Any of you going on Outward Bound for spring break this year? Really? Good. I've had some adventures with them myself. In fact my adventures really started there, and became the catalyst for many good things in my life. I may get a bit deep here and there, but don't hang up. It's a worthwhile story.

Let's get started. . .

Once upon a time I was painfully, ridiculously shy and naive in the way that tends to make you a target for the mean-spirited types lurking about. Looking back, I can see that the reality of growing up, growing older and maturing can be easily lost. Lost in cliche. Lost in pop psycho-babble. Lost waiting for perfect moments that never come. It was sure lost on me. I took the "all good things come to those who wait" approach and waited. And waited. And wasted more years than I care to admit.

Eventually the 18 year old I was came to realize that the man that I envisioned becoming wasn't going to just happen. No worthwhile future was going to come drifting to me on a gentle breeze of passing years like some learner's permit for life. I realized I had lots of catching up to do, and was overwhelmed by a sudden burning desire to "grow up." I had heard about Outward Bound and thought it might be a good start on that road. It turned out to be one of the better guesses I've ever made.

What is Outward Bound? To describe it as a wilderness survival school would be an extreme oversimplification but it'll do as a start. The settings are chosen as a tool; a tool for shaking loose and challenging your preconceived notions about the world, about other people, and about yourself. I chose the Hurricane Island Outward Bound School in Penobscot Bay, off the coast of Maine. The same school runs Penn State's spring break program.

Hurricane Island: granite cliffs, pine trees, cool instructors, a few small buildings and many more tents, all surrounded by lots of really, really cold ocean. On that ocean you'll find the standard pulling boat. Just imagine the longboats that Captain Ahab used to chase down Moby Dick and add two ketch-rigged sails (woooooo -- nautical stuff!) and you've got the idea. Welcome to Outward Bound.

The most obvious use of the wilderness setting is to separate you from the familiar. Wave goodbye to the things you depend on like friends, family, television, alcohol, wristwatches, mirrors, a sturdy roof and a warm bed. What remains will be yourself, and you may be less than you expected -- at first anyway. Meet the ten strangers you'll be spending the course with, all in the same situation, and you're ready to go.

The standard course is about 26 days long. Each begins with the dawn and the morning "run and dip." That's a three and a half mile run and a jump in an ocean that rarely gets over 45 degrees -- I never got used to that part. Then breakfast and the weather report. And then the morning meeting.

I loved morning meetings. The whole island community gathered on a huge slab of rock, reading pertinent quotations and offering thoughts about the things we were experiencing each day -- things like self-reliance, challenge, nature, education and leadership.

Anyone could speak their minds and all listened. It was a pretty heady experience for a shy kid; my first experience sharing my thoughts in a public forum, and with the motivating power of ideas. A little bit of serenity in the foggy early mornings of coastal Maine. We needed that inspiration to handle what was to come during the day.

Ahh those Outward Bound days . . . Jeee-zus some were tough. Thirteen days on expedition in the pulling boats sailing (or rowing) up and down the coast. Three days climbing the sheer cliffs left in the old granite quarry. Two days on the most frustrating high-altitude obstacle course you can find outside of Marine boot camp. And three days on solo, marooned alone on individual small islands with nothing but a light shelter and the solitude of your own thoughts. Funny, but for many, solo was the toughest part.

The pace and the challenges at Outward Bound came as a shock at first but I settled in and did well. I came to realize that most of the limits that imprison us are only in our own heads. A month away from the warm, cushioned, constraining safeguards that we think of as the "real world" can change your perspective enormously. And take it from me, one good case of hypothermia is all you need to be convinced of your own mortality.

I learned a lot. And like I hoped, I grew up a lot, and matured some, but to my surprise, I actually came home younger. Yeah, younger. A favorite quotation picked out for me by one of my instructors explains that better than I can:

"Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of imagination, a vigour of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.

"Youth means the predominance of courage over timidity, of adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of sixty more than a boy of twenty. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals."

"Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear and dispair -- these bow the heart and turn the spirit to dust. You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hopes, as old as your dispair."

So to those of you considering an Outward Bound course all I want say is GO! Do it. Do it. Do it. And if you're already going on the short course during spring break remember: You don't have long out there, and there is a lot more to be gained from an Outward Bound course than two PE credits. Look for it, learn, grow and, if you're lucky, come back younger than when you left.