Jeffrey pines, Rush Creek, and the Grand Adventure"I am scared, but I think this is really cool," remarked one boy. I could not see who it was. I did not recognize the voice yet, as the group from First African Methodist Episcopal had only just arrived a few hours ago. We were deep in the forest, hiking, at night, without a flashlight. The imposing silhouettes of Jeffrey pines glided past silently as we hiked. We could barely distinguish the dirt road, just enough to know where to walk. No moon, only bright stars and the glowing Milky Way to give us light. Nervous chatter and laughter put some of the group at ease. After all, it was dark and there could be coyotes lurking just behind those trees! But the fear of darkness and the unknown gave way to a more powerful sense of wonder and awe. Here we were, 350 miles from Los Angeles, relying mostly on our hearing and the feel of our feet on the ground, alone among the trees, the stars, and somewhere out there-the creatures of the night. Because of Mono Lake, we were having a grand adventure. Five groups from Los Angeles traveled to the Mono Basin this past summer to participate in the Outdoor Experiences Program. Two new groups, Iglesia Poder de Dios and Korean Youth and Community Center came up to Mono Lake for the first time. They joined the three groups that had also visited the previous summer, Mothers of East Los Angeles Santa Isabel, First African Methodist Episcopal, and Executive Partners in Environmental Resource Training. All of these community-based organizations participate in the ultra-low flush toilet distribution programs in Los Angeles. They are members of the Los Angeles Water Conservation Coalition, and collectively they represent a cross-section of the population of Los Angeles. For the past three summers, the Mono Lake Committee has worked together with these groups to bring children and young adults to Mono Lake for one simple and powerful reason: to experience the Mono Basin. For the kids in the Outdoor Experiences Program, there is a lot to experience. A good number come from low-income neighborhoods. Most of the children and young adults have never ventured beyond the Los Angeles area. Many have never camped before. Few have heard of Mono Lake. We dive right into the program the first night after setting up the tents and eating dinner. A "night prowl" through the Jeffrey pine forest is a good way to begin by shattering myths and misconceptions about a new place (realizing that coyotes don't hunt humans helps everyone sleep better at night), and how many people can say they've hiked through the forest on a moonless night without a flashlight? Over the next few days we walk Mono Lake's shores, swim and canoe its waters, and hike surrounding volcanoes. In the mountains above Mono Lake we wander along steep-walled canyons, beaver ponds, and alpine lakes. We have snowball fights and get drenched in waterfalls. For most participants, this is the first time for a whole new set of experiences: hands in the snow, waterfall immersions, swimming in Mono Lake, climbing inside a volcano, smelling vanilla-scented Jeffrey pines, canoeing over underwater tufa towers, and even tasting traditional food of the Kuzedika'a-alkali fly pupae. There is, of course, a good dose of education thrown in with all the fun. Words can fill the gaps in our experience, but ultimately, the words alone do not affect change. Learning about the source of Los Angeles's water, realizing the value of Mono Lake and its connection to LA, and comprehending the difference that individual action can make in preserving water resources: these are concepts which can be best understood in the context of experiencing the Mono Basin. We can all understand that we are connected to Mono Lake by water, and that using water responsibly will help protect it, but this knowledge on its own does not necessarily motivate us to care. The most passionate supporters of Mono Lake, past and present, were those who developed a personal relationship with the water and the land. Out of all the activities that take place for each group, perhaps the most powerful one is helping with stream restoration. Three of the Outdoor Experiences groups helped water newly planted Jeffrey pines along Rush Creek. Periodic watering is critical to the survival of newly planted seedlings. At first, some of the kids complained a little about what sounded like work. Dissatisfaction mounted when we arrived at Rush Creek. A hot afternoon, no shade, lots of mosquitoes, and we had to wade across the creek to reach the pines. After a brief explanation of why we do restoration work and how to water the Jeffrey pines, we began the task. An amazing transformation took place. Nearly everyone became obsessed with watering the trees. All but necessary conversation ceased. Kids searched out young Jeffrey pines hidden among the sagebrush as if their very lives depended on it. Watering the young trees suddenly became an all-important mission. Anything that even remotely resembled a Jeffrey pine seedling got water. What provoked the swift change in attitude? Was it something I said? I doubt it. Was it the opportunity to restore stream habitat and give something back to Mono Lake? Maybe. Was it the memory of tall Jeffrey pines beneath countless stars? Everyone probably had slightly different reasons. How do you measure success in environmental education, or more specifically watershed education? This is the question I find myself asking after my first summer leading the Mono Lake Committee's Outdoor Experiences Program. Pictures can stir the heart, but add sound, smell, touch, some well-placed ideas, and even taste, and you have the ingredients necessary to form a lasting relationship. Watershed education is about establishing relationships. Everyone who came to Mono Lake this past summer continued a relationship or began a new one with the water and the land. But what is the measure of a successful relationship? This is subjective and can not exactly be quantitatively analyzed. With environmental education we can set goals and objectives, satisfy them, and declare some success, but can this be the true measure of our efforts? Perhaps decades from now when we restore Mono Lake, its streams and waterfowl habitat, and meet real water needs without further compromising what precious little of our natural water resources we have remaining, maybe then we can truly measure our success. Bartshe Miller is the Committee's Education
Director. If you know of a group from Southern California
or the Bay Area that might fit with the Outdoor
Experiences Program, please contact him at (760) 647-6595
or via e-mail at
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