Natural treatment
Men in recovery from drug and alcohol addiction say program that takes them out of the city and into the wilderness plays a key role in their journey to sobriety
Looking out on Cheakamus Lake, Tom Sauls recalls how he would often stand at Crab Park in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside and gaze north at the mountains, dreaming of someday escaping homelessness and addiction to find refuge in the wilderness.
Sauls, 57, would take swigs of strong beer beneath the stars and picture himself climbing the green hills to look down upon the glimmering city. In his mind, Burrard Inlet would finally separate him from the shouting and sirens that woke him as he slept on benches, in buses or beneath bridges.
“I knew in myself that’s where I’d like to be," Sauls said. "But it was impossible."
After Sauls’ parents were murdered when he was a toddler, he was adopted by a loving family in Kamloops. But when, as a teenager, he learned the truth about his biological parents’ fate, the trauma sent him into despair and substance abuse that lasted for decades.
Unable to hold a job or apartment, Sauls became homeless and addicted, smoking crack when the liquor stores closed for the night and the beer ran out.
But his path shifted on Jan. 5, 2015, when he sought shelter at the Union Gospel Mission on East Hastings Street after losing his sleeping bag. There, he entered the mission’s sixmonth, 12-step alcohol and drug recovery program.
Sauls also credits the mission’s wilderness program, called Expeditions, with playing a major role in his recovery.
On a recent trip to Cheakamus Lake — with his new sleeping bag and a dog-eared copy of The Life Recovery Bible he totes wherever he goes — Sauls described his first Expeditions trip to Keats Island, where he dove into Howe Sound.
He remembered floating in the water and feeling cleansed, then praying.
“I knew that I was on the right path to my recovery," he said.
After recently losing friends to the ongoing fentanyl crisis, Sauls wants to share his story of recovery with media in the hope that others might benefit from hearing about his experience.
Expeditions has led hundreds of former substance users into the wilderness since its inception in the spring of 2013.
Back then, Jason van Dyk, a graphic designer at Union Gospel Mission, pitched an approach to recovery that would take men outdoors to connect with nature, each other and a higher power.
Van Dyk worked with addictions counsellor Jack Wagner and other staff to develop the Expeditions program for male participants and graduates of the mission’s recovery program.
Expeditions takes as many as a dozen men canoeing and backpacking for up to 10 days, twice a year, and also offers several overnight camping excursions and hikes. Participants have tackled the West Coast Trail, Black Tusk and Bowron Lake. As Expeditions co-ordinator, van Dyk regularly watches men who live in the Downtown Eastside leave their familiar surroundings and find a sense of belonging in the outdoors.
He described the instant effect on a person who hadn’t left his impoverished neighbourhood for years.
“It was almost like a veil was lifted,” said van Dyk. “Being out in a place like this — it allows the soul to breathe.”
The men go fishing, canoeing, swimming, and bushwhacking. Working together, they accomplish things that would have seemed impossible months earlier.
“There are parallels there to recovery,” van Dyk said. “When you’re trying to climb this big mountain and you’re not sure if you can make it, that’s where community comes in.”
Wilderness programs that support addiction treatment and recovery — also run by B.C. organizations such as Last Door, Together We Can and Solid Ground — are highly effective, said Marshall Smith, senior adviser for recovery initiatives at the B.C. Centre on Substance Use.
“These programs allow people to remove themselves from networks of drug-using friends and from the chaos that is often associated with many urban programs, and allow them to get into nature and deepen their connection with their peers,” said Smith.
He cited a new Canadian Centre on Substance Use survey, Life in Recovery from Addiction in Canada, which found that more than twothirds of the 855 respondents had used a relationship with the land or natural environment as a support in their recovery. As well, more than 96 per cent said they used relationships with friends as a recovery support, and 85 per cent said they used regular exercise programs.
“The therapeutic value of nature, I think, probably can be stated without evidence,” Smith said.
“It’s inspirational and holistic and healing for everybody, and so it would stand to reason that those things would be very helpful to people who are recovering from addiction, as well.”
Jonas Granander, 52, another seasoned Expeditions participant, joined Sauls on the recent outing to Cheakamus Lake. The two men set up a campsite, caught a trout for breakfast and shared stories of their recoveries.
Granander was hired in his 20s as a cruise-ship photographer, a gig that immersed him in a heavy party environment in which he brushed elbows with celebrities and drank every day.
But when he was in his early 30s, his employer surprised him with a breathalyzer test during a stop in Alaska. He was fired and sent packing back to North Vancouver on his own dime. In an instant, his career was over. He slipped into a deep depression and drank to cope with the loss of his job.
Granander’s family staged an intervention and he sought treatment. “But I didn’t think I had a drinking problem,” he said.
He lost his driver’s licence for a DUI, couldn’t hold a job, and spent every cent he made on alcohol.
He wound up in a single-room occupancy hotel next door to the Union Gospel Mission’s Downtown Eastside location.
When Granander learned he had cirrhosis of the liver, he decided to quit drinking. He finally put down the bottle on Valentine’s Day 2014 as a gift to his mother. Two days later, he had a withdrawal seizure, crawled over to the mission, and was rushed to St. Paul’s Hospital.
Union Gospel Mission staff then brought him into their recovery program. Two months in, Granander was invited to join Expeditions.
“That’s where I found this beautiful majesty of what God created, that brought me back to my younger days of when I was hiking with my family in the North Shore Mountains,” he said. “It’s (had) a huge impact on my recovery.”
He has built strong relationships with fellow Expeditions participants and has learned to turn to counsellors in times of need. He said the “doom and gloom” of his alcoholism has been replaced by laughter with his peers around the campfire.
Addictions counsellor Wagner, who began working with at-risk youth as a teen and became a pastor in his 20s, said nature alone is not a cure for addiction, but “being in nature helps give resources to move on with life that are so important.”
If issues arise during an Expeditions outing, campers must work together to find a solution, said Wagner. Men have come close to trading blows over snoring, pitching tents or paddling canoes, but then worked together to find peace.
“Recovery is only possible if you live in a community,” Wagner said. “That’s how we deal with issues. That’s how we heal, how we grow.”
Men who have never gone camping without a six-pack before discover how the tranquillity that nature offers can help them meditate and reflect on the roots of their addiction, said Wagner.
“The natural experience is one that just helps people relax and discover there’s more to the world than they could have imagined,” he said.
Sauls and Granander, in their sobriety, believe they are proof of nature’s power in recovery.
Sauls has reconciled with his wife and rebuilt relationships that eroded during his drinking days. He is working in landscaping and plans to start his own company. Granander is a star student in Vancouver Community College’s hospitality management program and will soon seek a new job in the industry he loved.
Both are proud of their ongoing efforts to mentor peers in recovery, and said they hope others who struggle with addiction will consider joining them in the wilderness.
“It’s just a whole different feeling than having to put up with all the noise of the city, and the smoke and smells and screaming and yelling,” said Sauls.