Glenwood Springs Second Grader Fischer Derkash Becomes National Junior Ranger Finalist

The air in the mountains behind the Derkash home doesn’t just smell of pine; it smells of possibility, a crisp, thin atmosphere that carries the weight of silence broken only by the crunch of boots on gravel and the distant, haunting call of a raven. It’s in this specific, rugged terrain that Fischer Derkash, a second grader at Glenwood Springs Elementary School, spends her afternoons hunting for clues in the dirt. She looks for tiny insects, big animal tracks, the subtle signs of life that most people walking past the same patch of earth would never notice. To her, exploring isn’t just play; it’s solving a mystery, a daily ritual of discovery that has now catapulted her from the quiet foothills of the Roaring Fork Valley to a national stage.

Fischer is one of just twelve finalists in the National Junior Ranger Contest, a voting-based competition that pulled her out of a field of over 150,000 children nationwide. It’s a staggering number, a digital avalanche that seems almost impossible for a kid who spends more time looking at the ground than up at the sky. Yet, here she is, representing Glenwood Springs in a contest that serves as a major fundraiser for the National Wildlife Federation, where the top prize is a $20,000 cash award and an exclusive wildlife experience with conservationist Jeff Corwin.

Her mother, Bridget Derkash, remembers the moment the seed was planted. It wasn’t a grand strategic decision, but a simple gesture of appeasement. Fischer had received a subscription to Ranger Rick Jr. magazine as a Christmas gift from her great-uncle, a man who tracks eagles for a living, nearly two years ago. Fischer was reading the magazine, flipping through the pages, when she turned to her mom and said, “Mom, there’s this junior ranger competition, I want to be in it.” Bridget, who was raised right here in Glenwood Springs and now raises three kids, just said, “Okay. We’ll see.” She filled out the online application, having no idea what she was getting herself into, and then the thing just took off.

There’s a warmth to the way the Derkash family talks about nature, a conversation that has been happening around their dinner table for years. It’s in their genes, Bridget says. From her grandfather, who taught her to dissect frogs and study biology, to the great-uncle who gifted the magazine, the love for the outdoors is inherited, not taught. But it’s also cultivated. Glenwood Springs Elementary School does these amazing “Adventure Wednesdays” where students get outside and learn from their environment in a hands-on way, and Fischer has really learned that not everyone has the same opportunities that she has. Not everybody gets to go camping or out on the river or experience nature in the way she does. It has been a really good learning opportunity for her to continue to learn from the outdoors, and try to share that spark and love she has for exploring with others.

The contest itself is simple in structure but complex in its reach. It’s voting-based, with one free vote allowed to the public per day, though votes can also be purchased with a one-to-one conversion rate, meaning every dollar spent goes directly to the National Wildlife Federation. It’s a way for the community to get involved, to cast a vote for a local girl who sees the world differently. Fischer says her favorite place is still those mountains behind her home, where she has seen bears, bald eagles, deer, elk, coyotes, and even toads. “What I love most about nature is its beauty and how wild and free animals are,” she said.

When you look at the map of Glenwood Springs, you see the river cutting through the valley, you see the highway winding up the mountain, but you don’t see the quiet determination of a second grader who wants everyone to be able to experience and love the outdoors. You don’t see the late nights spent researching, the early mornings spent observing, the way she notices something new every single day. But if you walk the trails behind the houses on the east side of town, if you look closely at the ground near the tree line, you might just see the footprints. You might hear the silence, and in that silence, you’ll hear the future of conservation, small and fierce and deeply rooted in the soil of the Western Slope.