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Author: Christian La Mont

Yo Cuento: Then & Now

por Laura Flores

Climbing My Own Mountains

The Start of Something

I remember one night watching a team of men climb a snow capped mountain. As grueling as it looked, it ignited something inside me, and with excitement and hope, I told my dad I would do that one day. His response was less than desirable, “You can’t do things like that plus how would you get there?” Doubt masked with sarcasm is something I grew up with but it didn’t stop me from dreaming.

My family and others in my community have historically been told what we can and cannot do because of the color of our skin, the language we speak, our socio-economic status, where we live, and where we have come from. Opportunities to connect to nature have been vital in rebuilding self-confidence, self-reliance, mental and physical well-being, and pushing myself to know what I am capable of and, in turn, what my community is capable of.

Wild Curly Haired Kid

I was the wild curly hair kid who only looked forward to waking up and climbing my tree, playing in the mud, and riding my bike until the street lights came on. When your option was either to stay inside and clean or go outside and play, the decision felt like a no brainer. When I wasn’t outside imagining being in a jungle or on a tall mountain I was watching explorers on Nova with my dad. 

I grew up in New Mexico and Southern California, surrounded by mountains, rivers, the ocean and rich culture. Southern California tended to lend itself to warm summer days where we would visit my abuelos house. When we entered the gate my nose was immediately filled with the fragrant sweet smell of pink and red roses in the front yard and we were welcomed by fresh avocados, lemons, and oranges in the backyard. My grandfather worked as a lechero, a milker, on a cow farm. He loved agriculture and shared his passion with his children and grandchildren. 

“I loved playing in the dirt, making mud pies, and gardening with my dad. It was always amazing to witness a tiny seed grow and be cooked by my mom into a delicious meal.”

Moving from California–which is gorgeous but often overcast from smog–to New Mexico, a wide open space with clear beautiful mountains and bright stars, was a game changer. We even moved into a house with a backyard. I loved playing in the dirt, making mud pies, and gardening with my dad. It was always amazing to witness a tiny seed grow and be cooked by my mom into a delicious meal. My favorite was calabacitas with onion, tomato, and a little bit of cheese sprinkled on top. More precious than the food, was the time we spent gardening. 

Time in the garden almost softened my dad and allowed him to speak freely about his complicated past. In doing so, he’d try to educate me about the hate in this world. Like many other Chicanos of his generation, he was punished for speaking Spanish throughout his education. He would often talk about his family and growing up. Despite not having much, my abuelo would still make time to take him and his siblings outdoors. My dad knew this tradition needed to continue, and for that, I will always be thankful. Sometimes we would be in the garden so long the stars would come out. 

 When we went camping, it wasn’t fancy. Our gear mostly consisted of the pots and pans we had in the kitchen and the comforters straight from our beds. I would spend hours exploring and chasing after the lizards and toads scampering around the desert floor. When it was time to hike, we put on our chanclas or tennis shoes from Kmart; they got us there just fine. 

I was very fortunate to grow up in a state that lends itself to the outdoors, but I only became aware of this when I was much older. As time passed, our camping trips became less frequent. I remember people saying there was never anything to do in our state. Suggestions of what to do would vary but were rarely positive. We were surrounded by nature and beauty but were only aware of the glimpses our parents showed us growing up. It was easy to be sucked into negative feelings about where we lived, and oftentimes, it led to negative choices like doing drugs or drinking to entertain ourselves. 

One summer, I recall my sister got into a little bit of trouble and was put in a detention center. She was one of the “lucky” youth to be given a rehabilitation rafting trip. Although I agree the outdoors is therapeutic and can change mindsets, I had to ask, why did she have to get in trouble to be introduced to such an amazing outdoor experience? Why were activities like this only reserved for people who could afford them unless court ordered? Her experience initially built a sense of anger and disgust, which then turned into passion. I knew I needed to be more involved in reshaping the outdoors for my community. 

The LO Life

One day, scrolling through IG posts, I saw our wedding photographers’ repost of Latino Outdoors (thanks, Ashley)! I was immediately interested. In 2019, LO did not have a program coordinator in the region, and the wonderful Ruby, LO’s Director of Programs and Operations, asked if I would be interested. Honestly, it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. 

