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9 WAYS A GUIDE COULD SPEND THEIR TAX RETURN

It’s important to remember that guiding doesn’t necessarily need to be synonymous with complete life upheaval once a year. Continue to explore all the different ways “guide life” can manifest.

Written by Emerald LaFortune

Luckily, tax return season and April (often a lean time of year for those who work a summer season) overlap. The IRS did that on purpose, right? If a chunk of change is coming your way this spring, consider investing it in your summer season in these nine ways.

1. A storage unit. Likely, you’ve just rounded up all your gear, kitchen utensils and books from various friend’s basements and Mom’s garage. You’ll never see that favorite flannel shirt again and your dry top gaskets look suspiciously stretched out by wrists not your own. You’ve got a blender but no lid and that cardboard box of books smells suspiciously like cat pee. What if there was a system where you could just rent a garage and not a full house? It could be a big metal box with a sliding door and no stairs…oh wait - this exists. A storage unit can be your only house rather than your overflow house. A storage unit is a worthy summer investment for those who’d prefer not to store their life in Rubbermaid bins behind their car at the guide house.

2. An oil change. For many guides, our wheels are home sweet home. Often the rural places we guide from aren’t known for their superb auto mechanic resources. Give your rig TLC now to avoid the “stranded between McCall and Stanley with a busted head gasket the night before a six day trip” event we’ve all come close to.

3. A PO box. Did you laugh when your friend complained about filing their taxes? And you explained that you’ve worked for 5 different companies in 4 different states AND contracted out as a small business? A PO box can go a long way to helping you keep bank statements, birthday cards from Grandma and all those W-2s in one place.

4. Gear repair. Re-strapping your Chacos, pressure testing your dry suit, 303ing dry bags, oiling your hiking boots, checking over your safety gear… spring is the time for a thorough gear assessment. Dealing with gear issues now lets you take advantage of sweet pro deals and warranties rather than making panicked visits to the expensive gear store twenty minutes before put in.

5. Doctors appointments. Ughhhhhhhh. I know, I know. This one. Long days physically and emotionally as a guide mean extra wear and tear on both your body and your brain. As a guide you have to take care of yourself to take care of others. Go to the dentist, get that STI screening, have the mole on the back of your hand looked at, check in with a mental health professional. We know that the cost of doctor appointment can quickly outstrip tax return income. If the idea of deciphering insurance or being in town long enough to schedule an appointment is too overwhelming, stop by the Redside sponsored health fair at this year's Idaho River Rendezvous.

6. A gift for your significant other. Being in the field all season can be hard on relationships. Whether or not your loved one is a guide, a thoughtful gift or handwritten letter saying “thanks for putting up with my crazy job” can go a long way. If your significant other is a dog, this still applies.

7. Dinner with that guide that has their sh&@* together. We have a lot of career guides in Idaho - the type that have a mortgage, take their kids to soccer practice, and return home after a trip to a shower not infested with weird foot fungus. Spend some of your tax return on a bottle of wine and make a dinner date with them and their family. It’s important to remember that guiding doesn’t necessarily need to be synonymous with complete life upheaval once a year. Continue to explore all the different ways “guide life” can manifest.

8. A fall investment. Whether it’s a class, a deposit on an apartment, a plane ticket to see friends or an hour-long massage, scheduling something to look forward to in the fall can help alleviate the post-season blues. You’ll be too exhausted come August to make the effort then. Schedule it in now - you’ll be glad you did.

9. An adventure. You spend all summer helping others have the adventure of a life time. You do work that helps connect families, inspires people to protect wild landscapes and teaches guests to trust their own abilities. Whether it’s a day on the water with friends, a climbing trip to the desert, or skiing the last spring corn of spring, take some time to give yourself an adventure too. Connect to your family, inspire yourself in the wild landscape you love and remember the extent of your abilities. It’s sure to be tax return well invested into a busy upcoming season.

How do you spend your tax return before guiding season? Leave us a comment!

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GUIDE OF THE MONTH: SARA LUNDY, SAWTOOTH MOUNTAIN GUIDES

One early season private trip on the Main Salmon I was running my own boat for the first time. I came around the corner at Big Mallard and see Telly on the right bank dancing around and pointing left, left, left! The Big Mallard rock was out and Telly, being the strong, amazing boater that he was, thought he'd try going right. He ended up plastered on the rock and swears the only reason they didn't flip was he had two big farm boys wedged under the table up front. They peeled off and he made it to shore in time to point everybody following him to the left. He was an incredible leader for many reasons but one big one was his ability to make mistakes, share them and make you feel fine about making your own mistakes. I think of him every time I sneak between those big Big Mallard rocks. And lots of other times too.

hotography by Tanner Haskins & Scott Knickerbocker

Interviewed by Emerald LaFortune

Name:  Sara Lundy
Hometown:  New Meadows, Idaho
Current Location:  Stanley, Idaho
Job Title at Sawtooth Mountain Guides (SMG): Co-Owner and Guide
Years Guiding: 15 years

How did you become an SMG guide?

