Summary

Samantha Blake recounts her humbling experience of being the least experienced member of a trail maintenance crew, which taught her resilience and the value of being at the back of the line.

Abstract

Samantha Blake, after facing an identity crisis post-college, joins an AmeriCorps trail maintenance crew for a three-month term in California. Initially confident in her physical fitness and outdoor skills, she is quickly humbled by the experienced crew members who outpace her significantly. Despite the challenge, she perseveres through the physically demanding work, learning to appreciate the beauty of the wilderness and the personal growth that comes from being the least skilled. Her journey from the back of the line to gaining strength and confidence underscores the importance of embracing new experiences and the lessons that come from being a novice.

Opinions

The author initially held an inflated view of her own abilities, believing she would excel in the backcountry environment.
She experienced a significant reality check upon realizing her crewmates were far more adept at trail work and outdoor living.
The author believes that everyone should experience being the least skilled to keep their ego in check.
Despite the initial struggle, the author values the strength and perspective she gained from her position at the back of the line.
The experience shifted her focus from trying to be the best to simply improving herself and enjoying the journey.

The Time I Learned the Most By Being the Worst

Here’s why we should all be back of the line.

“Backcountry.”

Even just saying the word to myself made me feel cool.

My heart swelled with excitement at the thought of being part of a trail crew, far back in the woods, beyond the reach of modern society and all its distractions. I was strong, I was confident, and I couldn’t wait to start my journey in the “great outdoors”.

I had no idea what was in store.

Right after graduating college, I had somewhat of an identity crisis and ended up looking for volunteer work to fill my time, while I figured out what I wanted to do. My search ended up leading me to trail maintenance, and with my love of nature, quest for something new, and at the time my desperation for adventure, I signed on for a three-month AmeriCorps term building trails throughout California.

When my first backcountry project appeared my schedule, I was thrilled.

I wanted to be out there in the wilderness, with nothing but my small crew and the elements, proving to the world and myself that I was nitty-gritty and “one with nature”.

Cue eye roll.

I had prepared for this — gotten all the gear, read all the brochures, and worked myself into great physical shape. After all my preparation I was fairly confident — cocky, even — that I was probably going to be one of the fittest girls in my class.

That might have been true, had there been other ‘new recruits’. But as it turned out, my crew consisted of a group of people who’d already been serving for a few months at least, and I was the freshest of the batch.

On the first day of the project I realized that I was NO match for these people.

My heart sank as I realized my coworkers weren’t your typical work-out-sometimes-at-the-gym, toned-but-not-obsessively-muscular average active people. They were naturally muscular because they worked hard on trails, they were already used to being outside, and had perfected their packing of supplies so they could hike steadily up the mountain without a care in the world.

My situation, on the other hand, was practically laughable.

Weighed down with an absurdly oversized and heavy pack, I struggled every leg of the trip up the mountain. The first day was spent hiking up 5 miles to the campsite, sorting out all the food we’d brought, and setting up camp.

I was the last one to arrive, by a long time.

Though the hike was pretty short compared to other trips (which I couldn’t even fathom at the time!), it was a very steep trail that wound all the way up the mountain. We turned off the trail below the ridge and hiked another half-mile to a small canyon where the camp was located.

My legs were shaking by the time I got to camp; I was so tired that I didn’t even have energy to revel at the beauty of the wilderness that would be our home from now on. The wilderness I had been so excited to experience.

The first day of work, I learned that we had to hike all the way up to the ridge — a daunting task.

It took almost an hour to trek all the way to our work zone at the top. That first day was gruelling for me, and I was in the very back of the line, sometimes completely out of sight of everyone else. One of the safety reminders we were told was to “hike at your own pace”, but that means nothing when you’re used to being in great shape.

Before signing up for this work, I thought I was physically fit. I had considered myself to have an active lifestyle.

Now though, drenched in sweat and doing my best to continue breathing in the thin air, I was at first incredibly annoyed at myself, and then truly humbled. I came to realize that although I was accustomed to being in the best shape of many people I knew, this was a whole different ball game.

I wasn’t the best; I wasn’t even mediocre. I was literally at the back of the line, last to arrive, every time.

I believe everyone should be at the back of the line every once in a while, and not by choice. It helps keep that swelling ego under control.

It certainly did a number on mine.

It was exhausting, painful, and seemed never-ending, but eventually the experience got easier and I was able to enjoy the beautiful scenery, and make friends with my coworkers. Throughout the entire time we were on that mountain, not once was I able to get to the work site first. But that thought had evaporated from my mind from the first day I set foot on that trail.

My goal became to simply get up that mountain without feeling like my heart would spontaneously combust.

And I did it, day after day, for three months.

Sometimes we need a reality check on our lives, to remind us that we still have a lot to learn. Out there in the wilderness I gained strength I didn’t even know I needed, and I gained it all from the back of the line.