Since volunteering for LO, I have been extended incredible opportunities like becoming an Environmental Education of New Mexico Fellow, trusted to assist with Outdoor FUTURE Initiative, sitting on the board for Mana de Albuquerque, traveling and meeting other dedicated volunteers from across the country, being Wilderness First Aid trained, and most importantly, hosting purposeful outings for our New Mexico youth. As a bonus, I got to try many outdoor activities for the first time. There were times I was nervous because I did not know everything (who does), but these experiences have helped me slow down, respect the learning process, and reframe my appreciation for the outdoors.

Full Circle

This past year in October 2022, I was asked to hike with a group of indigenous women to Sagarmatha, Mt Everest Base Camp . My son was only one at the time and my daughter was three. I had not been “keeping” up with my cardio for a trip like this. 

I had every excuse in the book not to go, but my husband, who always has my back, said, “when will you ever get an opportunity like this again? Go, I will watch the kids. They will be fine. You have to do this!”  

Childhood memories flooded my brain, watching those men climb mountain peaks and now knowing I could be doing the same. So I went.

Initially, this trip meant being able to prove to myself that I could do it, but it turned into so much more. Letters from family and friends expressed how much this trip meant to them. I would be the first person in their circle to hike Everest Base Camp! For some, I would be the first person to travel that far or even fly in a plane. Was it scary or hard to leave my family? The short answer is yes, but I knew I had to go. 

By going, I knew it would build excitement about traveling for my students. Every day I was asked a new question about Nepal. By going, I felt like I would open a door for women of color, like myself, who are also moms and who might have difficulty navigating the home-work-self-care balance. We don’t have to stop doing the things we love, the things that excite us, or make us who we are. The hike was for my sister who passed away, to promote more options to help people struggling with mental health issues. She would have been the first and last person in my DM’s asking me about the food, the views, and what I was going to bring her back. 

“We were all invited from different places and different circles, but we were there for each other.”

The hike itself was remarkable. The empowering women I hiked with came from Arizona, Canada, Colorado, Alaska, and New Mexico, with incredible stories of their own. Each morning we would start with a sage circle and say a personal prayer, and each night my roommate Gabaccia and I would giggle deliriously until we fell asleep. Every day we were given a word to reflect on, and we would share our thoughts each night. There was laughter and oftentimes tears. 

On one particular day I remember hiking and feeling the urge to cry. It was like my body had been bottling years of emotions that needed to be released. Initially, I almost felt a sense of shame, but there was no judgment, just hugs and understanding.  We were all invited from different places and different circles, but we were there for each other. The seafoam colored river, the views, Dal Bhat Power 24 hours,  the piercing wind blowing sand in our faces is something I will always remember, but the lesson learned on the mountain from our guides and each other is something I will always take with me. 

The why

Some of my best memories are seeing students and my children smiling from ear to ear, taking in nature, and asking hundreds of questions about the world around them. The benefits of the outdoors have been proven time after time. I will continue to fight and advocate for these safe outdoors spaces. Where our youth and their families can learn and explore. Where our own stories and traditions from our ancestors will continue to be passed down. A space where we all belong, our comunidad.

Laura Flores (she/her) is Chicana with roots in California and New Mexico. She has been an elementary educator for over 12 years. Her desire to share safe, fun, and accessible opportunities is deeply rooted in her community. As the  Program Coordinator, she believes by providing outdoor connections to the youth of New Mexico she is creating a love for her state, deeper awareness for local and global conservation, and joyful experiences which will continue for generations.

How I ended up offroading, living nomadically, and advocating for women of color.

por Xoshil Morales

Yo Cuento: I count, I matter, I tell

I love how Latino Outdoors chose that trifold slogan for their blog series. As an introvert, I’m not very good at talking about myself. As an OCD person, I postponed writing this blog because I couldn’t gather my thoughts in perfect continuity. Life, sickness, and overseas travel also kept me from writing it, but deep down I knew I was afraid to tell my story. 

But here I am. It’s time!

I’m Xoshil Yahaira Morales Venegas. That’s indeed a very long name. A name I chose to hide for a while because I thought it was limiting my opportunities. I remember sending job applications as Xoshil Morales and getting declined right away. But when I chose to use the name, Zoey Morales, I got several job offers.

The caucasianization, or whitewashing, of my name, resulted in an outpour of opportunities. I didn’t edit my resume, I didn’t take classes. I didn’t do anything different. I simply chose to use a name that did not scare people away.

