Our WEMT class has finally graduated. After four long weeks of training, battling the snow and studying hard, these individuals are ready to leave SOLO and experience the EMS world. Congratulations!

We have all had the common experience of sitting in a classroom, sitting with our attention focused on our teacher.   But, how much time have you spent really considering that teacher’s process and progress?  What are our expectations of this person?  As I maneuver the exciting challenges of relocating to a different part of the country and mastering the curriculum of wilderness medicine, I will share what is behind the facade of being SOLO’s newest home course instructor.

I am a recent graduate of the University of Alabama as a marketing major. (Not your typical major for someone moving on to the world of wilderness medicine, but here I am, combining the two subjects to create meaningful work.)  While studying at U of A, I worked for their reputable Outdoor Recreation program where I was a guide for backpacking, canoeing, kayaking, skiing, biking and rock climbing trips along with co-directing our annual Adventure Race (canoe, run, and bike). It was during this tenure that I took my first wilderness first responder certification course and became interested in going into this field. I gained so much experience and I knew that I wanted to further my knowledge by working in the outdoor industry when I graduated.

SOLO was the perfect opportunity and at the same time a new world that opened my eyes.  I was quick to join forces with the local search and rescue groups and ski patrol here in the White Mountains, which has allowed me to further apply my practical knowledge and experiences.   It takes an amazing amount of confidence to step in front of a classroom and deliver a lecture, and it is my experiences which I draw upon that allows me the self assurance.  At first, it felt extremely overwhelming with the vast amount of information, to become a well-informed instructor. There is no “always” or “never” when it comes to medicine and that world is very different from the business world. I was constantly told, “The information will come in time, it is personality that we can’t teach”.  It did not come effortlessly overnight and I still work on my presentation skills and continue look over my information before class, but I can say that I am finally coming into my skin.

Today, I stand in front of my classes with an energetic enthusiasm and passion for teaching wilderness medicine. Now as you sit there listening to the massive quantity of information running out of my mouth, I am also multitasking. I am continuously asking questions to myself (How can I clarify this point? How much time am I going to spend on this lecture? What are we going to do next?). My internal schedule changes all the time. And after class I am planning out the next day, looking over my lesson plans, planning mentally for how I am going to deliver each lesson, and looking up information. I didn’t realize the many responsibilities that came with being an instructor besides just standing in front of the class and delivering lectures. These include: constant prep work, customer service responsibilities , social responsibilities, being a full-time resource, traveling all hours through the middle of nowhere…just to name a few.

There is much more to instructing than you see on the outside. For some individuals it is not in the cards, but for those who like the crazy, hectic lifestyle that brings students from various backgrounds together to have an amazing time, it is more than enough to keep me enjoying what I do.

-Courtney Lewallen

SOLO has recently created a Facebook fan page. The purpose of the page is to allow previous students and staff to connect with each other. We will be posting the latest information on courses, events/news going on in the wilderness medical world, videos and pictures. Students will be able to share experiences with others, comment on courses, and interested candidates  will stay informed. Please click on the link below to become a fan of SOLOs.

If you have not looked at the SOLO website recently, then you are in for a surprise. The new website is much easier to navigate with more easily available information for new students, returning students and sponsors. Check it out at www.soloschools.com

The 2007 January/February issue of the Wilderness Medicine Newsletter marks the start of the twentieth year of publication for remarkable online journal.
What started as a single color, six-page printed newsletter has been transformed over the last two decades into a respected online journal with an international following. With the mission of providing up-to-date information on Travel Medicine as well as Wilderness Medicine and Disaster Medicine, the decision to switch to an online format was made in 2003 in the interest of global accessibility. The digital format has also allowed us to keep subscription price affordable for all practitioners of pre-hospital medicine.

Click here for the Wilderness Medicine Newsletter

Most recently the WMN has developed a new interactive blog site which is allowing access to more readers than ever before.

Click here for the WMN Blog

Ending a Wilderness First Responder class is often an emotional sort of time. When you spend 8-10 days discussing life and death issues along with some of your favorite activities, it can be a pretty intense experience. Not every class bonds, but often they do.

