Introductions: Fossey

I have many names: daughter, sister, wife, lover, friend.  My legal name is Carlyn.  But the name I think I identify with most is Fossey.
Dian Fossey, one of Louis Leakey's angels, was sent into the depths of the African jungles to further our understanding into gorilla behavior.  Along with Jane Goodall, who studied chimpanzees, and Birutė Galdikas, who studied orangutans, these three women pioneered the study of animal behavior.  Fossey's work was dedicated to studying the mountain gorillas of the Virunga Volcanoes in the Congo.  She founded the Karisoke Research Center and spent many years observing her precious gorillas.  She began to focus on the illegal poaching and bush meat trade within the national park and she soon made many enemies.  After Christmas in 1985, Fossey was found murdered in her cabin, presumably by some of her enemies made through her interference with the poachers.  She was independent and strong-willed.  She courageously lived everyday with the dedication of making the world better.  Her last diary entry made clear her understanding of her life and the importance of her kind of work:

"When you realize the value of all life, you dwell less on what is past and concentrate more on the preservation of the future."

After attending Camp Mosey Wood, a Girl Scout camp in the Poconos of Pennsylvania, for five years, I knew I wanted to be a camp counselor there.  2007 was my first summer and the best one by far.  I always knew that I wanted my camp name to be 'Fossey" and I was glad that I was able to take my hero's name as my moniker.  It was always an interesting story with parents and my campers and monkeys and apes are plentiful in stickers, pins, and other do-dads to adorn my staff tie.  Through my years working at camp, I've come to understand my fellow Girl Scouts and the honor we seek daily.  Especially within the words held most dear to us Girl Scouts, do I see the things I admire in my sisters:

"I will do my best to be
honest and fair,
friendly and helpful,
considerate and caring,
courageous and strong, and
responsible for what I say and do,
and to
respect myself and others,
respect authority,
use resources wisely,
make the world a better place, and
be a sister to every Girl Scout."
                                             ~ The Girl Scout Law

I've been a Girl Scout for 22 years.  I have a bachelor's degree in Anthropology and Archaeology with a minor in History from Millersville University.  I volunteered as a primate interpreter at the Philadelphia Zoo for a summer.  I interned at the Bermuda Maritime Museum cataloging cannons and shipwrecks during the summer of 2006.  I love to camp, hike, bike, climb, and kayak.  I love to read, write fiction, and blog.  I have an amazing husband and an incredibly supportive family.  I've attested that when an ultra-runner and an ultra-swimmer have a baby, they make a backpacker.  I live for adventure and spending time outdoors in the wilderness, deep in the forests, and high in the mountains.  I'm currently pursuing a future in Environmental Education and Non-Profit Management.  I hope to work in the promotion and conservation of national lands.

So what's in a name?  A name is your character.  A name is your core.  Your name holds the power of your confidence and judgement.  Who you were, who your are, and who you will someday be is within your name.  I am 'daughter, sister, wife, lover, friend,' but I'm more than that.  I'm a relic of my past and a changer of the future.  I'm an independent of my own self and a dependent of my heart.  I value opinion and am a conveyor of knowledge.  I am brave, adventurous, loyal, and compassionate.  Life is beautiful and every day I'm blessed with the knowledge that I'm alive and am influencing future generations of people.


My name is Carlyn.  But I am Fossey.

Welcome to Rocksylvania

Blue skies, low-80s, barely a cloud in sight - we could not have asked for a better day.  With this beautiful forecast gracing our adventure, my boyfriend and I set out for Hawk Mountain Sanctuary.  Hawk Mountain, famous for its vast birding opportunities, is located along the Atlantic flyway in the Blue Mountains and features a stretch of the Appalachian Trail.  With beautiful scenic overlooks and a variety of trails to choose from, we were ready to hit the trails!

The trail name should have been our first clue.  "River of Rocks" was its name and rock hopping was its game.  After the gradual, wheelchair accessible climb to the South Overlook and the trail head, we were suddenly met with a steep, rocky descent to the valley below.  As the trail leveled out, the real fun began.  As we weaved through the lush, spring green forest, the trail transformed.  Small, jagged rocks became large, glacial boulders.  The ground beneath our feet became lost to the shadows of these ancient masses.  The trail markers slowly disappeared from the trees around us and appeared at our feet.  We began planning our moves by the shape and supposed sturdiness of the next rock.  We hopped our way down the trail until sunlight stopped us in our tracks.  The trail opened up along a barren field of boulders.  The sun was hot against our skin as we ventured out of the shadows.  

