Photo: Gretchen and son, Richie; Galbraith Gap Run. 2020
When Covid shutdown the world as we knew it in Spring 2020, fear and uncertainty became the feeling-tone for many amidst growing social tension and rampant sickness threatening our communities. Children suffered the most, with detrimental, lingering social and emotional impact, especially on children like my son, Richie, who is on the Autism spectrum. Richie needs routine, predictability, and an environment that harmonizes with his senses. Every aspect of the Covid upheaval had him on edge; he was unable to do online schooling, and just when his anxiety pushed my own to the limit, he gave me the answer as he paced the living room one afternoon. I had given up arguing with him over the undone assignments, as his attention was clearly deep inside his own mind.
"Richie, what is wrong?" I asked.
"I'm nervous because I heard grocery stores are running out of water... their shelves are just empty," he responded.
This was not the first time he surprised me with the depth of content of his worry. Luckily, this was a worry I could demolish with some hands-on fun. I grabbed the water filter from my backpacking gear, tossed him his sneakers and a jacket, and off we went to Tussey Mountain, a short five-minute drive from our house.
As we hiked the Three Bridges Trail, I explained to Richie that water is a natural resource that is provided by the earth: the further we walk up the mountain, away from human beings, farm animals, and other pollutants, the cleaner the water will be-- the earth further cleans and filters the water of any contaminants it may have picked up, and we can find fresh water springs in some areas on mountains where the water is fresh, and safe to drink straight from the earth. Just then we came out at such a freshwater spring and I filled a few smaller jugs I carried with me. Richie smiled and he delighted in the taste of the crisp, cold early spring water in his mouth.
I then lead him to the Galbraith Gap Run where the water flowed rough and free. We played for a while, crossing trees from one side to the other, and then I explained to him that the water in the run could also be gathered for drinking, but since it flowed a greater distance down the side of the mountain, there was greater chance it picked up contaminants from animals, humans, and the environment, so I showed him how to use the pump and filter units I carried while backpacking the Appalachian Trail. Richie was so proud of himself that he could easily figure out how to use them, and gather nice, clear water that was able to be consumed and/or stored. I watched his confidence rise, and his demeanor relax. I was on to something. Not only was I on to something, but we both felt a lot better. The stress of being trapped inside the house, arguing with him about schoolwork while arguing with the school about his limitations, all while juggling my full-time work as a Pennsylvania State Trooper at that time, had reached a boiling point, and Richie's anxiety gave us an outlet into nature. Our healing friend.
From that day forward, every day, before or after work, and all day on my days off, Richie and I were on the trails and in the mountains. Sometimes if the weather was bad, or time was limited, we just packed a lunch and parked the car somewhere remote, near a creek, popped the trunk hatch, laid the backseats down, and had a tailgate picnic in the back of my car-- listening to the sounds of nature and feeling the fresh air. I would teach him wilderness skills, or general things about nature. I taught him to build fire and shelter. Sometimes he became frustrated or tired. Sometimes he cried. Sometimes he had the biggest smile. He was ALWAYS proud of himself.
That special time Richie and I spent together outdoors, in nature, learning, healing, and growing during Covid was a pivotal time for both of us. After returning to public school upon reopening the following year, Richie ended up leaving the bigger public school and I enrolled him in a very small, private Charter School with a base environmental curriculum, and he matured so much better emotionally, socially, and academically. As for myself, I returned to my roots. That time with Richie in nature reminded me of my own upbringing in nature, close to nature-- sailing, camping, and hiking. An upbringing in which nature was a trusted friend. Over the years, nature was the place I returned to heal myself, to find refuge, but I had really lost that intimate connection to her as a close friend until I had returned to her so vulnerable with my son at my side; When I began showing him how to take care of himself in nature, because she would in turn take care of him, I knew I wanted to advance my own wilderness survival skills, and begin teaching my lifetime of accumulated survival knowledge to others.
And as Richie gets older, he may be a little more difficult to motivate away from his video games, but after a suggestion of getting out into nature sinks in for a few minutes, he perks up and he gets excited. There is something undeniably enticing about getting out there and challenging oneself against the elements in an outdoor adventure that takes hold once that friendship is developed with nature that even a pre-teen boy cannot deny. This past week, I took him whitewater rafting and ziplining in the New River Gorge of West Virginia. It was his first time, as this is the first year his age of twelve qualifies him to participate. I could see the tension and apprehension growing as we geared up at the outfitter, and I reassured him he had the skills and the ability to execute the instructions of the Guide and keep himself safe. I reminded him that he is a strong swimmer and he knows how to listen and follow instructions, all would be well. He had a wonderful time on the river. He did not fall off the raft one time. He played it safe, he did not take risks, he enjoyed the day with a smile and he is looking forward to returning again next year and doing it again. He was enchanted by the beauty of the Gorge, and the memory of a Bald Eagle that flew overhead.
The following day, we rode a bus high into the mountains to a set of ziplines that offered the most beautiful views and rides over the treetops. He has done ziplines in the past, but none this remote, fast, or high. By line number three, his anxiety was in overdrive because he knew they only became faster and higher as we progressed higher on the mountain. I reassured him I was proud of him and I asked one of the Guides if I could hike him down to the base. She said no. There was no trail and she could not assure safety. I respected her answer, and she told Richie very nicely he would need to do two more lines before she could get an ATV up an access trail to get him down the mountain. My boy looked her in the eye through tears and agreed. He faced his fear head on, and he pushed through. He got on the line and continued. Our small group cheered him on and told him how inspiring he was, and how proud of himself he should be. When the ATV came to pick him up, he assured me he would be okay at the bottom until I finished the course, as there was only room on it for one passenger. This is the same boy whose Autism will lock his mind in fear and grip so hard around that fear, we have found ourselves deadlocked in airports with him unwilling to board a plane. Get him into nature, and he stands up in the face of his fear, his limitations fall away, he pushes through that fear, even with tears rolling down his face, and is even willing to separate from me and feel safe during the process, among strangers, because nature is his friend. She makes him feel safe even in the face of fear. Richie has been talking about his ziplining adventure as though it was a tremendous success-- because it was exactly that. I couldn't be prouder of him.
Richie is internalizing that nature is a friend that builds our confidence. She shapes our character and develops our grit. His intuition is connected to her, he knows she will take care of him so long as he respects her, and he respects himself along the way. I am moved emotionally to watch this happen for my son the same way it happened for me as a child, and I am beyond excited about the adventures that lay ahead of us as this potential unfolds for him.
by Gretchen Swank
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