This last course I did down at the Yulee, Florida Outward Bound STEP base was an unusual one. We only had nine people in the class, so it was small, and many were coming in off of a couple weeks of intensive training for dealing with their future clients and learning to cope with all the unexpected issues that come up in the out-of-doors. Everyone had traveled, and we were all short of focus when we started.

But everyone worked at it.  After the first couple days and one or two nights of solid sleep, suddenly we were in the midst of the class, with some solid patient assessment skills, splinting methods, and lots of good discussion going on.We also had some unique visitors to this class . . . Buddy, the wayfaring puppy who had just decided to make the base his new home, galumped over to the class during every scenario and tried to snuggle up to all the patients . . . .  Some maneuvering was needed to avoid  potential patient trampling . . . He was a sweet little dog, though . . .After we’d adventured our way through spinal clearing, chest trauma, drawing abdominal organ charts, environmental issues, and dissecting the potential threats of lightning near and on the ocean, we arrived at our mock scenario day.

The practice went well, though a bit muckily, as the group organized themselves to extract a “semi-conscious patient” from the salt-marsh. After a lot of cleaning and a good night’s rest . . . it was time for the full-fledged mock rescue.

With a report of two “missing hikers,” the class took their improvised litter and set off on a search down the base trails. Following the likely path down towards the edge of the woods, they found the patients, one “struck” by a downed tree and another who’d broken his arm trying to get to his buddy in time. With some careful patient movement and splinting, both patients were soon tucked up on ensolite pads warmly blanketed.  Within an hour they were transported back to a warm, safe spot.

Justly proud of their organization and accomplishment, the class sailed through the next two days of medical conditions, causes of altered levels of consciousness, and splinting sessions in preparation for the final exams . . . not to mention the ongoing ping-pong tournament and some lovely morning sunrises over the ocean.

The funniest moment of the course was “Rescue Dog”.  Tessa, a little black bundle of energy, was visiting.  Just as the rescuers moved out to help the patients, she snatched one of the tarps in her jaws and bounded through the middle of the scene, looking for all the world like a little “Mighty Dog to the Rescue” . . . .  Then she dropped the tarp and started snuffling each of the patients (who were supposed to be allergic to dogs!)

Patricia Matte
SOLO Instructor

The last four or five months have been very eventful for us on the SOLO campus.
             The long anticipated new addition to the Main Building was completed this fall. The addition provides needed storage space and houses a new 10,000 gallon water tank downstairs.  Upstairs  a new classroom has replaced the deck. The classroom has already been put to use in the last two EMT classes and is looking like it is going to be a popular spot to study as well as hold classes.
             Additional upgrades to the Main Building include the replacement of the old fire escape on the West side of the building and the replacement of the old furnace with one that is more efficient, and hopefully more reliable. While work was underway on the Main Building, we took time to replace the old fire ladder on the office building with a proper staircase, and put up new siding on the East side. 

            With the changeover of the National Registry test from written to computer-based, we went to wi-fi so that students could use their laptops or the student computer for their practice tests.  

   In preparation for winter, which has finally arrived, the road sander for the plow truck was upgraded and a new sand shed to hold our winter supply of road sand was built down in the student parking lot. Now if we could just keep that darn cat from using it as his personal litter box….

Paul Richardson
High Angle Rescue Instructor
Head of Campus Development

Name: Mascot
Position: SOLO Head Cat

My job at SOLO is, basically, rodent control. I work out of the shop at Toad Hall and cover the grounds around the dorm and boathouse. I get up to the main campus from time to time, but it is a long way and,  really, too much to expect one cat to cover.
        I catch mice, chipmunks, and squirrels, and either eat them or collect the protection money. There is a person from SOLO who checks on me every day and fills my food and water bowls in the shop. I forget what his name is– people all look the same to me anyhow. I have two imaginary friends, Bob, and Silas; but they don’t really like me. On the other hand, the people here really do like me– you should see the brand new litter-box they just built me!  It’s huge.  It seems like it’s  really a building all by itself down in the student parking lot filled with sand.  I wish they wouldn’t keep taking away my sand whenever it snows.  As head cat, I deserve a little respect.