It took me over 40 years to tell this story. Why? Because it is one of my life’s most humbling and embarrassing experiences. But looking back, I now realize it taught me some valuable life lessons.
I was in my early 50s, and Hume Publishing, the business I founded a decade earlier, was taking off. This made me a prime prospect to be recruited to serve on the boards of non-profit organizations. One of these was Outward Bound, an outdoor adventure school where young people learn to push their physical boundaries, build resilience, and become effective team players. Before joining the board, all new directors must first experience an Outward-Bound adventure at their base camp in a wilderness region in Northern Ontario.
I had serious reservations about serving on this board. I’d been told their program was like a military boot camp. This did not appeal to me. In high school gym classes, I had little interest or natural ability for gymnastics, tumbling, running, and jumping hurdles. I much preferred more cerebral physical activities such as canoeing and hiking. When I confessed this to Ian Yolles, who interviewed me in connection with joining the board, he said, "Don't worry, Ron, if you enjoy canoeing, you’ll get lots of that on an Outward-Bound trip."
Ian was highly persuasive. I agreed to join a group of—I think it was eight—other prospective board members on a 10-day Outward-Bound adventure. We were accompanied by two of their senior staff acting as our guides. The ages of those on this trip ranged from late 30s to mid-60s. Until this Outward-Bound adventure began, none of us had met.
We were bussed to their home base on Wolfe Lake, about 600 miles north of Toronto. Arriving there, we were divided into two teams of four, with each team having two canoes. During the next 10 days, we would be sleeping together, two to a tent, and preparing meals over an open fire. In our group, we decided to change tent partners each night so we would have the opportunity to learn more about each other.
In telling this story, I don’t want to run the risk of embarrassing the others in this group, so I will not use their real names. My team included Jackie, an attractive blonde woman in her late 30s who was a doctor and natural athlete; Paul, a very fit senior vice-president of a major bank and a born leader; and Lester, a prominent wealth manager who published a highly respected investment newsletter. The oldest member of our team, he was slim, fit, and still running half marathons. I was the least fit, weighing in at about 220 lbs and too busy building my business to incorporate a fitness regimen into my life.
For me, the first day of our Outward-Bound experience was a humiliating disaster. Before heading off in our canoes, we had to endure a team-building exercise. This involved completing an obstacle course of physically demanding challenges, including rope climbing and climbing over a wall that was about 12 feet high. At my weight and fitness level, getting over this wall seemed impossible. Fortunately, Jackie had been through this before, and she took charge. Under her direction, the entire team cooperated to get me over. I was mortified, knowing I had been a drag on my team on the very first day of our trip.
The first night, after my dismal performance on the obstacle course, I shared a tent with Lester. We talked for hours, sharing our thoughts on life. He also made me feel more comfortable with my dismal performance on the obstacle course, saying, “Don’t worry, we all have our strengths and weaknesses. We can’t all be great at everything, and you did give the rest of us a good laugh when we had to use our combined strength to drag your sorry ass over the last few inches of the wall.”
The next couple of days were great. The weather was good, and I enjoyed the canoeing. At mealtimes, Paul assumed the role of our campfire chef, I cleaned up and did the dishes, while Jackie and Lester put up the tents. After dinner, we sat around the campfire, watching the sun go down and the Milky Way appear in the night sky.
On the fourth day, we faced another physical challenge. Instead of paddling to a new campsite, we stayed at the same one for two days of rock climbing. The first day, we were taught how to climb a rock face. Despite my out-of-shape body, I was pleasantly surprised at my climbing ability and went to bed feeling great.
However, the next day I woke up wheezing from an attack of asthma. It was probably an allergic reaction to some plant near our campsite. Because I have asthma, I always carry my medication, and I took a dose with breakfast. But it is not fast-acting, and when we arrived at the rock face to receive training on rappelling down a steep slope, I was still wheezing and unable to take part. I had to sit by myself while everyone else enjoyed the day. I felt like an outsider. From that point until the last day of the trip, the whole group treated me as frail and needing to be supported by the others. This was humiliating and profoundly embarrassing.
