Outward Bound Course YLT48 Armstrong, Northern Ontario, Canada

I crouch in a trench made by a fallen tree as the storm beaks around my friends. Curled up in my rain jacket I spoon food into my mouth as water pools in my bowl. Suddenly a small figure leaps down and joins me in the quest for shelter. Jason, The jacker, the boy who hates cotton more than anything else on our trip and who can find chocolate anywhere. As we sit there laughing, the wind reaches a new peak and my barrel top lifts off and journeys down stream, leaving my clothes unprotected.

That night, soon after our tarp is flattened by a tree, I lie shaking in my tent. The tree roots lift up under us with every gust of wind and Al rises with a look of terror on his face. As all this is happening I think how sad I would be to be crushed by a tree now I am so close to the end of my expedition.

Outward bound had always been a requirment for Shackleton and I had never relished the prospect. I didn’t like the idea of being in a canoe for a month and eating camp food, and I am always partial to having a toilet near me. Fortunately, however hard I tried I could not negotiate and soon found myself floating in a red canoe somewhere in Southern Canada.

Each day as we paddled in our canoes down rapids and across lakes I felt calmer and more self assured. The birds flew around above me, the forests were dark and calm and our group moved through the wilderness. For the first two weeks things were stressed and it seemed as if we would never finish the course.

During this time I was trying very hard not to get into arguments which I found a struggle. Tempers usually rise when your cold and wet, the food portions are small and the man next to you in the tent smells. I had to learn not provoke people and try not to speak as much. I find I talk alot at inappropriate times and that this annoys allot of people.

One thing the course really taught me is that sometimes I do have something to say and that people will listen. For instance people chose my motto “Silence is silver, trust is gold” which I was very happy about. And for our name we chose “The Phantoms of Spetsnaz” Which was my joint creation.

As we wake and pack up camp, closing our barrels and slinging them into the boats I realize something. How ever bad things get out here, when the wind blows and I get wet, when some seem close too tears I always have something. Eight people stand beside me through thick and thin. What ever happens and wherever I am in the world I am still a Phantom of Spetsnaz.