Vicki Larson's OMG Chronicles

As I made my way up Highway 101 to work today, I caught just a snippet of the news on the radio — a handful of teenagers had been mauled by a bear in the Alaskan wilderness.

What are teenagers doing in the wilds of Alaska, I thought to myself, and then just as quickly thought — oh, I wonder if …

When I got to work, I searched the wires and my suspicion came true; the teens were part of a NOLS (National Outdoor Leadership School) trip, and my heart sank a little. I was so fearful this would hurt NOLS, an amazing organization. Both my boys had been on NOLS trips a few years ago — for one, it was a grand adventure, for the other it was transformative. “Mom,” the older one told me the first time he could call me after five weeks in the Wyoming wilderness, “I feel so accomplished.”

I practically cried when I heard those words. For the mom of a super-smart and kind boy who struggled academically, those were powerful words.

I am so thankful the teens on that Alaska trip are OK, although a few sustained some serious injuries. And I’m hopeful that this incident — a rarity in NOLS’ 40 years and in general — doesn’t turn people away from this wonderful organization and the experience of the wilderness. It is yet again a reminder of how far removed we are from our natural environment; as the director of the Alaska Moutaineering School and sometimes NOLS instructor Colby Coombs told the Alaska Dispatch, “It’s the real deal here. You can’t video game, all over.”

Indeed.

I experienced some of that myself last summer when, on the one day off from an intensive week killing invasive Russian olive trees in Utah’s Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument — a trip organized by Wilderness Volunteers and my first time camping in 30 years — I joined a few others on a hike to a slot canyon. We left base camp under somewhat darkening skies and three-quarters of the way to the canyon it started to rain. Then it started to pour; then the hail came. As I stood under a tree with the others — woefully underdressed and unprepared and nervously watching the now-muddy river swell insanely fast — all I could think of was, “Flash flood.” Thankfully others had come prepared, and we made it back to base camp safe if somewhat frozen and soaked.

Parents have been calling NOLS worried about safety, questioning the idea that the kids were alone (a huge part of the NOLS experience) and all the other things parents worry about; honestly, I was one of those parents, too, calling at week No. 4 of my older son’s trip. I was apologetic as I mumbled to the poor NOLS woman who happened to pick up the phone that I hadn’t heard anything, only to be answered by the appropriate response — “no news is good news.”

The hardest part of being a parent — after so much time and energy raising our kids and trying to keep them safe, healthy and alive — is letting go when they’re ready, and having faith in what our kids can do. If we’ve done our job right, they’re fine.

My prayers go out to the boys and parents whose sons were hurt in Alaska. It’s what keeps parents up at night — the nagging fear that something bad will happen to them. And sometimes bad things do happen — I know parents whose children have died from illness or by suicide or by accident. I cannot imagine the pain. But I also hope the parents and the boys on the NOLS trip themselves feel proud that they took care of each other and did everything right, as they were trained to do. Says NOLS spokesman Bruce Palmer:

“I’m extremely proud of the students in their response to the incident after it occurred. They set up a camp to take care of the students. They used their first aid that they’ve been learning, put that to play as well. So, we’re quite pleased with the response the students had in a very scary and difficult situation. It says to me that they can handle a lot of responsibility. We can always second guess that. I think young people can handle a lot of responsibility if given the opportunity.”

I know my boys can. It was only after my younger son’s five weeks in the Wyoming wilderness — the same trip his older brother had done two years’ prior — that he told me about the lightning storm that took his NOLS group by surprise, before they had a chance to protect themselves. They were scared and vulnerable — stuck in the middle of a wide-open field — and yet they did the right thing. Still, they were lucky.

Life is full of all sorts of dangers big and small, dangers that occur with much more frequency than bear maulings, and we can’t protect our kids from all of them. All we parents can do is learn by paying attention and listening to our kids; teach them as best we can; support them and believe in them — and then hope. And, of course, we can help them find ways to feel accomplished. Without a doubt, NOLS is a great way to do that.