mickey to discuss anything from savings plans to credit card debt to, “Where should I start?”. Learn more here.

Post Season Recovery

Kate Stoddard (MScN & Idaho Guide) shares her suggestions for restoring after a busy season of guiding. From whole foods to mindfulness to meaningful social interactions, her guide is anything but limiting.

Note: The Redside Foundation is not a physician and does not endorse any specific diet, workout, or plan as outlined above. Participants may engage in the attached suggestions at their own risk.