After attending the College of Idaho, I had been working in Stanley during the summers and decided to try a winter season.  I lived at Papa Brunees and made pizza a couple of nights a week. I met Kirk Bachman, the founder of SMG, and started to help haul loads up to the Williams Peak Hut. I became the hut keeper, hut cook, and assistant guide. By 2003 I had enough experience and training to get my first ski guides license.

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You have been a river guide as well?  

I got my first Idaho guides license in 2001 as a river guide for Sawtooth Adventure Company on the day stretch of the Salmon near Stanley.  I had only ever done a few private trips (mostly with Telly!) but Jared Hopkinson took a chance and put me on the stick. I ended up working 4 years on the day stretch and 9 years full time on the Middle Fork. I still run a few Middle Fork trips every year with Jared at Rocky Mountain River Tours.

What’s the most rewarding part of your work?

Introducing people to wilderness experiences that they wouldn't have had otherwise. I love the mountains and rivers and wilderness! Time spent in the wild fixes most things - it's meditative and rejuvenating, it untangles my brain and refills my reserves.  And at the same time it's challenging in all the right ways - physically, mentally and often emotionally. The wilderness experience is a core necessity for me so it's extremely satisfying to share that with others. It's really rewarding to help a first time camper set up a tent and witness them enjoy the simplest camp stove dinner like it's a 3-star michelin experience. And it's just as rewarding to belay a long-time skier into the 50 degree couloir she'd been eyeing for years but needed a little technical help to enter.

The most frustrating?  

As with any profession, the frustrations change over time. I remember early on trying to piece together enough work to survive and now as a business owner there's not enough time for the work.

Have you ever thought of moving on from guiding? Why did/didn’t you?  

My husband Chris and I had worked on the Middle Fork for an incredible family for many years.  When they decided to sell we thought it might be a good time for us to move on. We didn't want to be the old guides saying, "That's not how we do it around here."  But even before the next season we realized that we weren't ready to be done. It was a good reminder to not get burned out, stay flexible and open to new ideas, reevaluate often.  Also, before we decided to build a little house in Stanley and buy into SMG we did some serious soul searching and exploratory traveling. One hard thing about guiding is that we realize we might not be able to do it forever.  My body will get tired and I won't want to be out on big physical days, day after day.  I feel lucky to now be a part of the business side of guiding. But what about our guides? I don't know the answer but I'm excited that the Redside Foundation is around to be a part of those kinds of discussions.

Photo: Tanner Haskins

Photo: Tanner Haskins

Who inspires you as a guide?  

Kirk Bachman, who founded SMG in 1985 and whose dedication and character provide a solid, timeless inspiration. All of SMG's guides, past and present, who work so hard, are constantly striving to be even better guides and who go above and beyond for every client. Kurt and Gayle Selisch, who always believed in me and loved me, and make me want to be the best guide I can be and inspire that in others.

What inspires you as a guide?  

The mountains and rivers and sunsets and sunrises.

How do you support your fellow guides and how do they support you?  

As a business owner we have the responsibility of providing certain support for our guides.  We believe it's our responsibility to pay well, have a fair hierarchy for scheduling, have a pay scale based on experience and training (increase in pay for every additional training), provide training, morning and evening meetings to check in on the day of guiding and also guide concerns, try to keep everything as transparent as possible and support our guides doing what they need to do to make the guiding profession work.  And our guides in return work so hard and make sacrifices in their lives to support SMG and provide the best service for our clients.  Our guides are amazing!  On a more personal level, I think most all guides are watching out for each other.

How do you take care of yourself during the guiding season?  

Usually not well enough!  The seasonal work means that when the season is on it's gogogo.  Eat as much as you can, sleep as much as you can, find a day to go ski for fun if you can. I actually tore my meniscus this season and had repair surgery that has put me out for the rest of the ski season. One thing that I'm realizing is that we go a little too hard!  This forced downtime reminds me that an occasional break is so important. I really respect the guides who take a week off midseason. I see how important it is now for so many reasons...physically, mentally, for friendships and in order to be the best you can be and come back strong and healthy.

What advice would you give an aspiring backcountry skiing/climbing guide?  

Figure out how to get as much personal experience as you can. Ski and climb and explore and love it. Then get training. The American Mountain Guide Association offers training that is becoming the standard.  And then get guiding experience. Sounds so easy, huh!?  I know it's not, but it's possible if it's what you really want and you're willing to get creative, be patient and humble and not give up on it.

Why Idaho?  

After college I traveled around quite a bit, spending a chunk of time in Bend, Missoula, and even NYC for a few months.  I was always drawn back to Idaho and Stanley in particular maybe because it has the perfect amount of wild for me. I figured that where my dog was happiest, so was I. She preferred Stanley.

You knew Telly Evans (the guide and friend that the Redside Foundation was started in memorial of) - any favorite memories of your times with him?  

