Lauren Glassbrenner
Sunlight filters through the trail’s forested canopy as I struggle to keep up with nine students from Interagency Southeast. We’re on a day hike to Twin Falls in Ollalie State Park.
“This is how I used to train for football,” one student, Jason, says as he marches up the switchback, hands locked on both backpack straps. “My dad would put rocks in my backpack and make me run hills. I was built for this.”
Interagency Southeast is an alternative high school option for students who, according to their website, “need different supports than comprehensive schools offer.” Their program provides personalized learning and goal setting in small class sizes to students in transition homes or experiencing houselessness, students in recovery, and incarcerated students. For seven years, The Mountaineers has partnered with various Interagency locations to introduce youth – who otherwise wouldn’t have access – to climbing, rappelling, team building, and hiking.
Dipping our toes into new adventures
As we continue up the trail, one student, Mario, answers a phone call between loud exhales. His hands are on his knees as he breathes into the phone, “I’m on a hike right now… Yeah, I can do that.” He looks skyward and lets out a sigh. Then smirks and shakes his head while telling us that his little brothers have just called asking if he can go fishing. Mario tells me he fishes all the time with his little brothers. One time, it took them two hours to reel in a halibut. He was so sore, he didn’t go to school the next day.
Kids are the coolest. In high school, I remember wondering why adults choose to work with kids. I couldn’t understand how people found us interesting, rather than exhausting. Now years beyond my high school self, I love working with kids. I see all these unique humans, their strange interests and senses of humor, and I love them all.
“Let your toes feel the water!” Julia, our Day Camps Manager, shouts as we approach the river’s edge.
One student, Will, immediately throws his socks on the rocks, as well as his sweatpants, revealing (to our relief) his shorts underneath. Within seconds he’s knee-deep in the Snoqualmie River.
A particularly athletic student, Javi, nimbly balances across a log and sits in the middle of the river on a sunny rock. He encourages everyone else to join, as if we could all just as effortlessly pull off such a feat.
“Bro, why do I want to do everything this man does?” Javi’s little sister says, smiling while contemplating the icy river.
Spontaneous moments like this never get old.
Students take a rest on nature's chairs.
Cultivating confidence inward and outside
I was lucky to have a dad that instilled in me a love of the outdoors. My dad took care of everything – the planning, the safety, the obstacles. He taught me to pack out my trash and to always carry at least two full water bottles. If I got tired, we’d take a break. If I couldn’t paddle anymore, he’d paddle for me. I loved these trips and the sense of ease I felt not having to worry about the logistics or challenges – I was free to be myself and enjoy whatever wonders nature presented.
In the outdoor scene, we often talk about nature in terms of challenges – like “peak-bagging” or “pushing our limits” – but sometimes, kids don’t need another challenge. Sometimes everyday life offers enough challenge, and nature’s power comes in the reprieve.
I’ve been guilty of being self-critical when choosing a short or easy hike. My mind wanders to what I “should” be doing to “push harder,” but that’s not what hiking is always about. Today, giving these students the opportunity to go outside in a safe environment is what matters. These more restorative moments spent exploring the natural world build comfort, confidence, and a sense of belonging among students who live 45 minutes from mountain passes but have never stepped foot on a trail.
You might think kids wouldn’t feel excluded from nature, but they are still susceptible to internalizing perceptions of who belongs outdoors. Being the one who makes these kids feel like they belong, like they are heard and cared for, is so special, especially during a time when they are still learning how to view themselves in the world. As we hike, I assure the students that I am here to support them, no matter who they are or where they go to school. As we approach the icy waters, I roll up my pants and step into the cold, and the kids feel comfortable enough to follow me in. Showing up for these students, I feel like I am showing up for my younger self.
What a sense of belonging can do
We make it to the waterfall – our intended destination – when I hear Julia’s voice calling from the forest. She is about ten minutes further up the trail with a few students excitedly following behind. “We’ve gone up an extra four switchbacks!” she shouts.
I can barely hear her over the other students, who are enthusiastically yelling, “We want to keep going!” Someone – I can’t tell who – shouts, “We’re overachievers! Look at us go!”
Kids are so funny. They may complain all the way up and down the trail, but I know by the smiles on their faces – and because I am nearly sprinting to keep up with them – that they’re having a blast. I look forward to sprinting behind these kids again in the spring during our first-ever backpacking preparedness trip.
Our partnership with Interagency Academy and the outdoor experiences we facilitate wouldn’t be possible without the support of the Academy’s dedicated teachers. Thank you.
This article originally appeared in our 2026: Issue 1 of Mountaineer magazine. To view the original article in magazine form and read more stories from our publication, visit our magazine archive.
