Nick Hardigg - 11/08/09
Looking back, I consider my adult life to have started with the decision to attend Outward Bound. At age 15, coming from a small town in New Hampshire, this was something no one I knew had ever done. I had previously been swept up in whatever was happening at the time, making little effort to branch out and assert who I was or wanted to become. Growing up is never easy; my home life was less than stable, and I’d made some poor choices or allowed them to be made for me.
But then a rare opportunity appeared. Two weeks of hiking in Maine, with people I’d never met before.
The most harrowing of many, memorable events was an afternoon crossing Bald Peak, when the haze and heat of a sunny July day hung heavy on us all. Suddenly one of the fiercest thunderstorms I’d ever experienced was quickly upon us. We separated-- following emergency procedures-- and hunkered down during the storm, amidst hail and lightning strikes, cold, wet, and very scared. And that frightening, fatigued, humbling experience bonded us all, tightly, like I never had before in my life. And through the remaining rainstorms, mosquitoes, and other trials, we struggled, supported, and persevered together.
At the expedition’s end, my trip leaders had a surprise for me. They shared privately that they felt I had been a leader during our trip; that I was trusted, and some looked up to me. I was shocked; I'd never considered that potential before. Little was exemplary about my past. And while I wasn’t immediately convinced of what they'd shared, they had started a glimmer of hope that I, in my odd individuality, might be okay following my own course, standing up for what I believed in.
Now in my forties, that glimmer remains. I have led an unusual life path; travelled the world over, a few times, explored careers as an artist, running a small business, then going to business school, and now running an environmental conservation foundation in Alaska. Our team of ten works hard to protect Alaska's future. We still have our share of thunderstorms with little shelter, depending upon one another. I realize this is the role I was meant to play, pushing boundaries, building a team, seeking solutions to problems and trying to help the world be a better place. I owe a lot to Outward Bound—not for showing me the way, but giving me confidence that I could find a way, myself. You can count upon life being full of the unexpected. There’s rarely a clear path. But just having the confidence that you can and will find a way—that the storm will pass—is a lesson that I keep on hand for those unpredictable, difficult times.
Thank you, Outward Bound.
