Wilderness First Responder (Arrival)
Residents of New Hampshire choose to do varying things to deal with the winter weather. Some embrace it, go skiing, snowshoeing, ice skating, make big cozy fires and work through their queue of books, etc. Other people take the opposite approach and head due south to escape the cold. Few people actively seek colder, snowier, and altogether more foreboding conditions. I usually fit into the first category; I have been an avid snowboarder and cross-country skier since I was little and always celebrate when the first flakes of snow stick to the ground around wherever it is I am living that season. This winter, however, I have driven three hours north of camp to participate in a challenge which, by itself, is already daunting. I am pursuing a Wilderness First Responder (WFR) certification, something most normal people would not attempt in the best of meteorological conditions, never mind two feet of snow and sub-zero wind chills; the things I do for the betterment of Camp Birch Hill.
The course was meant to start on Saturday morning, but in order to be here on time for class I planned to arrive the night before to move into my bunk and settle in. Leaving New Durham, NH at about 4:00 PM, a steady blizzard materialized, strengthening as I made my way up Route 28. I quickly pulled over to the side of the road, tossed on the 4WD on my ageing, but loved, Nissan Xterra, and kept on moving. Upon arrival at the final location it was 7:30 PM and about 14 degrees Fahrenheit. I followed signs indicating where WFR students should go, lugging my pack, clothes, and winter gear along, and found a quaint cabin situated partially in the woods, partially in a field. There was one other guy there already so I threw my stuff on a bunk and we spent the next hour chatting about what to expect from the course.
From what I had heard from previous participants and read on the online description (http://www.soloschools.com/wfr.html) the 80 hour course would instruct me in the art of dealing with injuries and ailments of all sorts while in a wilderness setting. Stories ranged from being torn from our bunks to help in mock rescues in the middle of the night, getting doused with fake blood to simulate cuts, and having to carry “injured” people multiple miles with improvised carts. Of course we had no idea what our instructors would throw at us but a common sense of adventure and a love for the outdoors told us that we would be ready for it. By later that evening the bunk had filled up with more people and we awaited the start of the course in the morning.
I will be posting from here in Fairlee, VT until the end of the WFR course. Next post will be about the first few days of the course, the good stuff I have learned, and how it is going to make Birch Hill an even better place than it already is!
