!! In the quiet hours of the bootcamp grind, I found myself: Esteban's Bootcamp Experience

B.E.L. Post # 152

After the morning circle, when intentions for the day had been spoken into the cool air, we made our way toward the quiet bones of the shower shack. It had been still for some time—waiting, in that patient way that structures do. Today, we answered that call.

Piece by piece, we brought it back into rhythm. The foot pumps were set once more beneath the sinks, ready to draw water with the simple press of a step. The shower faucets returned to their place, like old instruments being tuned again. Seth wove the lifelines together—hoses stretching from the hydrant to the water heater and into the shack—until the whole system felt connected, like veins carrying warmth and flow back into a resting body.

With water moving again, we turned our attention to care and renewal. Roy and the Rav4 stood by, dusted with the stories of many miles. Seth moved through the interiors with the steady hum of the vacuum, Melissa brought clarity back to the inside glass, and I worked along the outer surfaces, clearing away the film of the road. When the windows were clean, I laid down Rain-X across the windshield, mirrors, and glass—a subtle layer of protection, like a blessing against the coming rains.

Before the midday pause, I returned to the cat house roof. The wood, already kissed once by oil, drank in its second coat of linseed. You could almost feel it—like the structure exhaling, settling deeper into its purpose, more ready now to meet sun, wind, and weather.

After lunch, we climbed toward the Abbey. There, Stephen and I worked with the horizontal pieces, setting them carefully, aligning them so they could carry both weight and intention. Once they were in place, I began filling them in, one piece at a time, falling into that quiet rhythm where the hands know what to do and time softens around the work.

As the day began to lean toward its close, I moved into the simple practice of cut-and-drop mulch. Blade to stem, stem to soil—returning what once grew back to the earth that will receive it again. A small cycle, repeated endlessly, quietly building fertility beneath our feet.

And with that, the day came to rest—threads of water, wood, effort, and soil all woven together, each task a small offering to the larger living system we’re tending.

B.E.L. Post # 153

This morning’s circle felt different… like the land itself was holding its breath with us.

Stephen shared that he’s stepping down from the High Commander role, and the words landed softly but deep. You could feel it move through the group — not loud, not chaotic… just a quiet wave of emotion. There was sadness there, of course… but also something steady underneath it. A knowing.

Because truthfully, it feels right.

There’s something deeply permaculture about it — a man returning to his own patch of earth, choosing to tend his own systems, to build slowly, intentionally… to find peace in the rhythm of his own land. I’m genuinely happy for him. Now he gets to shape his own little haven, guided by the seasons instead of the demands of leadership.

And in that same movement, something else opened.

With him stepping back, space is being created… and you can feel it calling the rest of us forward. For us core boots, it’s like the ecosystem just shifted — light reaching new layers. There’s room now to grow, to take on more responsibility, to root deeper into this place. Not all at once, not forced… just naturally, like young trees finally getting their share of sun. A quiet passing of the torch.

After the meeting, I wandered over to the solarium and spent some time tidying it up, getting it ready for the new boots arriving soon. It felt like preparing soil before planting — clearing, arranging, making space for what’s about to come in.

From there, I headed to the classroom, loaded up the new cat house onto Roy, and made my way out to Cooper Cabin. I set the new structure in place where the old one had stood — same footprint, fresh start. Then I brought the old one back to basecamp, where it’ll be taken apart this weekend. Nothing wasted… just another cycle of breakdown and reuse.

After lunch, we gathered at the Abbey. Jesse and I worked on rebuilding the junkpole fence next to the Ant Village gate — piece by piece, fitting together what the land has provided. It’s the kind of work that feels simple on the surface, but there’s a rhythm to it… like you’re part of something older than yourself.

We closed out the day as a crew, felling more junkpoles that will soon become pickets for that same gate. Harvesting what’s needed, shaping it, returning it in a new form. The cycle continues.

Change is definitely moving through here right now… but it doesn’t feel like an ending.

It feels like succession.

B.E.L. Post # 154

Woke up this morning to the kittens making sure I didn’t sleep in—little rascals were hungry, so I got them fed and situated. After that, Chapito and I headed out toward the lab and ended up wandering quite a bit, just exploring and taking it all in.

We made our way through the Dances with Pigs meadow, stopped by the Abbey, and checked out a few other spots around the land. Saw a good amount of wildlife too—deer, turkeys, and a bunch of smaller critters moving about. It’s one of those things that never really gets old out here.

Eventually we hiked back to basecamp and took it easy for a couple hours. Later on, I headed back over to the Abbey to gather some woody bits and brought them back to basecamp to get the shop’s fire rack stocked up—figured it’d be good to have that squared away.

After that, I knocked out some laundry and came across a tiny kitten that had wandered off, so I brought it back to its mom. Had a really solid conversation with the new sepper too—always good connecting with new folks coming through.

All in all, a simple, good day.

B.E.L. Post # 155

Another good day under the Montana sky…

The morning kicked off with the usual cleaning blitz — there’s something about working alongside everyone, knocking things out together, that just sets the tone right. It’s simple work, but it builds rhythm… and a bit of pride in the shared spaces we’re all part of.

After that, I wandered over to the Solarium and spent some time tidying up the living quarters a little more. Bit by bit, it’s coming together — small touches, small efforts, but they add up and you can feel the space getting more dialed in.

Later on, I made my way to the shop and started breaking down the old cat house from Cooper Cabin. Gave it a second life by cutting all the good woody pieces down to 16 inches, then hauled them back over to the Solarium. Always feels right keeping materials in use instead of letting them go to waste.

Wrapped up the workday processing some aluminum cans with a fellow sepper — nothing flashy, just steady, honest work.

Ended the day on a good note, meeting a couple of the new boots and two WWOOFers. Fresh energy coming into the lab is always a good thing… new stories, new hands, new perspectives being woven into the place.

All in all, another full day… the kind that leaves you tired in the right way.

B.E.L. Post # 156

Today had one of those steady, satisfying rhythms that make this place feel alive in a deeper way.

We gathered in the library for the morning meeting, and it felt different—in a good way. The boot crew is growing… more hands, more energy, more momentum. You can feel things starting to build.

Afterward, my team was sent out to tend to the young fruit trees. We hauled watering jugs up to the little ones by Raspberry Rock, over at the season extender site, and along a couple of berms. There’s something grounding about that work—quietly making sure those trees get what they need to keep pushing forward. It feels like investing in the future, one jug at a time.

Later in the morning, we joined up with Seth’s crew inside the gated garden by the Fischer Price house and got potatoes in the ground. Good, honest work. Hands in the soil, simple and real.

After lunch, we split into three groups. Shawn, Lorenzo, Melissa, and I teamed up. I had Lorenzo and Melissa going around straightening up the junkpoles—bringing a bit of order back to the edges—while Shawn and I focused on laying pickets at the Ant Village gate. Bit by bit, tightening things up, making it sturdier.

Once that was wrapped up, I turned to a bigger task. I felled a live tree, around 60 feet or so, to harvest some horizontal supports for repairing a couple sections of junkpole fencing. It’s always a moment when a tree comes down… not taken lightly. But knowing it’ll go right back into the land as structure and function makes it feel like part of the cycle, not an end.

By the end of the day, there was that good kind of tired—the kind that says something real got done.

Another solid day out here. 🌱