What Is Your Preferred Classroom Setting?

Why Outdoor Skills Are Best Learned Outdoors

Imagine signing up for a wilderness survival course, showing up on the first day, and spending the next eight hours sitting in a classroom watching PowerPoint presentations about building fires, constructing shelters, and navigating through the woods. By the end of the day, you might know what a survival shelter looks like, but you've never actually built one. You've watched someone start a fire, but you've never struck a ferro rod. You've learned what a topographic map is, but you haven't used one to find your way anywhere.

Congratulations! You've learned a bunch of outdoor skills without actually going outdoors. Something seems a little backward about that, doesn't it?

Don't get me wrong. There's a place for traditional classroom instruction. Some subjects benefit from lectures, diagrams, discussions, and detailed explanations before students attempt to apply what they've learned. But when it comes to wilderness survival, bushcraft, navigation, and wilderness medicine, I believe the majority of your training should happen in the environment where you're eventually going to use those skills.

At The Survival University, we have a pretty incredible classroom. It has mountains, trees, rocks, unpredictable weather, and occasionally a few squirrels who seem convinced we're trespassing on their property. Our students get fresh air, real terrain, and opportunities to practice what they're learning instead of spending the entire day looking at pictures of someone else doing it.

And yes, we even have a whiteboard. We're not complete savages.

Two Classrooms, Two Very Different Experiences

Take a look at this photograph of our wilderness medical instructor, Mark DeJong. He's standing in front of a whiteboard in the middle of our mountain training area, surrounded by the very environment where his students may someday need to use the skills he's teaching.

He's still explaining concepts, answering questions, and providing structured instruction. The difference is that when it's time to put those concepts into practice, we don't have to imagine being outdoors. We're already there.

Now take a look at the second photograph. There's nothing necessarily wrong with this classroom. It's got tables, chairs, a whiteboard, and probably a thermostat keeping everyone at a comfortable temperature. It's a perfectly reasonable environment for teaching plenty of subjects.

But which classroom would you rather be sitting in if you were learning how to respond to an emergency miles from the nearest road? Which one would better prepare you to navigate unfamiliar terrain, recognize environmental hazards, or build a shelter when the temperature starts dropping?

I know which one I'd choose. Then again, I'm also the guy who voluntarily spends a significant portion of his life sleeping in the dirt, so perhaps I'm a little biased.

Knowing How Something Works Isn't the Same as Being Able to Do It

One of the biggest differences between classroom learning and field training is discovering what happens when you actually try to apply what you've learned.

Building a survival fire is a perfect example. I can explain the fire triangle, demonstrate different ignition methods, and show you photographs of proper tinder preparation. You might understand every word I'm saying and feel pretty confident about your new fire-building knowledge.

Then I hand you a ferro rod, tell you to gather your own materials, and ask you to build a sustainable fire. Suddenly, things get interesting. Maybe your tinder is damp, your wood is too large, or you discover that striking a ferro rod effectively takes a little more practice than you expected.

Now add a cold wind, fading daylight, and fingers that don't want to cooperate. That nice little demonstration you watched earlier becomes a very different experience.

This is where actual learning takes place. You make mistakes, figure out what went wrong, adjust your technique, and try again. And when you finally get that fire going, you understand a whole lot more than you did when you were simply watching someone else do it.

The same applies to shelter construction, navigation, knot tying, primitive skills, and practically everything else we teach. Understanding the concept is important, but developing the ability to perform the skill is what makes that knowledge useful.

The Wilderness Doesn't Care How Well You Did on the Written Test

Let's say you've just completed an indoor wilderness medical course. You know how to assess a patient, recognize signs of hypothermia, and properly apply a splint. You passed the written exam, practiced with a partner on the classroom floor, and earned your certification.

That's a good start. But now imagine your hiking partner slips on a rocky trail and injures their leg. They're sitting on uneven ground, the wind is picking up, and you're several miles from the trailhead. Your patient is uncomfortable, you're trying to keep them warm, and you're realizing that moving someone with an injured leg through the mountains is considerably more complicated than sliding them across a smooth classroom floor.

Where's that nice padded examination table when you need it?

This is why I place so much value on field-based wilderness medical training. Students need opportunities to assess patients on uneven terrain, improvise with available equipment, work in changing conditions, and make decisions when the situation doesn't unfold exactly as expected.

Those challenges introduce considerations that are difficult to reproduce in a conventional classroom. How do you protect your patient from the cold ground? What happens when the equipment you expected to have isn't available? How will you communicate with the rest of your group, and how are you going to get that injured person out of there?

You can discuss those questions indoors, and you absolutely should. But there's a tremendous difference between discussing an improvised evacuation and actually trying to move someone safely over rough terrain.

Weather, Terrain, and Discomfort Are Part of the Education

Colorado has a wonderful habit of reminding us that the weather forecast is more of a suggestion than a guarantee. You can start your training day under beautiful blue skies and find yourself reaching for a rain jacket a couple of hours later. Temperatures change, winds pick up, and conditions don't always cooperate with your lesson plan.

I actually consider that part of the value of training outdoors, provided we're managing those conditions safely.

Learning how to keep yourself comfortable, recognize exposure problems, protect equipment, and adjust your plans are important skills. It's one thing to tell someone that cotton clothing performs poorly when wet. It's another thing to experience a cold afternoon and recognize why proper layering and moisture management are so important.