So many!  And they all include his big laugh and crinkly-eyed smile. One early-season private trip on the Main Salmon I was running my own boat for the first time. I came around the corner at Big Mallard and see Telly on the right bank dancing around and pointing left, left, left! The Big Mallard rock was out and Telly, being the strong, amazing boater that he was, thought he'd try going right. He ended up plastered on the rock and swears the only reason they didn't flip was he had two big farm boys wedged under the table up front. They peeled off and he made it to shore in time to point everybody following him to the left.  He was an incredible leader for many reasons but one big one was his ability to make mistakes, share them and make you feel fine about making your own mistakes. I think of him every time I sneak between those big Big Mallard rocks. And lots of other times too.  

What’s your favorite yurt meal?

Mexi! Pork carnitas, rice and beans, slaw, and Yurtaritas

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Scott Knickerbocker

Thanks Sara, we'll see you on the slopes and on the water!



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THE PRIDE OF BEING A GUIDE

A guide may not have the traditionally well-built resume of a campaign organizer, policy changer, or non-profit employee. But helping people to care about a place or issue enough to take action is as much about affecting their heart as it is about appealing to their logic or wallet. And when a guest watches their child open in joy after a big rapid, or eats dinner while the sun set over a pastel pink river, or sleeps out on a sand beach with their loved one, it touches a heart place. When a guest sees how their guide loves their place like they love a limb attached to their body, it touches a heart place too.

 by Emerald LaFortune

A serious nine-year-old boy is perched on the front of my boat. In one hand he grips a spinning rod, his other hand is clenched on a blue cam strap. We’ve just passed the confluence of the Snake River and the Salmon River. It feels like a symbolic spot, Idaho’s wildest river and it's most domesticated meeting to shake hands. I almost speak up, ask this kid what he thinks these two rivers are trying to tell us. Then I remember he is nine and keep quiet. As the surging rapids of the confluence turn to glassy flat water, he turns to look me in the eye.

“What’s your favorite animal, Emerald?” he questions.

“Probably a river otter?” I reply, caught off guard.

He studies me for a second.

“That is a water animal. What is your favorite land animal?”

“Um. Elephant.” I say. It’s the end of a long day and it’s the first that comes to mind.

He turns around and sends his lure splashing into the eddy line on our left.

“What’s your favorite water animal?” I ask, liking the way kids don’t expect much continuity in their conversations.

“Salmon,” he states without hesitation, slowly reeling his lure back into the boat.

“Good one,” I reply. Want to know something cool about salmon?”

He nods, gaze on his line skittering through the deep, green water.

So as the wooden oars and my tired back muscles propel us through the still water, I tell him about the itty bitty creeks that salmon are born in. I turn the raft around and row backward, explaining how the salmon are flushed to the ocean, just like we are now, facing upstream. We talk about how the salmon grow big and strong in the ocean, just like he is growing big and strong right now. We imagine how much work it must take to jump up fish ladders and the rapids we have just boated through. We speculate on how totally cool it would be to catch a salmon on his spinning rod.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the conversation has moved on to trail mix and if it’s time to swim yet.

When I decided to work as a whitewater guide again post-university graduation, I felt a bit sheepish. Four years of college education and a degree to land a job I was qualified for without it? When I told family and friends my post-grad plan I would explain how “it was a break year” and how I’d land a “real job” soon.

But as the boy swims alongside my boat, practicing his salmon technique (lots of flopping), I think about what it means to be a guide. The West is covered in us – from mountaineering guides to fishing guides to hiking guides to rafting guides to climbing guides. The community is stereotyped, occasionally accurately, as a collection of young adults dirtbagging around, making ends meet from season to season, living out of vehicles, thriving on adrenaline and PBR, and otherwise avoiding the real world with it’s bank accounts and office desks. Many of us started guiding not because we love managing stranger’s vacations, but because we love the places we guide in. When the place you love is a permitted river, or 10,000 ft peak, or boat-only access fishing hole, you get creative.

When I applied for my summer job in February of 2013, it was for the sole purpose of spending as much time as I possibly could on the rivers in Idaho. Yet as the summer progressed, I found myself enjoying the people as much as the place. Not just the vibrant, laughing river guides, but the guests as well.

As I haul the boy back into the boat by the lapels of his personal flotation device (even salmon have to get out of the water and eat trail mix on occasion), I think about my undergraduate degree. Environmental Studies students are taught to translate and communicate complicated policy and science in ways that is worthwhile and meaningful. I wonder, if a picture is worth 1,000 words, what is an experience? I think of the Floridian investment banker who sat in awe in a dory, as guides laughed and played music around him, the Idaho sky exploding in stars. “I haven’t seen the stars like this in sixteen years,” he said quietly. “This trip is changing my life.”A guide may not have the traditionally well-built resume of a campaign organizer, policy changer, or non-profit employee. But helping people to care about a place or issue enough to take action is as much about affecting their heart as it is about appealing to their logic or wallet. And when a guest watches their child open in joy after a big rapid, or eats dinner while the sun set over a pastel pink river, or sleeps out on a sand beach with their loved one, it touches a heart place . When a guest sees how their guide loves their place like they love a limb attached to their body, it touches a heart place too.

Many young adults won’t be guides forever – but most take that heart work and apply it into being some of the most passionate organizers, teachers, office workers, business people, parents, and friends I know.

So now, I say it with strength instead of sheepishness.

I am a guide.


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