Founding Story
Early Days
Erik grew up on the California peninsula, where coastal marshes, redwood canopies, and rolling oak savannahs shaped the way he saw the world. At seven, his mom dragged him to his first nature camp kicking and screaming. She told him he'd thank her later. From then on, if he wasn't in school or at practice, he was in the woods exploring, studying, and learning everything the natural world would teach him. The stories his elders shared about living close to the land didn't feel like history to him, they felt like a calling. Growing up on the edge between homeschool and public school gave him an early awareness of what modern life was doing to people's relationship with nature, and a growing sense that something important was being lost.
Seeing Through the Curtain
Erik was fortunate to study alongside mentors rooted in a deep, multigenerational lineage of earth skills. The message he absorbed early on was that technology was the enemy and the survival skills community was the answer. He attended every school and program he could find, and back then there weren't many. As the years went on, courses started feeling repetitive. He began noticing patterns in how content was taught, how organizations operated, and how instructors were treated. The bottlenecks were hard to ignore: poor resource allocation, undervalued educators, disorganized business practices. By the time he reached college, it felt like his career was over before it started. A professor encouraged him to lean into the problem until he found a solution. That stuck with him.
Getting Curious
Erik knew something had to change. He'd been raised in this community and still couldn't see a clear career path, and he couldn't be the only one. The deeper issue was the field's over-romanticized belief that survival skills alone could save the world. That hadn't sat right with him for a while. The movement had been around for decades, so why hadn't the needle moved? Nature is part of us and people need it just as much as it needs people. But reach matters. Sustainability matters. So do the instructors who show up and do the work. The questions started stacking up, and Erik started digging for answers.
Fulfilling a Vision
For a stretch, Erik had to set down his knife, pack away the bow drill, and step off the trail entirely. Survival skills went on hold so he could learn how to build something that would actually last. He spent that time networking with experienced business owners, learning to market at scale, and getting comfortable with the parts of modern business that the skills community tends to ignore. It wasn't glamorous, but it was necessary. After dozens of pivots, Making Tracks became what it is today: a platform, a community, and a collaboration of talented instructors and people who genuinely value their connection to the Earth. Without you, this story doesn't exist. We're grateful you're part of it.