Ella Paini

I apologize for being a bit late with this post. In my defense, I was busy wrapping up the summer and my internship with the Henry’s Fork Foundation and Friends of Harriman. Part I of this blog was about rejection. Part II is about everything else: small lessons, strange encounters, and the bittersweet feeling of closing a chapter. This internship was educational in unexpected ways, and I learned a few things: Wear sunscreen. Always. Even if it’s freezing in the morning. Always offer an incentive. Don’t let goats on the table. No further explanation. Not Just Work Of course, it wasn’t all data collection and sending emails. I got to do some exploring- Sawtelle Peak, Mesa Falls, swimming at Cliff and Wade Lake, and road-tripping to the Tetons. I even managed to see Lord Huron in concert. And then there were the people. I had Dara (another W&L student) plus plenty of catch-ups with old friends I hadn’t seen in over a year. Being back in Island Park reminded me of how weird and wonderful small-town connections can be. You can leave, but somehow, everyone still knows exactly where you’ve been. This summer wasn’t about dramatic breakthroughs; it was about

This summer, I’ve spent most of my time doing something that sounds easy enough…talking to people on trails. As an intern working with Friends of Harriman State Park and the Henry’s Fork Foundation, my role has been to collect trail use data: how visitors utilize the park, what they appreciate about it, and how it can be improved. In theory, it couldn’t be simpler, just a quick 15-minute survey. In practice? Not so much. We set up camp, including a folding table and a couple of chairs, in various spots around the park. Ranchview typically yields the best results, with the highest number of completed surveys. But more often than not, and less than ideal, you would find us stationed outside the pit toilets. It was a smelly situation and left me wondering why visitors seemed to rush by us more than usual. One morning at Osborne Bridge, it was so cold that Dara and I wrapped ourselves in sleeping bags and sipped coffee, trying to stay alert and enthusiastic for anyone who might partake in our survey. Still, the most challenging part isn’t the weather or the smell. It’s the rejection. I’ve been ignored, brushed off, and hit with