Meet Martha: why I left project management to start a forest camp
My name is Martha Tejeda Lopez. I'm the founder and lead instructor at Camp Howl, and before I spent my mornings hiking forest trails with twelve 5-year-olds, I spent them in conference rooms managing project timelines at Canadian Pacific Railway.
The career change sounds dramatic. It wasn't. It was the most logical decision I've ever made.
The corporate years
I started my career in project management at SAP in Mexico — one of the biggest enterprise software companies in the world. Budgets, timelines, stakeholder management, cross-functional coordination. I learned how to plan, how to execute, and how to keep twenty people aligned on a deadline.
I brought those skills to Canada when I moved to Vancouver, working in project management at CP Rail. Railroads don't tolerate sloppiness — safety protocols are non-negotiable, timelines are measured in minutes, and a mistake doesn't get a "let's circle back." It either works or it doesn't.
I'm grateful for those years. They taught me how to run an operation. But every evening I'd come home and feel like I was managing things that didn't matter to me in the way I needed them to.
The turn toward children
I'd always loved working with kids. When I made the decision to shift careers, I started where it made sense: I got my Early Childhood Education Assistant (ECEA) certification through the BC ECE Registry, which gave me formal training in child development, age-appropriate programming, and health and safety for young children.
I worked at a licensed daycare in Coquitlam — learning the daily rhythms of childcare, the patience it requires, the way a 3-year-old needs something completely different from a 7-year-old. I learned how to build trust with parents who are handing you their most important person in the world.
And then I found outdoor education.
Stanley Park changed everything
I joined Little Paws Outdoors — a nature-based children's program that operates in Stanley Park. And for the first time in my career, everything clicked.
I was outside. I was with kids. I was using every skill I'd ever learned — the project management discipline from CP Rail, the stakeholder communication from SAP, the child development knowledge from my ECEA training — and pointing it all at something that actually mattered to me: helping children fall in love with the forest.
I learned Stanley Park's trails the way you learn a neighbourhood you live in. I know which washrooms open at 8:30 and which don't open until 9. I know where the coyotes tend to appear in early morning. I know which trail section gets muddy after rain and which stays dry. I know the spot near the Aquarium where kids always find banana slugs.
But I also saw things I wanted to do differently.
Why Camp Howl
The programs I worked in served a wide age range — sometimes 2-year-olds and 8-year-olds in the same group. A 2-year-old needs to nap and be carried. An 8-year-old wants to run ahead and explore. Combining them means neither gets the experience they deserve.
I wanted tighter age bands. I wanted groups small enough that I could know every child — not just their name, but their fears, their favourite bug, whether they're having a hard morning. I wanted to be the one running the program, not following someone else's plan.
Camp Howl is that vision. Ages 5–8 only. Twelve kids maximum. A 1:6 staff-to-child ratio. And me — the person who designed the program, mapped the route, and wrote the emergency plan — on the ground with the children every single day.
What the project manager in me brings
People sometimes ask what project management has to do with running a kids' camp. Everything.
A children's outdoor program in a public park is a project with strict safety requirements, regulatory compliance, weather variables, stakeholder communication (parents are stakeholders), scheduling, budgeting, and zero tolerance for error. The difference between a good camp and a great one is the operational discipline behind the scenes.
I file first aid certs the same way I filed safety protocols at CP Rail. I write emergency plans the same way I wrote project risk assessments at SAP. I run headcounts every 15 minutes because I know what it means to have a system that doesn't rely on memory.
The kids don't see any of that. They see a forest, a friend, and an adult who knows their name. That's exactly how it should be.
What "let them howl" means
Camp Howl's tagline is "let them howl." It means: let children be loud, be messy, be wild, be themselves. Let them run when they want to run. Let them sit in the mud when they want to sit in the mud. Let them spend half an hour watching ants when ants are the most interesting thing in the world.
Our job is to keep them safe and get out of the way. The forest does the teaching.
I left project management to build this. I've never been more certain of anything.
Camp Howl is a nature-based outdoor day camp in Stanley Park, Vancouver. Ages 5–8, 12 kids max, 1:6 staff ratio. Register your interest →