Even something as simple as walking across uneven ground teaches lessons about footwear, balance, fatigue, and paying attention to your surroundings. Those are considerations you don't encounter while sitting at a desk.

Of course, there's a difference between productive discomfort and putting students in unnecessary danger. Good instructors know when to challenge students, when to modify an exercise, and when conditions require a different plan. The goal is to develop skills and confidence, not see how miserable we can make everyone.

Although I'll admit, watching someone spend twenty minutes trying to get a fire started because they insisted their tinder was dry can be pretty entertaining.

Training Outdoors Builds Better Decision-Making

The wilderness rarely presents problems one at a time. You might be dealing with fading daylight, an unexpected change in weather, limited water, or a member of your group who isn't feeling well. Each problem affects the others, and suddenly the decision that looked simple an hour ago isn't nearly so obvious.

That's another reason I prefer field-based training. Students learn to recognize problems while they're developing rather than waiting until everything has gone sideways.

During a land navigation exercise, for example, a student may realize they're moving more slowly than expected. Now they have to consider distance, terrain, daylight, and whether continuing along the original route is still the best decision. The compass is only one part of the equation.

The same thinking applies to survival and wilderness medicine. Knowing the technical skill is important, but recognizing when, why, and how to use it is equally important.

I want students asking questions, making decisions, occasionally getting things wrong, and learning from those experiences while an instructor is there to help them understand what happened. That's a far better time to discover a weakness in your skills than when you're alone in the woods with a real emergency developing.

Does That Mean Traditional Classrooms Are Useless?

Absolutely not. There are subjects where sitting down and concentrating on detailed information is exactly what you need to do.

Anatomy and physiology, medical assessment principles, navigation theory, and certain technical procedures all benefit from structured instruction. A whiteboard, diagrams, training materials, and a knowledgeable instructor can make complicated subjects considerably easier to understand.

The important thing is what happens next.

At The Survival University, our instructors can explain a medical procedure at the whiteboard and then take students directly into the field to practice it. We can discuss navigation techniques before heading into the trees with a map and compass. We can demonstrate a shelter design and then have students build one using the materials and conditions available.

It's not a choice between understanding the theory and developing practical skills. You need both. I just happen to believe that if the skills are intended for use outdoors, a significant portion of the learning should happen outdoors too.

Wilderness First Aid and Wilderness First Responder Training

Our Wilderness First Aid and Wilderness First Responder courses are excellent examples of this approach.

Wilderness First Aid provides foundational medical training for outdoor emergencies, while Wilderness First Responder offers more extensive instruction for guides, outdoor educators, search and rescue personnel, and others who may be responsible for managing emergencies in remote environments.

Students learn about patient assessment, injuries, environmental emergencies, and making decisions when professional medical help may be hours away. Practical exercises allow them to apply that knowledge in conditions more representative of the situations they could encounter in the backcountry.

And while wilderness medicine was the inspiration for this article, the same philosophy runs through our other programs. Whether you're learning wilderness survival, bushcraft, or land navigation, we're going to get you outside and give you opportunities to actually practice what you're learning.

You can explore our upcoming training opportunities on the TSU Course Calendar.

So, What's Your Preferred Classroom Setting?

I'm not suggesting that every college classroom should be moved into the woods. I'm pretty sure students studying accounting would eventually get tired of chasing spreadsheets across the forest every time the wind picked up.

But if you're learning skills intended to keep you safe, capable, and confident in the outdoors, shouldn't you spend a good portion of that training actually being outdoors?

I'd rather have a student discover that their shelter leaks during a supervised exercise than during an unexpected night in the mountains. I'd rather have them struggle with a compass while an instructor can help than realize they're lost when the sun is going down. And I'd much rather have them practice handling medical emergencies in challenging conditions before they're responsible for a real patient.

That's what hands-on outdoor education is about. Learn the principles, practice the skills, make some mistakes, ask questions, and develop the confidence that comes from actually doing the work.

Now take another look at those two classroom photographs and tell me which one you'd rather spend your next training day in.

I know where I'll be. Hopefully the squirrels leave my whiteboard alone.

If you have to sit through a mandatory lecture for your WFR Certification, which of these two pictures looks more appealing to you? If stuffy, badly lit, classroom settings are not for you and you prefer to breath in fresh mountain air while you get your learn on, check out our WFA, WFR and CPR certification classes in July 2019. Limited spots available so sign up now before its too late!

Are you serious about expanding your depth of medical knowledge and improvised medical care? Looking to improve your skills in dealing with medical issues in backcountry environments? Ever consider becoming a Wilderness First Responder (WFR)? Our challenging seven-day WFR program, referred to as the “Gold Standard” in wilderness medical care, is primarily intended for non-medical professionals who are traveling in the backcountry and serving as wilderness guides, outdoor instructors, outdoor educators, Search and Rescue (SAR) team members, ski patrol, medical personnel for adventure races/events, missionaries, expedition medical team members, etc. A WFR is responsible for preventing and identifying medical problems, initiating reasonable and appropriate field management of medical issues, and identifying when and how to safely evacuate patients presenting with potentially life-threatening problems.

Our curriculum includes:

Day and night practical exercises are a critical learning tool for this material. This program is physical in nature, and a reasonable level of fitness is expected of all participants. The American Safety and Health Institute serves as the certifying agency for our WFR program.  Certification is valid for two years. Adult, child and infant CPR and AED use is included as part of this program.