After a quick pit-stop to refuel and snap a selfie, we hiked back into the shade of the forest and continued on our way.  As we leapt along the trail, we kept hearing what sounded like a babbling brook, but with no stream in sight, we were puzzled.  We paused long enough to discover that this peculiar sound was coming from below our feet, beneath the boulders themselves.  We could hear water rushing below us without a care in the world.  Soon after some friends joined in the adventure.  Peeking out from under a leaf we met a small frog.  He was hopping along just as we were, but on a slightly smaller scale.  We also ran into a rather large snake...right in the middle of the trail.  Shawn might have stepped on him had I not pointed the reptile out.  

Soon the trail rounded the end of the river of rocks and mirrored the back side of the boulder fields.  With the heat of the day upon us and a chorus of bird song riding the breeze, we started the gradual climb back up the mountain.  The trail reverted back to its former self.  The large, glacial boulders that made up the valley behind us slowly shrank - the dirt began to show itself in longer stretches.  Then, abruptly, the path turned up.  Yes, up...like a 90° up.  Steep was kind of an understatement.  After the grueling climb to the top, we came to a crossroad.  We had three options. Right would lead us away from our destination, wrong.  We weren't sure where straight would lead us, wrong (although we would come to regret that decision).  So we went left.  

Welcome to the Escarpment Trail.  A battle between hiker and stone.  Boulders rose once again from the earth in large piles.  Rock hopping was a thing of the past - we were now rock scrambling.  We pushed forward on tired legs; up and down we went.  Every so often blue sky peeked through the leaves, opening to another overlook of the valley where we had just come from.  Several overlooks later, after a slight brush with an unfriendly sort of rock, we arrived back at the wide, well-worn ground of a more traveled path.  Sweaty, bleeding (on my part) and grinning, we headed back to the car hand in hand, enjoying the high of fresh air and adventure.  

We later learned that had we gone straight at the crossroad, we would have reached the main path just around the next bend.  But hey, what's life without a little adventure? 

  

Reunited in the Mountain Stream

When my good friend took a break from thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail to come into town for her college graduation, an adventure together seemed like a no-brainer.  We previously had some exciting adventures: backpacking to alpine lakes, snowshoeing in the mountains, rock scrambling like bighorn sheep on a canyon wall, getting our car stuck in two feet of snow... you get the picture.  High 75, sunny, breezy, Sunday's weather conditions were perfect for a beautiful forest hike.

We anticipated creek crossings, but the trail was overgrown and we couldn't go further than a mile.  So how did we spend the afternoon?  Swimming in the Middle Fork Teanaway River, although I use the term 'swimming' loosely.  There's a perfect swimming hole right by the trail head: rock stairs into the water upstream, an 8-foot deep pool, and a gradual gravel exit downstream.  The rocks above the pool hover at only two feet above the water, such a great place to jump into the snow melt.

We both hesitated for almost twenty minutes before I finally took a breath and jumped in.  That breath was instantly jolted out of my chest and as I treaded water floating downstream I struggled to take in air.  As I walked out of the freezing cold water, I was numb but still smiling.  My friend also took the plunge and we shivered and giggled about the crazy and somewhat dangerous things we do when we're together.  We sunbathed on the rock for an hour, drying off in the sunlight and then headed out.

We didn't get far.  The name "Cheese Rock" was enough to detour us up the road further.  After a steep climb half a mile up large slabs of granite, we were rewarded with a 360 view of the Teanaway that, like the glacial waters, took my breath away.

Invigorated by the cold swim and the thigh-burning climb, I couldn't help but feel stoked for summer.  The days are getting warmer and brighter and adventure seems to be busting forth from every corner of the world.  "The Mountains are Calling, and I Must Go."  These words have been spoken and like a call to prayer, we are drawn into nature's church to seek the wisdom of the wilderness.  Summer is here.  Go forth and find adventure.  Appreciate the beauty and covet the time with those who appreciate it with you.