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Category: Introductions to the Outdoors

Community Organizations Building Access to Backcountry

por Victoria Rodríguez

Over ten years ago I embarked on my first backpacking trip to Sykes Hot Springs in Big Sur. I was woefully unprepared for the grueling, 10-mile uphill battle in direct sunlight and what felt like 90-degree heat. I went with a girlfriend of mine, who shared my love of hot-springs, and I came only with a daypack and some bungee-cord, awkwardly securing my sleeping bag.

As unprepared as I was, I fell in love. It was so unlike any camping experience I’d ever had and I immediately knew I’d be back. And I was. I visited Sykes every year until the fires burned down the trail. I also began backpacking at least two to four times a year since then, either solo or with one or two friends; Sykes was an experience that really did open the floodgates for me.

What I had become staunchly aware of back then was the lack of diversity in the backcountry. Living in the Bay Area, I was surrounded by all groups of people – even while camping – but while backpacking two things became apparent: 1) It’s a man’s world and; 2) These men are usually white. Homogeneity is weird to me so I’ve dreamed of a world where these experiences are filled with different people with common goals.

Lost Coast Trail - cascading mountains along the pacific ocean cost

It was a few years ago when I went on a backpacking trip to the Lost Coast in Northern California. My friend Vero and I talked about how we were the only POC’s on the trail, and I’m a white-passing, Spanish-learning Latina. I had a dream a couple of days after this trip where I took a group of Latinx women out to Yosemite for their first backpacking experience and it was this that prompted me to reach out to Latino Outdoors to ask if I could volunteer.

Fast-forward to this past June, and my dream came true. My Program Director set me up with a couple of other LO Volunteers to help lead the outing and I couldn’t have asked for a more capable crew to learn from. This outing took *a lot* of planning, including weekly meetings, outreach, and outside partnerships, but LO had all the resources, we just had to reach out and grab them.

When all our hard work finally came to fruition, I found myself so thankful for everything I was given: incredible leadership partners, sweet + thoughtful + eager participants, and a dream that had become a reality. I’m not really sure how to articulate the emotions that passed through me. They can maybe be explained in moments like when we sat at the top of Mt. Hoffman, lovingly referred to as the Heart of Yosemite. One of our group members spoke of how she never even thought that backpacking could be for her; she never saw herself “in it”. It shocked me how perfectly her story fit in with the conception of this trip and her account brought most of us to tears.

Women swimming in lake at Yosemite campsite

So often members of my community are told they don’t belong in the backcountry, in more ways than one: the advertising that’s only now beginning to showcase diverse people in both ethnicity and sizing (sometimes I wonder…authentically?), the gatekeepers of the outdoors who can be completely uninviting and lack diversity themselves, the outdoor industry and its lack of diversity organizationally, and the sheer disparity of access. It was important for me to have this outing be women & non-binary identifying people-only because women and the queer community have more barriers to the backcountry. These barriers typically revolve around safety and an inequitable feeling of belonging, so I wanted to create a safe, supportive space where no one would feel embarrassed for not knowing something, or not having the “right gear”, and everyone would feel safe in numbers.

Women at trailhead in backpacking gear

I know this was a small group in relation to the whole, but I do feel the more we hold this space the more we are making change. However small that change may be, it was meaningful to this group of women.

Access to gear, transportation, permitting systems, and the like, can be huge barriers for this type of recreation, and we were able to provide all of it. None of our participants had been backpacking before, and they now have the knowledge to pitch a tent, pack their gear, choose which gear to leave home, filter water, and so on. Our trip wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. We had a lot of learnings and areas for improvement, (like a system to organize and track the gear we borrowed, ughhh *face-palm*), but I think it’s radical that we’re even holding this space.

As I look back at our pictures through my lens as a marketer, I think to myself – These are the people that should be flooding our media, and they should have from the start. Working in the outdoor industry for most of my career, it’s my job to highlight these faces and their stories, and I plan to move forward with this intention as much as possible. Special thanks to Latino Outdoors, Yosemite NPS, Fresno BHC, Sandy Hernandez, Veronica Miranda, Araceli Hernandez, and Ruby Rodriguez for making this trip possible. Without you all, I’d be going on my backcountry trips, wishing for change – instead, you gave me the power to take action.

