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Success outdoors measured in mindful immersion

As Michael Kinney and his girlfriend, Missy, bedded down after a storm two nights before the final leg of their epic 24-day, 228-mile kayaking/canoeing West Branch Adventure, they shared a unique experience.

"We slept in a mass hoard of hellgrammites. They were everywhere, crawling on us, our gear, even under the tent and I could them through my air pillow all night," he said. "We had to keep watching our legs while we cooked and ate. (They were) just everywhere."

While most people would squirm at even the thought of those sleeping arrangements, Kinney referred to the experience simply as: "Cool! ... I am hoping they are back out again the next night so I can get photos and video of the large number of them."

Michael's adventure was most definitely all-immersive. He lived, breathed and engaged the aquatic ecosystem in ways very few people get to. It rained at least 14 days of the trip, and each of those days, Kinney was soaked to a point where he took a day off the river to dry out his gear and feet before bigger issues could take root. He interacted with eagles and fish and turtles and captured footage of all of that and more that will help engage more people to our natural resources.

I had the pleasure of finally joining Michael for part of his final day of paddling, heading from Fort Boone Campsite above Milton to The Fence restaurant below Lewisburg. This stretch of river is lined on both sides by busy roadways ... Route 15 carried a corridor of traffic on the Union County side while Route 405 did the same on the Northumberland County banks of the river.

So many people rushing from one event or meeting or appointment to the next, seemingly oblivious of this massive body of water slowly and constantly flowing down through the region. In their busyness, they were missing such a cool experience ... something we all take for granted sometimes even while paddling. It requires an intentional unplugging - my cell phone only came out for a few photos - and childlike curiosity/excitement/observation of the cool things in the environment around us.

Numerous years ago, a friend and I participated in a half-day rabbit hunt. We walked game lands and other properties he knew well, so I let him set the pace.

At the end of the trip, he excitedly shared that we covered 12 miles that morning. However, we only saw one rabbit. I went back another time by myself and walked the areas slowly, stopping often as my dad had taught me. In just a mile or two, I saw at least a dozen cottontails.

Truly engaging our natural resources requires us to not only get out on a hike or kayaking trip, but to intentionally slow it down and immerse ourselves into the environment we are exploring. That is when the true magic begins - when we develop a much deeper appreciation for these resources.

When I was a teenager, my dad took my brother and I deer hunting every fall. I began that period in my life as someone who looked at nature as something to conquer and subdue.

But we struggled to get into deer the first couple years of hunting, and I found myself growing bored with the process until one day while sitting on the side of a mountain as the sun peaked over the horizon and everything came to life around me that it all clicked. Deer hunting no longer revolved around deer or hunting, but instead soaking in the sights of the woods that everyone misses unless you sit still and let nature come alive around you.

I noticed the pileated woodpeckers swooping from tree to tree, witnessed a bobcat sitting along a path for almost an hour watching for its next meal, encountered a coyote that almost come right up to me (while my son was using my rifle a short distance away).

My daughter, Paige, quickly gained a deeper appreciation for these resources when she started coming on these trips. Together, we watched three playful bear cubs using the forest floor as a playground while their mother watched carefully nearby. We enjoyed numerous other nature-related moments that since have become key bonding memories for us both.

This is one reason why the PA Master Naturalists encourage the practice of nature journaling ... to sit still in a nook of nature and sketch what you see over a period of time. To take notes of observations that help improve your ability to notice the details around you.

Not every encounter with nature is positive - I have trail camera footage of a great horned owl slaughtering chickens in our backyard - but each of them can help us better understand and appreciate the natural world if we choose to look at it with the right ratios of curiosity, awe and excitement.

In the coming weeks and months, I plan to share a number of these natural encounters I had in the past ... some of them captured in columns I shared while working at a local newspaper. My goal is to encourage others to share their cool moments of engagement with nature, as well. That in sharing all our stories, we inspire others to not only get outdoors, but to slow down and mindfully connect.

In the meantime, I urge everyone to go into nature and stop. Sit still for an hour a week and observe the environment around you, especially as it comes to life after you no longer seem to pose a threat.

Many people measure "success" in the number of fish caught or miles hiked, but there is a certain maturing process in understanding that a good day in the woods can come from sitting still, observing and mindfully making the smallest ecological impact possible - even if we find ourselves in a bed of hellgrammites.

In other words, ​true environmental enlightenment comes from realizing a successful day outdoors isn't about conquering nature - but allowing nature to conquer us.