My Blog

Kathy Kovalicky Remembered

Tue, 26 Apr 2011 16:21:07 -0700

Every time I hear “Don’t Stop (Thinking About Tomorrow)” by Fleetwood Mac, I think of Kathy Kovalicky. Kathy was a fellow counselor at Skinner Brothers in the early 80s. She was smart, tough, pretty and always ready to laugh. I picked her up from town at the start of summer one year and “Don’t Stop” blared on the AM radio of the old green Ford pickup all the way up the short way (the rougher road to camp).

For some reason, I thought the words in the refrain were “Don’t you look bad” and she laughed at me. “Don’t you look back,” she corrected. And like an idiot, I refused to believe her and kept singing it the wrong way. She laughed at me some more.

On the climbing trips, the riding trips, the survival hikes and overnighters, Kathy always held her own with everybody. I never saw her down. She was good with the kids. A top notch counselor. And I think I can speak for many of the boys at Skinners when I say that I had a small crush on her. Don’t tell the wranger (and now fabulous artist) Dave Klarene though. He dated her at the camp.

But somewhere, under that exterior, Kathy must have been struggling. She left Skinner Brothers early one summer, never to return. And the next year we heard that she had taken her life.

I don’t know what troubled Kathy. And it is likely that I never will. But I have never forgotten her. And I only wish that her infectious smile and easy humor could have warmed her as much as it warmed all of us at Skinner Brothers.

I remember you Kathy. You are not forgotten.

Good On TOP

Thu, 2 Sep 2010 12:53:26 -0700

There were a number of great horses at Skinner Brothers, and a lot of agonizing, but memorable ones too. And there were a lot of brilliant names. There were George, Sidecar, Dick, Midnight, Twinkle Toes, and Whiskey River, to name a few. In my day, I could walk through the whole corral and name every horse and describe their unique temperaments.

For example, Mom (not the original, who died on an Open Session, but the newer replacement) was an Appaloosa who rode okay but had a miserably lazy lead-rope disposition as a packhorse. She’d pull your arm off on the trail. Ack, an Arabian, was a good packhorse, but damn if she didn’t lead the whole herd out of the mountains if you put her out at night to feed.

We all had favorites. Horses that meant more to us than simply transportation. We’d sneak carrots to them and talk stupidly in their ear when nobody was looking. My favorite was Good On Top, shown to the right. He was a quarter horse that, according to Bob Skinner, had been beat senseless by his previous, always-drunk owner. And he acted like it, shying violently at any movement you made when you were standing near him. But when you were riding him, he was a wonder of responsiveness and solidity.

I recall one ride down Black’s Mountain when a small tree literally fell on top of me and him. That horse that would buck away from a mouse fart if nobody was on him, but this time, when I was ‘on top’, he didn’t move a muscle and I was able to shed the tree and keep riding without incident. So he was, indeed, Good On Top.

Others at Skinner Brothers had their own favorites. Monte, of course, always had Jake the Mule as his mount (and Jenny the Mule as his pack). I believe that Kevin Warren was partial to Too Tall. Tommy Johnson had his own horse, Traveller. Fred Reidman rode George. Dorothy Van Gerbig was committed to Bold Forbes.

Johnny, a giant of Belgian descent, was a favorite for many of us (see picture above). Especially for packing. He was gentle as a dog (and a gentle dog, at that) and strong as a...well...horse. He never pulled the lead rope, and he didn’t run when put out for the night.

These horses became our friends and cherished companions during our time at Skinners. And they are not forgotten as the years go by. Tell me, who was your favorite horse?

Leavell Lake

Mon, 4 Jan 2010 16:37:41 -0800

Giant glaciers carved uncountable nooks and crannies into the granite of the Wind River plateau. The result is a large number of alpine lakes. Its a amazing country. And one of my favorite nooks is a little place called Leavell Lake (thanks to Judi Meyers for teaching me the correct spelling).

Leavell Lake lies above Horseshoe Lake. Horseshoe was the place the Skinner’s used as their high camp for decades. But Leavell was off the beaten path (in fact, it was kind of tricky to get to in a rainstorm as I have learned).

