A Trek to Wellness

21 Days in the Wild for Troubled Teens
Dan and Hilary Saracino had watched anxiously as their "delightful" young son Mario - whom they called "Mr. Sunshine" - grew into a street-hardened, macho teenager with drug and alcohol problems.
Despite being therapists themselves, the Saracinos felt helpless when it came to helping their 17-year-old son clean up his act, get along with his classmates, and chip away at the coat of anger that seemed to consume him.
"We had reached a point where we didn't feel like we could do anything for him," said Hilary. "He was out of control and he needed help - and we couldn't give it to him."
Fearful and desperate, Mario's parents turned to "outdoor behavioral health" in a last-ditch effort to turn their child around. Very early one morning last August, he was taken from his bed and escorted to the Catherine Freer Wilderness Trek Program in Albany, Ore.
"When I looked at him walking out the door, I was seeing him being busted, being arrested," said Hilary. "And then there was another side of me that said: 'No, these are angels that are taking him to figure this out, to get me my son back.'"
Mario was forced to embark on a 21-day wilderness therapy program, along with five other troubled teens and four counselors, an experience that would be the first step in helping him get clean, back on his feet, and communicating with his family.
After weeks of long hikes, silence, sweat and therapy, Melissa appeared to show signs of improvement. "I can't bulls--t out here," she says. "I'm able to bulls--t my therapist back at home."
Mario's anger, however, remained on full display throughout the trip. Rather than letting his guard down and confronting his feelings, he told tales of his drug dealing in an attempt to impress his peers.
Then, as the trek drew to a close, the staff dropped a bomb on him: His parents wanted him placed in a residential treatment program. Only then did he express the feelings that fuel his anger.
"I don't like being thrown into a path and being told 'This is what you have to do!'" he said. "I should be able to see what I want to be able to see out of life. If that means that I'm a heroin addict and I die, that's what I see."
For Mario, it is a control issue: "I see what happened to people whose parents take control of their lives. They end up doing exactly what they want them to do the rest of their lives."
The Journey Ahead
The climax of the three-week journey for most participants is the "solo" - three days and three nights of complete isolation and intense introspection, a chance for them to understand that they are truly alone with their problems, and that only they can help themselves.
After 42 miles of traversing canyons, ridges, rivers and hills, there were changes in most of the kids - they began to address the underlying issues that brought them to this crossroads in their lives.
Melissa, for example, looked at the true costs of her drug use, as well as the reasons she started using them in the first place.
It's only the beginning of a much longer journey. She decided to live in a transitional home near Portland, Ore. before moving back with her mother in San Diego.
After an additional 8-day trek, even Mario's demeanor had softened.
"I just want to apologize for the disrespect, pain, lies and suffering that I put on you," he told his mother. "Sorry I haven't shown you the love and care you deserve as a loving and caring mother… I hope you accept my apology so we can start a more stronger and honest relationship."
For the first time in a long time, Mario and his parents began to communicate.
But the wilderness program is not a miracle cure, says program director Paul Smith: "Most of these things develop over time and they take time to resolve. It's not going to be instant."
As his trek came to an end, Mario said, "I feel like I'm beginning to climb out of a hole."