But now, seven years later, I’m ready to give it up.

In the lower barracks in Orderville, Utah, I felt mother earth and my ancestors calling me and saying it’s time to be you. I was listening to Danit, and the fire was burning strong, keeping my feet warm on a cold winter night. It was only me, the fire, the river, and the stars.

The realization that I had been betraying my people by using a name that wasn’t my own and didn’t represent my culture hit me like a heavy punch in my chest. I remember crying and apologizing as I held cold sand in my hands. Then I sipped on my water and wiped my tears away. Since then, I’ve dedicated several hours to opening doors for BIPOC women and myself.

I chose to stand strong in my roots, to call my ancestors and ask for their guidance. It’s been a beautiful rough path. But I have them by my side, and I’m not a weak one. So how did I end up living in a 4Runner, why do I love offroading, and how do I implement these things to fight for BIPOC representation in the outdoor industry?

Offroading

I was living in Louisiana, working a 9-5. One day my then-boyfriend called and said he had been laid off from the oilfield. My first and only reaction was, “That’s awesome. Now I can quit too, and we can move.” We had been watching Bound For Nowhere on YouTube and were craving adventure. A few weeks later, we had gotten rid of everything we had in our two bedroom apartment and were on our way to Colorado. 

We left most of our stuff in Amarillo, TX, and only took the basics with us. He had a 4Runner. I had a mid-size Mitsubishi Outlander. And that’s how it all began. Little by little, I overcame my fear of ledges, narrow trails, and rock crawling.

Eventually, I sold the Outlander and bought a 1998 4Runner. I started learning mechanics with the help of YouTube and amazing friends who were willing to teach me. I am now an intermediate offroader and couldn’t imagine living any other way.

I have been honored to become an onX offroad mapper. I’ve won the lottery with EDGE to learn fly fishing and other skills that will add value to my current lifestyle. My goal is to learn as much as possible so that I can teach others. I am nothing without a community. I want to show women of color what they’re capable of.

Living Nomadically

The options were, going back to a 9-5 to afford an apartment that was always empty (because I was always in the mountains) or move into my 4Runner full-time. As you can tell, the latter won. I have zero regrets about living in my truck.

It made me resilient, gave me thick skin, and taught me the value of self-reliance. I have met amazing people on the road and seen more sunsets than I can remember. Giving my dog, Jack, a happy outdoor life is priceless to me.

People ask me if I miss toilets and hot showers. The answer is; sometimes. Yes, I’m human. Harsh winters, hot summers, and sickness can make you crave normative households. But when I wake up in the middle of the desert or see the moonrise, I don’t miss anything at all. The good will always overshadow the bad in the forest.

Inclusivity

I’ve recently started using my voice to advocate for women. All women, of course, but especially women of color. We, colored ladies, face many other issues that some do not. Unfortunately, racism is still out there, even from our own. So I will be the stubborn woman standing up for the ones who don’t know how and offering them a safe space. 

I make it a point to share content that inspires women to be themselves, drop societal roles, and find their passion. Life’s too short to live it under other people’s lenses. I love telling young girls that skills, humbleness, and community are far more important than looks and status.


I want to be a great role model to my nieces and all the brown girls out there. Writing for social change, advocating for inclusivity, and creating content that shows representation is what I love. In Latino communities, safe spaces are scarce. We can be the generation to change that. Our girls deserve better, so use your voice to heal and inspire.

Xoshil (pronounced so-chill) Morales is a full-time nomad from Costa Rica exploring the US via an old trusty 4Runner. Xoshil loves writing, creating, playing guitar, and cooking delicious meals.

Yo Cuento: Then & Now

por Josie Gutierrez

Once upon a park in the Texas Hill Country. The year was 1987; the location was Garner State Park. The cast of characters was a best friend of mine who was a summer regular with her family at this park and me, with no camping or hiking experience, nada. The only parks I knew of were the city parks and a small local lake or two. I loved adventure and a good road trip. So, when my friend suggested we camp out for the weekend at Garner, I was quick to say YES! She was the first friend to suggest hiking and camping to me. She said her family went every year. That was good enough for a 20-year-old me … vamos afuera. A quick reminder, there was no social media, no Facebook/Instagram/Twitter y menos, el Tik-Tok in the 80’s.