Original blog posted on Linkedin. Victoria was born in Los Angeles, CA, and grew up in both upstate New York and Southern California. Yearly camping trips to Yosemite while living in CA and lake cabins in the summer while in NY, ignited her passion for the outdoors. From there she moved to NorCal to attend San Francisco State University and continued to live in the Bay for over 16 years, while familiarizing herself with the local outdoor activities and cultivating a love for backpacking as the Bay Area is home to numerous backcountry recreation areas.

As a Latino Outdoors volunteer, Victoria aspires to bring more members of Latinx community into the outdoors to share her passion for backpacking and camping, all while educating on best practices for safety and conservation.

De Cacería

por Felix Hernández

I remember my father taking our family on rides down the dirt roads in the southeast part of New Mexico. I can remember hearing the chirps of the quail and the sound of insects as we turned the corners and drove into the desert. There would be an abrupt stop at the end of the trail and we would get out and load our .22 rifles. We were rabbit hunting. This is where my father taught us to respect weapons, this is where he taught us to respect the wildlife and nature. This is where my love for the outdoors began.

By profession, I am a high school teacher and coach. I am also a parent and certified hunter ed instructor in the state of New Mexico. Like many of my peers, I am a second-generation immigrant because I was raised in the U.S., although I was born in Mexico. My background and experiences have given me a different outlook on what it means to be a person of color in the hunting community. My father would always share wonderful stories of him and relatives hunting the mountains of Oaxaca back home. He would tell of the struggles they faced as hunters with limited resources, relating challenges such as navigating through the wilderness without maps, or hunting without optics. Everyone gathers around and listens when my father tells and retells stories.

“My father would always share wonderful stories of him and relatives hunting the mountains of Oaxaca back home. He would tell of the struggles they faced as hunters with limited resources, relating challenges such as navigating through the wilderness without maps, or hunting without optics.”

As I grew up in New Mexico, I slowly realized that we were limited to one hunting area because it was a friend’s private land. We had permission to hunt that area, but I wanted to explore, and my dad didn’t have the knowledge of where and how to access public land. I wanted to see what else nature had to offer. I wanted to be able to hunt game in the forest. I realized that if I wanted to also tell my own stories like my father, I would need to find a way to hunt these public lands like everyone else. I was motivated, I was encouraged, and I had the drive. I took the time to educate myself on the rules and regulations in the state, and before I knew it we were all hunting public land. Of course, this was no overnight task. It has taken me years to learn about different units, weapons, restrictions, game, equipment, weather, terrain, and cooking game.

“I realized that if I wanted to also tell my own stories like my father, I would need to find a way to hunt these public lands like everyone else. I was motivated, I was encouraged, and I had the drive.”

The list continues and the learning continues. I created De Cacería back in 2017 because I felt that Latinos are underrepresented in the hunting community. Every hunt tells a story. I’ve found that no two hunts are the same. They might be similar but they are not the same. “De Cacería” directly translates into, “of hunting”. Everything is a product of that hunt. In your journey, you may experience, frustration, joy, defeat, exhaustion, triumph, success, failure, and the list goes on. All these experiences are a product of hunting. De Cacería was created to help the Latino/Hispanic community find something they can relate to in their own journey. The current study from US Fish and Wildlife shows that 3 percent of hunters are of the Latino/Hispanic descent. We are hoping to create a place where our people may feel more comfortable seeking information and or guidance in their journey. It has taken me some time to figure out all the pieces involved in this sport. If sharing our stories and journey can help motivate individuals to get outdoors, then we will gladly help out the community in every way we can.

Un Mar De Colores “One Ocean Touches All Shores”

por Mario Ordóñez-Calderón

The ocean is one of the biggest connectors we as humans have on this planet. An experience in the sea in any capacity can have an enormous impact- it has the power to embrace and humble, calm and empower. My love and understanding for the ocean came later in life. It was through the art of surfing that my perspective shifted, and I no longer viewed the ocean shore as the great divider but instead as the beginning of exploration and connection.

