Douglas Toland’s family was one that spent much time outside while he and his siblings were growing up, opting to fish and hike rather than attend social engagements in the community. This secured their reputation as a family that was somewhat outcast from the rest.

“We didn’t really know how to be with people really well,” he admitted.

One of Toland’s earliest friends was a young girl named Nancy, with whom he’d adventurously explore the outdoors with, both children overtaken with a sense of wonder that accompanied being in nature.

His childhood friendship with Nancy became strained when they reached their teenage years, as factors more “important” than spending time outdoors came into play, such as junior-high dances and figuring out what group in school to belong to.

“We started growing up and I didn’t know how to handle that. I so much wanted to be with her in a romantic way, but I didn’t know what to do, so I spent a lot of my time fishing, taking hikes down to a park in New Castle County [Delaware],” said Toland, who is now in his early 70s. “I looked for arrowheads, I ice skated on the pond in the winter. I was so much captivated by the outdoors.”

That captivation remained, even into Toland’s adult years, and these stories from his life outdoors comprise sections of his recently-published memoir, This Life’s Tempestuous Sea.

The opportunities available outside are so rich, he said, from the smells to the earth worms to the trees.

“The disconnect that worries me is that a lot of kids are growing up divorced from that,” he said. “They’re not being interactive with the outdoors, so they don’t have enough appreciation for it to protect it. It’s sort of lost to them. I think I was lucky.”

Later on in life, after he had gone through the Navy, Toland had his first exposure to a region of the world that helped determine the course of his life. In 1967, after saving up enough money, he enrolled in a geology course while at the University of Delaware. His professor, seeing something promising in his young student, asked Toland to come along with him to Alaska for the summer.

“I would have been a fool not to go,” he said.

Situated on Prince of Wales Island at the south end of the Alaskan panhandle is the uniquely-named Green Monster Mountain, a place that immediately captured Toland’s attention.

“It was at one time a fairly glaciated area. Now in some places, it’s just undulating rolling hills,” he said. “Our mountain was one of those that was diminutive. It’s about 3,000 feet high, but it’s still a prominent bump. Sitting to the west is Copper Mountain and in between them is a beautiful lake, Josephine.”

What the mountain is known for is its epidote, a calcium aluminium iron sorosilicate mineral. That’s what Toland was searching for on his first trip and what he continues to search for today.

The place spoke to him, and he returned again in 1969. And again in 1971, 1973, and 1974. It was during that last trip when he began to understand he was trespassing. While no one had put up a fuss about his trips to the mountain in the past, he decided it was time to seek out the person who owned the mineral rights to the mountain. By 1976, he had found the man he was searching for. Toland flew into Seattle, Washington before traveling by bus to Spokane.

“He was pretty upset,” Toland said of his first meeting with Green Monster Mountain’s owner. “I apologized for trespassing for all those years, but I insisted on showing him one [epidote] specimen I had with me. He replied that he’d owned the mountain since 1966 and he’d never seen a specimen that good.”

At the time, a number of people were contacting the owner about purchasing the mountain from him. Unlike them, Toland could offer something else—an environmentalist appreciating the mountain and respecting the land. Yes, he was searching for the crystals, but he could promise that he wasn’t going to damage the mountain in a way that wasn’t promised by the other prospective buyers. It was offered to Toland for $50,000.

“But I didn’t have that kind of money,” he said.

In 1980, Toland partnered with a friend, Tom Hanna, who split the cost with him to purchase Green Monster. They built a small cabin near the mountain that is only accessible via helicopter. Now, years later, Toland still spends much of his time there with his wife, Mary.

As far as what keeps him going back, “I’d like to say it’s the beautiful crystals and the quest for finding them. It’s a challenge to hand chisel and find them. With all of those efforts, it’s such a glorious feeling. It’s a culmination of what everyone has ever dreamed of—finding buried treasure,” he said. Since the purchase, Toland and Hanna have discovered some of the most impressive epidote specimens in the world.

But more than the crystals, it’s the serenity of the outdoors he appreciates most.

“Usually, we’re alone. It’s quiet, it’s beautiful.”

Despite its beauty, the conditions can be extremely harsh. Toland said a third of the time it’s impossible to visit because the weather is so bad.

When the weather is ideal, however, the view is breathtaking.

“Off in the distance you can see mountain ranges all around. I think it’s just a love affair,” he said with a laugh. “Sometimes, when the light is at the right angle, it will be shining on the lake below our work area, it will be like a million diamonds shining back at you on the rippled surface.”

Alaska’s harsh climate is one Toland knows well. He and his family lived there, mostly in Juneau, for about 25 years while he worked in environmental-related careers such as a specialist and safety officer.

He said when most people come to Alaska, they arrive in tour boats and are simply dumped out to explore a constricted area.

“I feel sorry for them,” Toland shared. “They have a limited amount of time. They don’t even really know where to go. There are just these big chain stores that sell to tourists who don’t know that 15 minutes away is a beautiful hike.”

While the outdoors has shaped his life in innumerable ways, it wasn’t until a few years ago that Toland figured out how to share his experiences with others.

He said the idea for writing a book came to him in the fall of 2007, beginning simply with taking notes. Toland’s writing gained momentum after an epiphany of sorts that occurred during a flight from the United States back to Moscow that winter, where he was living at the time.

“We were approaching the airport and I noticed it was a straight glide right in, and we were cruising to a stop and the engine just went off,” he recalled. “We were towed to a side spot and bused us over to the terminal. I learned we had probably run out of fuel. We just barely made it.”

He said the realization that life can end at any moment prompted him to write more intensely. He tied into this realization his opinion about taking risks—taking advantage of the time we have.

“I got the feeling that life is just an assemblage of risks, so if we don’t take them, we won’t accomplish [anything]. So I started taking more,” he said. “Risks are everywhere—those that we take with ourselves and other people. So the book kept getting larger and longer.”

He wrote about his memories as well as more recent happenings, weaving in his family’s history. Toland said his goal was simply to provide a means by which his future family members could get to know him by.

According to the news release about the book, “After a divorce and a stint of poverty, author Douglas Toland shares his Into the Wild-like scenario that left him wandering the western mountains of Alaska to learn, reflect and heal his wounded life.

“Sharing both his story of personal rock bottom, and the climax after achieving his passionate career in environmentalism, Toland reveals the true healing power nature has upon a human. From hiking, fishing and forestry, Toland exemplifies how each experience taught him a little more about life.”

Toland’s book is one he said can be read episodically, as the order of stories isn’t organized in a perfect fashion. The pages that delve into the details of his life are spotted with photos of his past, his expeditions on Green Monster Mountain, as well as the crystal specimens he’s discovered. When speaking about his favorite pieces of the book, he mentioned one section that is often overlooked by readers—Acknowledgments.

“As we get older, those expressions of gratitude become stronger, those friends and family members peel off. That part was important to me,” he said.

In the future, Toland, who now resides in Idaho and visits Green Monster Mountain often, said he plans to continue writing and is contemplating dipping his toe in the fiction pond, although he admitted creating characters out of thin air seems a bit daunting.

As for his start in the outdoors as a child and how it has continued through his life, Toland said, “I could have been home—outdoors I went.”

Images courtesy of Douglas Toland