When the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded on Jan. 28, 1986, I first learned of the tragedy from a teacher in a building named after an astronaut. I was too young to fully grasp what had happened as I sat in the second-grade classroom at Alan B. Shepard Elementary School in Bourbonnais, Ill. But I was familiar with rockets – after all, that was the school’s mascot.
Years passed before I began to understand the extent of the tragedy. Seven crewmembers died, including a teacher. Shuttles were grounded for 32 months. NASA was in crisis mode. The program finally continued on Sept. 29, 1988, when Space Shuttle Discovery lifted off into space.
We are a nation of explorers and we admire those who take risks to reach unimaginable heights and depths. So it was with some trepidation that I watched NASA retire its space shuttle program in 2011. But the private sector, such as Elon Musk’s SpaceX, has stepped in to fill the void. To be sure, we’re still exploring.
This week, Tristan Scott writes about a Whitefish-based company that has turned to the depths of the sea to find the remnants of what propelled mankind toward the stars. SL Hydrospheric joined Bezos Expeditions (led by Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos) to help recover the engines that sent men to the moon. For its effort, the team was recently honored with the Citation of Merit from the Explorers Club, a 110-year-old “international multidisciplinary professional society dedicated to the advancement of field research and the ideal that it is vital to preserve the instinct to explore.”
The distinction carries a lot of clout, as renowned astrophysicist Stephen Hawking spoke at the club’s annual dinner last week. Musk, who eventually wants to offer trips to Mars, was also honored.
On a smaller scale, we’re lucky to live in an area that still captures the spirit of exploration. Instead of blasting off into space, or reaching miles below the surface of the ocean, we explore a unique landscape, much of it still protected and off the beaten path.
Last summer, some friends led me from Hidden Lake past Floral Park to Sperry Glacier in Glacier National Park. The hike, for me anyway, was brutal. But the payoff was worth the pain. Below Sperry, turquoise Glacier melt-ponds contrasted the jagged mountain terrain. Walking along the rocks I exclaimed, “It feels like we’re on another planet.”
That is, however, likely the closest I will ever get to “another planet” and it was just a short trip out my front door in a place where people travel thousands of miles to see. I often forget how unique an area we live, a place where hunters, anglers, skiers, mountain bikers and hikers all explore for different reasons.
Each year, I compile a list of areas in Northwest Montana that I’d like to visit for the first time, and each year I perhaps check off 25 percent of that list. Yes, those travels are more modest and far less risky than that of an astronaut or deep-sea explorer, but the attraction to see something new, to learn, and to push personal limits at least shares the same roots.
As an adolescent, I would walk through the woods adjacent to my family’s campsite carrying sticks like make-believe gear and conquering various fictional adversaries. It got to the point where my dad referred to me as “Kelbo” – a younger, much more innocent, version of Rambo.
The name stuck around and so did that itch that so many of us share to seek out new adventures. We applaud those, like SL Hydrospheric, who go further than many of us could ever imagine, and at once map out another exploration in our own backyard.