Voices from the Field: Conservation Corps

RMYC trail crew members gain a gamut of experiences during their sessions in the field, from hard work alongside teammates to relaxing with workmates-turned-friends afterwards around a campfire in the Great Outdoors. The following Session Testimonies, complied from Conservation Corps crew members (age 18 and older) over the course of the summer 2024 season, reveal a few thoughts they’re happy to share about the experience. This installment: poetry, musings, and more from crews executing fuel mitigation work in Medicine Bow Routt National Forest.

“As a member of the Youth Corps, you trade in your wi-fi for wildlife and your streaming for streams…”

“Oh, the Rocky Mountain

Youth Corps, where the trees are tall and the spirits are high! Working for RMYC is a scene from a nature documentary, except you're not just watching, you're doing. Imagine waking up with the sun, rolling out of your sleeping bag like a burrito unwrapping itself, and greeting the day with a yawn that echoes off the mountains. But you're not just here to enjoy the view. You're here to work, sweat, cut down trees and build friendships that are as solid as the Rockies themselves. As a member of the Youth Corps, you trade in your wi-fi for wildlife and your streaming for streams. Your office? The great outdoors. Your uniform? Dirt, with a chance of pine needles. Your coworkers? A crazy crew that calls themselves PAPAS and most likely stinks 75% of the time. You'll spend your days wielding chainsaws with names like Snowflake and Backscratcher. Lunch breaks are always a little funky as my crew always takes their shoes off to ‘let the dogs breathe’ and that’s when it’s always the hardest to get back to the hard work. After all the work it’s time for dinner, a little foot bag, and to finally relax before starting the next crazy, fun, hard day.”

         —Eliah Nielsen

In the heart of the West, beneath a sky so blue,

We gathered as ten, my trusty crew. 

With conservation our noble aim,

We worked and toiled yet found our game. 

At day’s end, with spirits high, 

We pulled out the sack, under twilight sky. 

Impersonating animals, wild and free, 

Our feet were barking, oh such glee. 

With every kick and playful bark, 

We danced around the circle, leaving our mark. 

Feet as dogs, we howled and pranced, 

In our hacky sack game, our spirits danced. 

We’d put in a culvert, so tough, so grand,

In a campsite nestled in this wild land. 

It was hard work, but with each laugh and jest, 

We found the challenge was simply the best. 

Then Victoria, our leader, with a twinkle so bright, 

Took a daring kick, a moment of flight. 

My friend with his hat, in a bold embrace, 

Tried to catch the sack, but met her foot, his face. 

In that moment, picturesque, slow-motion scene, 

A ballet of mishap, playful and keen. 

Laughter erupted, a bonding glue, 

In the Western wilds, our spirits flew. 

For in our crew, ten hearts so bold, 

The tales of our hacky sack games are told. 

With feet as dogs and hearts so free, 

In the land of the West, forever we’ll be.

         —Andrew Foulk

“Our crew stayed in the beautiful Maroon Bells in Aspen. With such stunning views comes a lot of daily visitors, and with them some curious furry friends attracted by the buffet of smells. We had a few run-ins with black bears around our campsite. When making dinner one night, an older cub appeared behind the kitchen. No doubt enjoying the smells of our gourmet Buddha bowls, the bear wasn’t prepared for the symphony of yells and banging of pots and pans that ensued. It didn’t stick around much longer but it did make a few more appearances before the week’s end with the same result. A U.S Forest Service member stayed at the site a couple hundred feet away from our tents and we heard a yell come from him. All eleven of us rushed over, grabbing our trusty pots and pans while exercising our outside voices in effort to scare the bear. When we arrived, we were greeted with an older and much larger bear rearing up on its hind legs to get a better look. While I’d never seen anything like it before and was intimidated by its tall stature, there is power in numbers and noise. After a minute of pot-banging it dropped to all fours and ran back into the woods. If I have learned one thing this week it’s that you can never be too bear aware and that it’s a great to have a great crew around you, ready to spring into action at any moment.”

         —Preston Martin