Volunteering with WTA helped me explore new places and make new friends

After my husband died, our hiking, camping, kayaking and biking gear gathered dust — I was afraid to go into the woods alone. I had lost laughter and joy, outside of my family and a few friends. My kids were grown and busier than me.

The two of us had said that we would find some kind of volunteer vacation when we retired — but he died a couple years before I retired. It took me 5 years to get brave enough to find such a thing. 

• 
  backcountry trip registration opens Feb. 24
• Join us for a variety of volunteer backcountry experience state wide — from intro trips to strenuous weeklong excursions.
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  See all of our work parties at wta.org/volunteer

In 2018, after perusing the internet for a spark, I found a wait list for a volunteer vacation with something called WTA. Two days before the week at Cape Disappointment, I opened an email invitation and could hardly believe I said yes. Staying in the lighthouse keeper’s quarters sounded perfect, but staying for a week was intimidating. My resolve wavered when I pulled up and saw no one. Then I heard my name loud and clear. My roommate, a veteran WTA volunteer, had been watching for me, and I never thought about leaving early again. 

I was the only new person on that trip, so an assistant crew leader spent the day teaching me about WTA tools. I’ve since built rock walls, stairs, turnpikes, bridges, water bars and zip lines. I’ve cleared logs with a crosscut saw, created new trails and used a power brusher. I’ve relocated hundreds of ferns, logs and branches to create magical spaces. 

On the first night of my first backcountry response team at Bench Lake, I was sure I had made a mistake. It was hot, steep and I barely made it back to camp. But I was with friends. I told my respected crew leader how I felt. He said I was being too hard on myself and told me to hang out by the lake the next day.

That interaction changed my perspective for good. I had tried to be the best teacher, best mom and best partner for years and considered myself successful. So shouldn’t I be the best volunteer? Now, when I find myself worrying about not being perfect, I think back to camping under those trees next to a beautiful lake and I remember the relief that I could be at this work party, just the way I was. (And I did make it back out to work on the trail.)

Kathy proudly sports her WTA vest on trail, which is earned after 25+ work parties. Photo by Rod Hooker

I’ve learned a lot with WTA, but underneath it all, I was learning to not be afraid to speak up, to ask questions, to be part of a team and to know my own limits. 

Through WTA, I met women my age doing all these things by themselves and realized that I can, too. I’ve made friends I’ve laughed so hard with, my sides have hurt. They bring flowers, soup and scones and jump my car battery. They listen and they share. Even though I no longer sleep outside in my backyard like we used to, when I’m awakened by the sound of snores from tents nearby at a backcountry response team camp, I feel safe going out to look up at the stars. In the quiet dark, I give thanks for WTA. It has provided me with unlimited opportunities to be on trails I wouldn’t visit alone, to develop treasured friendships and to contribute to the grandeur of our forests.

I read something recently about belonging versus fitting in. You change yourself to fit in, but you belong when you can just be who you are. I feel like I belong at WTA.

As of the date of this article, Kathy has now volunteered more than 146 days on trail with WTA and is an assistant crew leader. She hopes her story gives even one person the courage to reach out after a loss.