Learning to surf was every bit as challenging as it was exciting. Navigating crowds, learning how to read the waves, and understanding tides were all part of that process. Not to mention, fifteen stitches from a wipeout gone wrong can mentally and physically leave its mark. I kept paddling out despite the growing pains, becoming addicted to all the sensations that came with surfing. I loved the way my first duck dive into the cold water left me feeling cleansed of all stresses, the deep tranquility I found while sitting out in the line up and the flow state while cruising down the open face of a wave. Learning to surf helped me learn more about myself. I gained not only self-clarity, but also a community of fellow surfers who shared my passions in and out of the water.

“I recognized that I was lucky enough to have a friend already immersed in surf culture to help me feel comfortable out in the water. It was this reflection that prompted me to question how I could return that favor for other multicultural youth with a similar upbringing as mine”.

Mario Ordóñez-Calderón

I remember the moment when the idea of sharing my passion for surfing with others sparked. Two years ago, while loading up the car to surf I’d see my Guatemalan neighbor’s kids playing out front or getting ready for school. As I drove away to the beach –less than a mile down the street– I looked back through the rear view mirror and saw kids that reminded me of myself in my youth. I began to wonder why it was that I never saw that family heading to the beach.

This subtle observation sparked within me a series of questions to try and understand why I didn’t see more Latinos out in the water, even though the Latino population in San Diegos were so large. As I reflected on my own experience, I recognized that I was lucky enough to have a friend already immersed in surf culture to help me feel comfortable out in the water. It was this reflection that prompted me to question how I could return that favor for other multicultural youth with a similar upbringing as mine.

From that blossomed Un Mar De Colores. We are a nonprofit organization that bridges the socioeconomic gap in surfing by providing free surf lessons to children of color and underserved youth. The mission is simple: share the ocean, diversify the lineup, and inspire youth. We create a space that offers a safe, relevant, and inclusive presence within communities and neighborhoods that have historically not received equitable opportunities to experience the ocean and use their voice.

We want to drive home the message that the ocean does not discriminate, it welcomes all and provides a ‘sense of place’ no matter an individual’s circumstance or color. We hosted our first Surf Fiestas in the Summer of 2020 and have been working closely with a young group of local North County kids since. We choose to go deep with a select group of 10-15 kids under the age of 12 offering them one-on-one mentorship with primarily BIPOC surfers. A key element of Un Mar De Colores is the constant effort to inspire passion and purpose through play, encouraging participants to find direction in the world through the things that bring them joy. We truly believe something as simple as catching a wave has the opportunity to teach a child their greatest life lessons.

UMDC’s second (and just as important) mission is providing visibility into an already existing rich culture of people of color within the surfing community. Our media initiative called #RepresentationMatters highlights surfers/watermen/waterwomen of multicultural backgrounds in order to show the beauty of diversity in the ocean community. We strongly believe that representation in media has a powerful impact, and is a key component in the success of multicultural youth involvement and dedication to understand the ocean as their space, too. #RepresentationMatters has truly given us the ability to inspire through art. Most recently, we collaborated with Patagonia Cardiff and Santa Barbara based artist DJ Javier to create a mural called “The Beach is For All” on the side of their storefront. Un Mar De Colores is just as proud about our art scholarships in which we grant funding to several BIPOC artists throughout the year in order for them to create ocean/surf inspired art. Whether it be a painting, a surf film, or an illustration- we see the importance of promoting the connection between art, surf, and diversity.

Un Mar De Colores has been taking shape strongly over the past half a year, and it’s all thanks to the ongoing community support. It takes a village to change culture and cultivate a more inclusive surfing community for posterity, and as a non-profit we’ve gotten as far as we have because of the continuous support from our volunteers, friends/familia, and donors. At the end of the day, I’m filled with gratitude with the ability to have a positive ripple effect in the lives of others. The ocean gave me a sense of belonging. Living a life so interconnected with it has opened doors for me in just about every aspect of my life. Passing that along to others is a cherry on top. I’m looking forward to continuing to share this passion as we start to move things along for our 2021 program.

In addition to being a surfer and co-founder of Un Mar de Colores, Mario is a mountaineer, bikepacker, and much more. Get to know him through Cycle of Ancestry, a short film about Mario’s cultural heritage and love for the outdoors.