Growing up, I never heard any mention of careers that involved parks. The few magazines, TV shows, or movies I watched or read that involved camping or hiking never had anybody that represented my culture or community. So, I was intrigued by this adventure in nature. What a cool opportunity, I thought. I even remember feeling a sense of empowerment. If I survived this weekend under the stars, then maybe I was stronger than I thought. My friend said the park had no wildlife we had to worry about, (como osos) and that was good enough for me. Little did I know then that this trip would connect me to nature in the most beautiful way. “The star at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas.” These lyrics from a country song I heard growing up, now really meant something to me. My perspective of nature took a whole new meaning.

“Camping and hiking sounded so foreign, yet the connection to La Madre Tierra was even closer than I ever imagined. It wasn’t until that camping trip to Garner that I saw nature in a whole different way.”

I was born and raised in San Antonio. The schools I attended and the community I grew up in were primarily Latino. I never thought I was missing anything growing up. I had a beautiful family, tons of cousins, great friends, and what I felt was a good education. My dad took me to Disneyland Park every summer, and I had a Sweet Sixteen. One set of grandparents had chickens, ducks, roosters, and a horse my dad bought me because he said I asked for one and that it was a good deal, haha. The other set of grandparents had beautiful roses and banana trees in front of their casita and the back was full of cilantro, tomatoes, chili pequin, y cebolla. My mom was the oldest of thirteen and my dad the second to youngest of seven, and here I was, their only child. I never quite felt alone because I had so many cousins close to my age. My parents met in Middle School and married right out of high school. My dad was a migrant worker from the ages of eight to fifteen. The family would travel to Indiana and then Michigan every year “al Norte.”

His love of fruits, vegetables, travel, and the outdoors was a huge part of his youth. The road trips to Disneyland in California were his idea of taking me to a park. My youth was spent outside playing with my friends y familia. My parents divorced by the time I was 5. My mom moved to an apartment complex, and that is where we lived till I started high school. I learned how to roller-skate, ride my bike, and practice cheerleading and dance routines. I met my best friend there, and we are still in touch to this day. My relationship with my Dad stayed strong, and I love my mom dearly for not letting what didn’t work out for them affect my relationship with my dad.

Pictures of Josie during the past ten years.

My first steps were afuera in my abuelitas yard. We celebrated birthday parties, graduations, anniversaries, and even Easter at the local city parks. I learned to speak Spanish, and my culture was celebrated all around me in the food I ate, the music I listened to, and the travels to Mexico, where my grandparents still had family. Camping and hiking sounded so foreign, yet the connection to La Madre Tierra was even closer than I ever imagined. It wasn’t until that camping trip to Garner that I saw nature in a whole different way. It was a combination of my youth and the possibility for my future that left me speechless in the wild. Standing in the middle of the clearest river, surrounded by hills, listening to the birds sing as they flew from one magical cypress tree to another. The sun was shining, and I stood there and listened. This space made me feel vulnerable, happy, strong, silly, naïve, independent, fearless and so much more. My soul stirred, and it was at that exact moment I knew I would be back.

I did return to that park for many years as a friend, mom, daughter, sister, aunt, and grandmother, and in the last seven years, as the Program Coordinator for Latino Outdoors. I wanted everyone I cared about to feel what I felt in nature and to create their own adventures, make beautiful memories and feel the sense of empowerment I felt. I knew they would never forget how they felt. I just had to get them there, afuera.

Josie with the Latino Outdoors flag.

That first park was just the beginning. I learned more about a Texas state agency, The Texas Parks & Wildlife Department (TPWD). In addition to protecting wildlife and their habitats, their mission is to manage and conserve the natural and cultural resources of Texas and to provide hunting, fishing, and outdoor recreating opportunities for the use of enjoyment of present and future generations. The Texas Parks are celebrating 100 years of Texas State Parks in 2023.

I learned about these parks in 1987. But once I did, I shared this with anyone who would listen. It wasn’t as easy back then; there was no YouTube to show you how to put your tent up, much less Eventbrite to sign up for a how-to class.

“Then one day, I got a message on Twitter asking me if I would like to be an Ambassador for Latino Outdoors in San Antonio. It was a quick YES! There was no way I wasn’t going to be a part of this journey.”

