Seattle-based EarthCorps trains young adults from around the world in conservation practices

I met a team of superheroes the other day — right in Ballard.

The environmentally attuned may well call them superheroes, anyway. They wore hard hats and safety vests instead of capes, and dangled from climbing ropes in lieu of spider silk. But they battled their arch enemy (in this case, English ivy — which really is taking over the world) with the undaunted determination and modesty that are defining habits of all true superheroes.

The morning was punctuated by frost, the Olympics a jagged line of teeth swallowing the white-blue sky. Thanking the capricious spring weather gods, I swapped my raincoat for sunscreen and headed out the door to sweat with an EarthCorps crew near the Ballard Locks.

Seattle-based EarthCorps trains young adults in conservation practices (see story, Page 18). The work site, near the railroad bridge just west of the locks, was part of a project spearheaded by Seattle Public Utilities to restore salmon habitat and create a public viewpoint.

The mood at the site was focused. The mission this day was transforming a steep slope, removing invasive plants such as ivy, then later in the week planting native ground covers such as salal. "This is the first time we've tried this pulley system to remove debris," explained Jammie Stauffer, the project manager, busy juggling ropes and tools.

After making sure I was safely outfitted in a hard hat and orange vest, she handed me some garden snips and sent me to the beach below. Grasping two wooden ladders roped together and secured to trees above, I descended 20 feet to the wet sand. Scattered along the 100-foot bank, the six-person crew was elbow deep in ivy.

A place to start

Eager to get moving against the morning chill, I started clipping near Joe, a soft-spoken Loyola University graduate, who found EarthCorps by Googling "conservation volunteers." What do you do with degrees in philosophy and psychology? He smiled, explaining that volunteer work in Sri Lanka and travels through India and Bangladesh catalyzed a lifelong passion for the environment. "Seeing the garbage and pollution in such otherwise gorgeous landscapes made me want to clean up the world, and EarthCorps gave me a place to start," he said.

"I'm trying not to think about what could be living in here," laughed Alessa on my right, expressing my thoughts exactly as we reached into thick hanks of ivy as foreboding as Medusa's hairdo. She grew up in Panama and, though she has dual U.S./Panamanian citizenship, considers it her home. "The majority of people in Panama don't have the resources to worry about environmental issues — things like food, health and money have a much higher priority," she said. "By learning more here and possibly creating a similar program I hope to show people that there is a connection between these needs and the environment."

Our clay bank was a "bottle midden" — with decades of drinking habits revealed in discarded glass (and aluminum) layers. Alessa selected two bottles with striking shapes to add to her growing EarthCorps collection — the rest we bagged to haul out later.

Climbing the bank

As the plants piled up at our feet, other crew members scooped them onto a tarp that was then hooked onto the pulley and heaved uphill to be emptied into a waiting dump-truck. This was hard work, but nothing compared to some of the tasks EarthCorps participants hurdle in their 10-month stints. Allie, a "Northern Exposure" fan from Wisconsin, triumphantly remembered hauling 35-pound buckets of compost uphill to a planting site near Sea-Tac airport, while Jammie recounted helping move 300 320-pound logs for a creek project in Bellevue: "We were strong by the end of last summer!"

By midmorning it was time for the next phase: using rock-climbing harnesses to clear unreachable parts of the steep bank. EarthCorp's office manager/auction coordinator/computer whiz Keith Cousins is also conveniently an experienced rock climber. He deftly taught us how to tie the necessary climbing knots and explained the basics. Then, after checking everyone's knots twice, he helped three of the crew step into harnesses.

"I traded in my business suits and heels for Carhartts," said Gina, one of the first to rope up. She quit a stressful job in a congressional office in Washington, D.C., to hang from hillsides in the name of ivy removal. "People would ask me how the weather was in D.C. and I'd tell them I didn't know because I was inside so much," she said, adding that she plans to use her EarthCorps experiences to meld her love of politics and conservation.

The camaraderie of the group became evident at lunch as we dined alfresco on pavement. "This is my first parking-lot lunch with EarthCorps," laughed Randi Shaw, program coordinator, who enjoys combining physical work with helping people realize their life goals. Because she'd forgotten a fork and was attempting to eat pasta with a borrowed spoon, we discussed how to make a utensil from a carrot, and the time a corps member from China carved on-the-spot chopsticks.

Jammie, who first joined EarthCorps as a crew member in 2000, finds a common thread among corps members: "They see problems and feel it's time to step up and start doing something about it now."

Passing the passion along

After lunch I joined Alessa back on the beach to load the tarps.

Korie, another corps member, hanging from a climbing harness above us, said this would make a good episode of "Extreme Ivy Removal." When asked what she'd be doing next, she flashed an impish grin and said, "This is what I'm doing next." She recently graduated from Fairhaven College in Bellingham with a focus on conservation education, and chooses work that helps "to bridge the gaps between communities to better our natural environment through education in self-sustainable practices."

We were in direct sun now and I took a shade break to talk to Rodrigo, the tall crew leader with a shy smile who works in Brazil for a groundbreaking invasive-species-awareness organization. After crewing with EarthCorps last year, he took this job to learn how to manage people and plans to put his training to use at home, training a new generation of volunteers.

It was past 3 p.m. and after 20-something tarp loads the truck was nearly full of ivy (and, unfortunately, Rodrigo's pocketknife). I said my farewells as the crew continued its companionable heroics.

As you read this, there are six EarthCorps crews at work around Puget Sound, each team member quietly focused on restoring a little patch of ground within reach, today.

Freelance writer Kathryn True of Vashon Island is a regular contributor to Northwest Weekend. Contact her through her Web site: www.kathryntrue.com