Over the next few days, we faced new physical challenges. The most interesting was being dropped off on a lakeside rock, with each team of four being given one compass but no map. This was an orienteering challenge. Using only the compass, each team had to find its way to the campsite where we were to have dinner and spend the night. We were dropped off at about 10 in the morning and told by our guides they would have dinner ready for us at 6 p.m. The distance we had to travel was about five miles. We looked forward to a pleasant, leisurely day of hiking. We were wrong. There was no path to follow, and at some points, the shrubs and vegetation were so dense that visibility was no more than 10 feet. Twice, we had to get over a 20-foot-wide raging white-water river, and we had to climb over two rocky outcrops that I estimated to be over 300 feet high.
When we realized what we were in for, Lester took charge. He had spent some time in the army about 30 years ago. This was our most challenging adventure, but Lester knew what he was doing. At about 6:10, we suddenly burst out of the bush onto a small beach where we could smell and see the smoke of a fire about 200 meters down the beach. And there it was—our campsite, with amazing smells coming from a huge pot of beef stew warming on the fire. And our tents had already been erected by our guides.
Finally, on the last day, I had my moment of redemption. We woke up to a cold and windy morning. Over breakfast, the wind picked up even more, and whitecaps appeared in the middle of the lake. These conditions posed a serious challenge, as it was the longest paddling day of the entire trip. For safety, the first two canoes decided to follow the shoreline rather than risk paddling down the center of the lake. This decision would more than double their travel distance, but it was the safer choice.
As we were loading our two canoes, I had a sudden inspiration: what if we lashed the remaining two canoes together into a makeshift catamaran? We could fashion a sail from a ground sheet and use paddles as masts. This setup would allow us to safely take the fastest route to our destination. Everyone liked the idea.
Within minutes, we chopped down two small trees and used them, along with tent ropes, to lash the canoes together at both ends. We tied in two paddles to create a mast and secured a ground sheet as a sail. This took less than 20 minutes. We set off, and our improvised catamaran glided down the lake like a luxury yacht. Instead of paddling hard, we sat back and let the wind do the work of propelling us down the center of the lake. Meanwhile, we enjoyed an onboard lunch and shared a few laughs. We arrived at base camp a full four hours ahead of the shoreline group.
So, what did I learn from this adventure? First, it’s okay to be the weakest link on a team as long as you contribute where you can. Second, a little ingenuity can sometimes beat brute strength. And finally—most importantly—never underestimate the value of a good laugh, even when you're facing your own personal Everest. This Outward-Bound experience, despite its initial humiliations, ultimately proved to be a valuable lesson in humility, teamwork, and the surprising resilience of the human spirit.
And perhaps the most rewarding lesson of all was discovering the profound pleasure of working collaboratively with a group of highly intelligent, resourceful people who instinctively knew when to step up, take charge, and lead. Together, we not only overcame physical challenges but also forged bonds that made every effort—and every laugh—deeply worthwhile.
If you would like to know more about Outward Bound, I’d highly recommend buying this this newly released book by Wade Davis, author of the Samuel Johnson Prize-winning mountaineering chronicle Into the Silence.
WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT CARRY THE FLAME
"Carry the Flame tells the tale of a remarkable cadre of men and women who embraced the British vision of Outward Bound, only to transform it into something indelibly Canadian—a way of thinking, practice, and being that could only make sense in a country so vast. We could throw England anywhere to the north, and the English would never find it."
“This book is a celebration of life . . . a portrait of an educational enclave that was years ahead of its time by embracing and embodying Kurt Hahn’s broad philosophical notions about what it means to be a complete human being.” Here’s are a few reviews of Carry The Flame.
-James Raffan, explorer, educator, and author of Circling the Midnight Sun, Deep Waters, and Ice Walker
"In this splendid collection of essays and poems, you see campfires and hear the cadence of voices. They come from pioneering wilderness leaders of a life-changing institution talking about going to hard places and doing tough things to find out who they really are. They are practical and poetic, wise and funny. Pull up a spruce bench, lean into the heat of the campfires, and enjoy the conversations."
-Dr. Joe MacInnis, physician, explorer, and author of Deep Leadership
"Kurt Hahn, Outward Bound’s founder, would delight in this compendium! The essays, poems, and photographs within these pages celebrate Outward Bound’s core values, evoking Hahn’s commitments to experiential learning, adventure, compassion, and, above all, community. This book arrives at a time of increasing alienation, loneliness, and disconnection among the young and old alike. The essays within paint an alternative path, a utopian striving that can help us rebuild the bonds that make us fully human."
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