It wasn’t until my girls were young adults that I was blessed with a sweet granddaughter. I had more time to explore and wanted to take her to the parks her mom had enjoyed as a child. The year was 2015, and my granddaughter was four. I was researching the outdoors on social media and discovered Latino Outdoors on Instagram. I saw myself in the images they shared. I noticed they had plenty of beautiful outdoor images of Latinos hiking, camping, backpacking, swimming, fishing y mas. I also noticed none of these images were tagged in Texas. I wanted to be a part of this new community. So, I tagged them every chance I got with outdoor Texas images. Then one day, I got a message on Twitter asking me if I would like to be an Ambassador for Latino Outdoors in San Antonio. It was a quick YES! There was no way I wasn’t going to be a part of this journey.

Latino Outdoors was still in its early stages as an organization in 2015. We had no monthly budget for outings, and at the very beginning, I became very resourceful. I introduced myself to anyone in charge of the outdoor spaces I wanted to visit and learn more about, not just for myself but for possible future outings with the Latino Outdoors-San Antonio Chapter. I tabled at any outdoor event possible, joined in on the ones that were exploring, and was consistent on the new Facebook and Instagram pages I created. No one knew about Latino Outdoors. The organization had just a handful of chapters in California. They had no clue about the outdoors in Texas. This would be my chapter to create, nurture and grow. My daughters were now young adults, and that left me more time to explore. I wasted no time. Just like I made sure my daughters went camping, hiking, and tubing down the Frio River, as part of their youth, I now had a sweet four-year-old granddaughter that I could take along on this Latino Outdoors journey. This year she will be a teenager, and I am so proud of her. She has been a huge part of the San Antonio Chapter and, most recently, even helped me with a LO presentation for the Texas Parks and Wildlife; not kidding. May her love for nature nurture her soul always.

The first few outings were with family, friends, and co-workers. I made sure to take images of these beautiful spaces and share what we saw and learned from our outings. I knew from the beginning that this chapter was going to grow. I just had to make our foundation strong and sprinkle it con amor, authenticity, adventure, and respect for all the places we visited. People often ask me if I have had any negative outdoor experiences with our groups. The answer is no. I never just show up, and I always make sure I contact the parks we will be exploring. I want to share these spaces that belong to us all with my Latino community. I want to ensure that our voices are being heard and that our history y cultura are valued and represented. I want to hear kids say, “When I grow up, I want to be a Park Ranger, Wildlife Biologist, National Park Service Director, the United States Secretary of the Interior.”

I was not getting paid to be an ambassador con Latino Outdoors, but I knew how important the platform I was given a voice and space to shine would be. I am so proud of the last seven-plus years con LO. Our foundation is respect and kindness for each other to create meaningful and lasting relationships that go beyond the outdoors. Juntos, we bring out the best in each other. This is how we learn and grow.

Obstacles will come and go, but I always say to listen to the universe and make sure to have a plan A, B, and C. Always have snacks, hydration, your first aid kit, and great company to laugh with when things don’t go as planned.

“I want to hear kids say, “when I grow up, I want to be a Park Ranger, Wildlife Biologist, National Park Service Director, or the United States Secretary of the Interior.”

Seven years ago, I took a chance on me and in the process, I have become more curious, stronger, daring, bold, gutsy, confident, and so proud and vulnerable to be a Latina Outside. In keeping our cultura alive I want us to fearlessly embrace our individuality as we protect and take space on the land we love and protect.

I am so proud of the Texas Chapter and what our Leaders, volunteers, and community have helped create. We somehow all found each other and continue to authentically grow. We are familia celebrating each other, our gente, our tradiciones, y la Madre Tierra.

I have learned to kayak, backpack, not shower for four days, lol (but seriously), make fire, pitch my own tent, sleep in cold weather, travel to National Parks I only dreamed of, and even visit the White House on this journey con Latino Outdoors. I hold space on councils with Texas Parks and Wildlife and National Parks Conservation Association. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this. I just wanted to share my love for the outdoors, one park at a time. I realize now that this was just the beginning of the work that still needs to be done. I know that in my lifetime, I won’t fix every issue in conservation and solve every inequity in representation and beyond. But I do promise to do what I can as I continue to learn and grow with my newest role as “Regional Coordinator for San Antonio, Texas.”

I am not a complainer; I am a doer. I believe in myself, my family, and my community. There is a need for the connection we seek as we are validated and included in these open spaces. It all starts with you. Take a chance and change is ok at any pace.

You will find your people … promise : ).