Leavell was used during the Skinner’s Leadership sessions to teach alpine camping. In the picture above, you can were where the tents often set up, and also the ‘big rock’ that was used for group meetings. At the very top of the rock was also the only place that radio handsets could reach the outside world. “Leadership to Bonneville? Leadership to Bonneville? Do you read, over?”

The thing that I loved about Leavell most was the feeling of protected isolation. The lake was nestled into its little valley, it was protected from the wind, offered great trout fishing, had great meadows for grazing horses, and was simply great for swimming.

The lake itself was a high country swim miracle–it had a five-foot layer of sun-warmed water at the top that was a joy to swim in. Below five feet down, however, and it was freezing cold. As you can see by the pictures on the right, there were cliffs at the water’s edge that you could use to jump into the lake. This was always a hit with the campers.

Though it was never as bad in my subsequent trips, I recall clearly that in 1979 on my Leadership Session the mosquitos were absolutely atrocious. Orion and Steve Macintosh had to wrap our pack horses with blankets because the mosquitos were literally covering them, dozens to a square inch.

The cliffs near the lake served as the more advanced rock climbing area for both the Leadership and Open Sessions (Meadow Lake being the Wilderness Session climbing spot). I believe the pitch that is pictured to the right is a tricky little number called ‘Fingernail’, named after the only, ultra-thin handhold in the middle of the climb.

A mile away from Leavell was the ‘Big Meadow’, an amazing alpine meadow that was always a great place for spotting Elk. But even though a main trail ran through that meadow, I’m willing to bet that almost nobody besides the Skinners went off the path to visit Leavell Lake.

Horses, rafting, climbing, Oh My!

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 13:05:42 -0700

I never attended Space Camp. Or Math Camp. Or Tennis Camp. But I imagine that those programs offer their students great focus and depth of experience in...we...space, math or tennis. As I mentioned in a previous post, I did find myself at Band Camp one year. And Band was about all we did there, much to my chagrin.

Skinner Brothers was not specialized. It offered a little of everything. Wilderness Session Campers would first learn rustic work skills (digging, woodcutting, animal feeding, camp maintenance, etc.) Then they would learn basic survival skills (alaskan backpack, shelters, edible plants, hunting & fishing, orienteering, first aid). They would learn horse skills (saddling, riding, packing, caring & feeding). Then came climbing (equipment, belaying, climbing technique repelling). Then rafting (construction, steering, rapids, personal safety & coverup). Across these activities, they would learn camping, food preparation, sanitation, etc.

The later sessions would allow campers to focus and specialize more. For example, the Open Session offered a month of climbing. But even there, it was a diverse set of experiences including rock climbing, alpine mountaineering and high-country travel. But that Wilderness Session offered an amazing spectrum of skills. And this session was the bread and butter of the camp.

From my perspective, there was more information and learning in those sessions than in any semester of college or graduate school I ever attended. The diversity of this curriculum had an impact beyond the initially learned skills. It broadened the campers in ways that I’m not sure anyone can properly articulate. But you could see it clearly, at the end of their month at Burn Lake. It was an experience. One that lasted far beyond the 30-days. Skinners graduates continue to acknowledge this impact, decades afterward.

Its safe to say that any Skinners graduate would find themselves much more comfortable when confronted with any situation, leaning on the background knowledge they gained. It was a liberal arts degree in outdoor living. And a masters in ‘Jack of all trades’.

Tom Sutton On the survival hike

Tue, 1 Sep 2009 14:17:09 -0700

Of the many people that passed through Skinner Brothers during the years I worked there, one person sticks out in my memories for both his horrible luck and his tremendous enthusiasm for life.

Tom Sutton was, I believe, from Pennsylvania. He was an avid motorcycle racer and outdoor enthusiast. He also suffered from some type of heart defect which often gave his lips a blue tinge. I don’t remember how serious it was, but I have the feeling that it was life threatening. He never complained about it, but that was the first piece of bad luck I recall about Tom.

Tom would often regale us with his tales as a racer. The second bad-luck story I recall from Tom was that he had jumped his bike and hit a branch, spearing himself right through the shoulder. He had to have the branch removed surgically. He showed us the large scar with great relish.

