Cycles

And with that, the 2024 season comes to an end...

Just as the sun started to tease us with its rays, the leaves turned and fell, and Autumn was well and truly here. 2024 weaved meticulously through its seasons warping and wefting through the days, interlacing into the fabric of 2024. Now water sports stores across the country are closing up, and the kayaks, canoes and paddles are being placed on precarious shelves for a well-deserved rest. Buoyancy aids are slumping with relief at not having to be punched by enthusiastic year 6 boys. Boilers pushed beyond their capabilities are now coughing or lifeless as wetsuits try to dry and showers turn disappointingly cold. Instructors check their activities schedule in vain the night before, knowing, that as the morning arrives a staff shuffle around to accommodate the staff block epidemic is inevitable…. 

With the turn into Autumn, I like to reflect on the season that has just passed. 

This year I asked myself the following questions,

How did the season go?

What did I do well?

What was my weakness this season?

Am I where I thought I would be?

What goals do I have for spring? 

How will I rest appropriately this winter? 

Overall this season has been an amazing experience for me, I have been challenged, pushed and met with fantastic opportunities to develop my outdoor career. But, as is common with many instructors and neurodiverse folk, I pushed myself incredibly hard in September and made myself ill with fatigue. Having a balance is key and this is something I don’t have entirely sussed yet. I suspect the only remedy to this, is time and a hard pill of trial and error. 

I have just completed my third year in the industry and something I was naive to was the loss this time of year can bring. Unlike your average career, the staff turnaround is massive. Not because the places I work have been HR nightmares, but because it is the nature of the outdoor industry. Free-spirited yet highly motivated people on seasonal contracts, tend to move on. The fantastic people I have had the opportunity to meet become anecdotes in conversation. 

The people are what keep me hooked on the industry. The stories they tell of adventures in sailing boats or climbing epics in les Alpes, and tales of raucous drunken antics are exciting and inspiring-(maybe not the drunken ones) and nuanced. The best advice and guidance for life comes out of instructors in ways that never fail to surprise me. Their collective profoundness stems from diverse backgrounds and twisting pathways into the industry. In my job, I can speak to artists, geographers, marine biologists, trainee teachers, geologists and coaches all under the guise of an instructor. Each one is a droplet, finding the industry like mountain rain making its way back to the sea. Water doesn’t stay in one place for long. 

Many of these people I spent intense periods with, fade to intangible pixels and a caption. A feeling many seasonal folk know well is ambivalence, a deep sense of excitement for what is next and a heavy heart at the goodbyes together with the inevitable change. 

As one door closes another opens, and it opens wide. Before you know it spring rolls around and a new cohort enters. 

The cycle goes round once again.