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WFR, Ice, and adventures where the grass is green

Last night we ran a simulated mass casualty incident in the woods outside of town, to test our students ability to perform medical care under duress. As they ususally do, they excelled despite out best efforts to shake them through the generous application of pig guts, stage blood, smudge fires, and screaming. Always with the screaming. But the reasoning goes, if they can perform under these most intense of situations, when confronted with the far more probable reality of a simple car accident or broken ankle in the backcountry, they will have little trouble. But the intense 9-10 hours a day these last 8 days takes a toll on student and instructor alike, and we are all glad the final exam is tommorrow. They are ready for it, and I am ready to begin tailoring the program for this fall's semester long class. There is much work to be done.

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I was sitting in the living room tonight and got to looking at some photo's of Antarctica that a friend of mine took. Looking at them, I felt like I was there. I was cold. I remembered the snow on New Year's Eve, how the wind bit my gloveless hands on Thanksgiving. I could taste the Kiwi beer, hear the music at the Helo Hangar party, the Halloween party, the 70's party, all the parties that blended together. I could see my friends, and the scores of people and handful of places that made up my world for so long. It is hard to think that I won't be back this season. Hopefully down the line, but it is hard to say. I guess the grass is always greener in the other hemisphere... I can also remember, when I take the time to do so, the acute homesickness. But staying busy helps keep me happy with where I am. Speaking of happy with where I am, how about a picture from last week's trip to Coal Mine Canyon:

Homecoming

Of the many times I have left Flagstaff over the last 7 years, often for many months at a time, this has been perhaps the best homecoming I have ever had. No ripping huge party or parade or people greeting me at the door. Actually the house was empty, as I more or less snuck back into town no telling anyone of my exact arrival time. But it was a myriad of other things, both large and small. My favorite local bluegrass band was playing at the Wine Loft. Old friends, co-workers, and the random familiar faces that make up the landscape of Flagstaff were around, and they remembered my name! Spring time in my mountain town, and bbqs and people coming out of hibernation. The house was rebuilt (mostly) after the fire last year. 15 months I've been out of the house. I have been offered and accepted a job at the university heading the wilderness medicine program. And I'm sort of seeing a gal that I met almost a year ago, and suprise of suprises we managed to stay in touch.

So life is good. People keep asking how Antarctica was, and so I relate the good times and funny stories, but the hard parts and problems are buried under 2 months of leisure travel in the south pacific. I had a great time and can't really concieve of never going back to the Ice again, but I think I'll try and give stability a try for awhile, stability being a relative term of course.