On the way up the trail to the Survival Hike Area during that year’s first Wilderness Session, a camper spotted a large water snake near the trail. Tom grabbed the snake, and in a bid to impress campers with his toughness, raised the snake toward his mouth as if to eat it raw and alive. Unfortunately for Unlucky Tom, the snake then proceeded to piss into his mouth.

While he was certainly grossed out, Tom managed to laugh and show as much dignity is possible in such a circumstance. As Tom rushed to Fall Creek to clean out his mouth the rest of us roared with laughter. The snake managed to escape.

Tom, Wendy Walters, and I (and perhaps Dan McCown too, but I’m not sure) shared the ‘Hilton’ shelter in the survival area. The industrious Tom found an old .22 cartridge while digging in the dirt under that amazingly well-built lean-to (since destroyed in the great fire of 1988). The cartridge looked about 200 years old. Tom immediately went hunting with the campers and this newfound ammo. As he took aim and fire at a squirrel the cartridge didn’t so much shoot as explode.. The shell recoiled out of the gun and hit Tom squarely between the eyes, leaving a big cut and bruise. Tom rubbed his head and grinned heartily. He didn’t get the squirrel.

Later in the survival hike, Tom was wading through the Beaver Ponds in the upper Survival Area, assisting a camper in retrieving I lure. As he talked chattily to us while wading, Tom suddenly disappeared. He had stepped into a 10-foot-deep Beaver hole. Tom appeared again sputtering and coughing, thoroughly soaked, but somehow still grinning. I can’t remember if he retrieved the lure.

As with his heart condition and his motorbike injuries, Tom accepted all of these hilarious indignities with aw-shucks humor and undiminished enthusiasm. He never once showed anything but the greatest joy for life, regardless of the unlucky circumstances.

I don’t know where Tom Sutton is today, but I assure you that decades later his amazing ability to laugh at adversity impresses me to this day. His luck, on the other hand, was not enviable at all.

1978 Was a good year

Fri, 21 Aug 2009 09:55:36 -0700

Recently, my parents gave me a big box of old slide photographs. Thanks to the wonders of modern film scanning (and cheap offshore labor) I had these slides scanned.

Lo and behold, I found a treasure trove of old Skinner Brothers photos, dating way back to 1978––my Leadership session. The picture above is a shot of me climbing at Loevell Lake. I was never much of a rock climber, so I imagine that right after this shot, I proceed to 1) fall down the face of the rock 2) get ‘gerked’ by the damnable gold coil rope and 3) cry like a baby.

My counselors in those formative years were Carol McKinley (shown at right with some type of arm injury), a young and haired Orion Skinner (nice hat) and Steve Mackintosh (hanging partially obscured from a Rappel during a shakedown to Meadow Lake).

I was thirteen at this time, and came out to Wyoming with my brother Grant and our friend from Michigan, Scott Eaton. We were lucky to come at a time when Monte had the wanderlust. Our Leadership packtrip started way south in Big Sandy and worked its way north through Northfork country and Europe Canyon. Amazing country!

I do recall too that Orion, after becoming annoyed with our group’s laziness, decided to call an Over Nighter in the big meadow above Loevell Lake. We all worked diligently to find places to sleep in the Marmot crap under the large boulders in a Big Meadow scree field. Then Orion called it off. I imagine because he was either terrified that we’d be crushed to death or because he realized that we were irredeemably lazy.

It was a high water year in 1978, as I recall. Great for river rafting. But the mosquitos were so thick at Loevell that Orion and Steve had to cover the horses with tarps to keep them from losing too much blood. The fishing, however, was very good because of the bugs.

The next year, I did not come to Skinners. Regrettably, I went to band camp instead. But I pined for Burnt Lake that whole summer, while playing my marching drum, and the next year, I called Monte and asked if he’d hire me as a Junior Counselor. I was a long time before I missed another summer in the Winds.

A Note from scott Roberson

Thu, 2 Apr 2009 21:15:47 -0700

Sorry I haven’t been blogging. Two young kids means not enough time for dad’s other projects! I’ll try to get back on this site more often.

In case you don’t read the comments section, I received this note from former camper and counselor Scott Roberson, who I do indeed remember fondly. I’m glad he is well and still fishing.

Hey everybody, this is Scott Roberson. I attended wilderness session in 1981, the leadership session in 1982, the open session in 1983, and came back to burnt lake to be a counselor in 1984. Like everyone else, I'm sure, Skinner Brothers changed my life. I was very sad to hear of Todd's passing. Although Todd didn't spend as much time with us as the others, I consider him one of my heros. One of my fondest memories of Todd is on one pack trip, we were decending through the aspens on one of those glorious summer days and were talking of riding horses and Todd said "traildust is thicker than blood". That thought has guided me throughout my life, remembering another of the Skinner's old adages- there are no strangers in the wilderness, only friends you haven't met.
    I fondly remember Courtney's wit and wisdom, as well as his ability to eat lunch with a dip of copenhagen in his lip. Courtney had that great voice and infectious laugh. I was just telling my fiance' the other day about Courtney's "Morning has Broken" singing on those cold mornings.
   I was extremely sad to hear of Bob's passing. One summer, I was in charge of starting the fire in the mornings, and no matter how early I rose, Bob had already made coffee and was sitting on the dock waiting for the sun to rise. I would join him on occasion, mostly in silence, but one morning he told me tales of his climbing and skiing life and talked so proudly of Todd.
   I am glad to hear Monte and Ole are doing well. I will never forget the way Monte threw me to the deck of a raft one day to teach me to look out for my fellow raftmates, and of course his way with horses. Ole taught me more about my swiss army knife than any body could ever know.
   I don't know if Garrett remembers me, but I went to Duke to visit him one weekend, and no, I didn't get accepted.
   all of us who were fortunate enough to have been a part of Skinner Brothers will certainly carry lessons and anecdotes through life. I could not have had a better or more educational four summers.

Riding with the Boss

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 09:28:31 -0700

I took a brief trip to Pinedale last week and had a chance to spend some time with Monte and his wife. Not only did I manage to interview Monte on camera about the long history of Skinner Brothers, but we even got motivated enough to load up the horses and head up to Burnt Lake for a ride.

I also had breakfast with Courtney and his wife, Maria. The food was gourmet, their dogs were troublesom, and the views from ‘Windy Hill’ were spectacular. Courtney showed me some amazing petrified trees that he found while riding the ‘Jonah’ formation outside of Pinedale.

Finally, we had dinner with longtime Skinner luminary Greg Legerski. For those of you who remember him as a bearded, bear-hat wearing mountain man, his button-down image as the Principle of Pinedale’s Elementary School would be startling. But the guy is at home in any environment. Pinedale is lucky to have him.

Despite the natural gas development and growth, Pinedale and the ‘Winds’ are still characterized by wide open spaces.

You can check out some of the photos from my trip here.

An email from a former camper

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 15:28:02 -0700

Skinner Brothers still holds strong memories for those who attended. I have not advertised this site at all, yet I’ve already recieved two emails from past campers who still remember ‘fondly’ their seminal experiences at Burnt Lake. The email below is from Michael Walker, who comments in his own words...

In Jun 8, 2008, at 6:19 AM, Michael Walker wrote:

Hey,

I went to Skinner Bros, I think in 1979. It was a life-changing experience without question, in a lot of ways. I was put in a teepee with some other kids and we all had nicknames. Mine was Vegetable because I was a vegetarian. I got no end of crap about that from the Skinners. I don't remember all the others but there was kid named Righteous who was always getting in trouble. On the horse trip, he got tied behind the horse and made to walk. I remember the survival school, that week of being put out in the woods without food. I still tell people about it. Everybody got sick because the rations we took from camp were rotten, then we ate garter snake soup. I remember that plane ride there, and the green river trots. I remember chewing tobacco, got by the counsellors. I never heard from anybody at the camp after. Anyway, I was just seeing if it was still around - hard to believe it would be run the same way in this day and age, even in Wyoming - and I came across your site.

All the best,

Mike

The queen of the green

Thu, 29 May 2008 16:48:53 -0700

This article on how Monte helped preserve one of the rafts from the Skinner’s Green River rafting adventures is great. The rafting on the Green was one of the most amazing parts of Skinner Brothers. Not only did they build giant rafts build from huge lodgepole pine logs (always dead, because they were drier), but they took these one-ton beasts through the rapids for decades without squishing any campers.