My last camping trip ended with a wilted, singed, itchy Curmudgeon. I returned minimally hydrated and nursing a million mosquito bites.
I also had a huge smile that lasted days. Why the smile? Because, nature is good for the soul; even (especially?) when it’s a bitch. I don’t mind privation in nature nearly so much as the bob and weave of avoiding humanity’s shitshow. Barely evolved apes regressing into panicked herd animal morons vexes me. Individual effort builds character. Marching in lockstep formation amid identical thoughtless fools is the absence of character.
Shortly after I got home, I ordered a screen tent. My old method of adapting to mosquitoes was to either delay camping until autumn or look for ecosystems with less bugs. I’ll happily camp amid sidewinders and celebrate the absence of mosquitoes. However, there are only so many paths in life and the world changed to limit some of them.
Now I go camping when the spirit moves me and conditions be damned. With society entangled in it’s own ass, waiting for a more opportune time is unwise. “Do it now or you may not get the chance”. It’s always true. Are we not mortal? But it’s more relevant now than before fear of COVID (not COVID itself!) allowed a handful of people to deliberately infect most of the rest of society with their suicidal intellectual flaws.
At first I was mildly ashamed to admit I wanted a screen tent. Years of backpacking and canoeing trained me to think of a screen tent as hopelessly uncool; something one associates with a boring Dad at a State Park trying to shut up his complaining kids and wife. Alas, practicality outweighs romanticism. I’m not the guy I was 20 years ago and I’m not doing the shit I was doing 20 years ago. I’m not backpacking or canoeing. I have a Dodge that doesn’t care how much I carry. Why not bring every option I can muster? I’m gonna’ be in nature come hell or high water so I might as well gear up for comfort in sub-par conditions. To do less is to devolve to a “fair weather/no bugs” camper.
After overthinking a screen tent purchase like it was the fueling system on an interstellar rocket, I ordered a Gazelle G5 screen tent. I even sprung for the optional 3 pack of side panels. (It was financed, in part, by donations to this blog! And yes, the link to Amazon shoots me a minimal kickback if you use it.)
It arrived promptly via the monopolistic hand of Amazon. The speed of arrival was impressive, as were its origins. It might possibly have been made by Americans, in America, to serve American customers? Could that be? Who knew such things still exist? I’m not sure where Gazelle tents are bred/hatched/sewn but mine have high quality parts and construction.
With the screen tent added to my arsenal, I was anxious for another go at it. I returned to my boat (still on sawhorses all summer!) and prepared my sander. Time for minimal basic maintenance. I’d slap on a coat of paint and within a day or two camp on a beach. From there I’d sail to the horizon!
Almost like I’d been felled by lightning, I got sick. Despite sincere intent I didn’t refurbish a square inch of hull. I tried to shake off the bug but it was no good. I’d fallen into one of those ill defined maladies that strike all humans from time to time.
The clock ticked. A precious weekend passed. I was not completely immobilized but I was not firing on all cylinders.
I’ve been sick in a tent. It sucks. I wouldn’t risk it. Also, I was in no shape at all for the yoga-like stress test of sailing a tiny boat.
During that time I noticed something. Humans have been sick on and off throughout time immemorial but now there is only one possible illness in the human psyche.
“Do you have COVID?”
“I don’t think so. It’s probably hay fever or I ate a bad burrito.”
“The symptoms you describe could be COVID.”
“Or a bad burrito.”
“You should go to a Doctor in case it’s COVID.”
“Of the massive universe of options, what treatments will a Doctor offer a man like me with mild symptoms… even if I do have COVID?”
“Probably nothing but…”
“But what?!? If a Doctor can do nothing, or more specifically if the doctor will choose to do nothing, what’s the point?”
“To find out if you have COVID.”
Finally, I took a home COVID test, which came back negative (as I knew it would).
“The test came back negative. I’m going to lie down now. Rest and fluids will heal me. It’s the same approach humans have used for minor bugs since we were living in trees.”
“Maybe the test was wrong?”
I swear to God, people have: Just. Plain. Lost. It! They think everything from flat tires to inflation must be attributed to COVID. I see now that, collectively at least, we’re no wiser than our knuckle dragging predecessors from 50,000 years ago.
Theoretically we all have some basic understanding of the science of biology. Even a C- high school student knows what a virus is. In general, even the dumbest student knows they differ from food poisoning (bad burrito) or allergies. Despite that intellectual basis, humans make decisions utterly devoid of that knowledge. It’s not just flaking out over ineffective masks and sketchy “vaccines”; everyone forgot what grandma taught us. Sip some chicken soup, shut the fuck up, and sit on the couch or lie in bed. Let time pass and generally, our body can heal itself.
A standard issue iPhone clutching meat puppet is naught but a superstitious peasant from the Middle Ages… if that. All basic modern knowledge of anything (including their own experiences with the occasional cold) has been redacted from their mentality. They’ve become Neolithic cave dwellers shaking a colorful rattle at the universe; hoping their magic amulet will cast a spell against the COVIDIAN evil eye. They’re the pitchfork and torch crowd looking for a witch. They’re fools who blame the lousy turnip harvest on the Fauchian God of Turnip.
Anyone can be temporarily buffaloed, but there’s a line of intellectual self-delusion that was crossed two years ago. If you choose to persist in the drama, particularly in the presence of information to the contrary, you’re just having a tantrum. Wise people do not indulge in tantrums. Making a choice to elevate animal level thinking over your own mind is not brave, it’s not courageous, it’s not noble, and it doesn’t make you special. Nobody is morally elevated due to their own self-inflicted suffering.
Act stupid of your volition and you have become stupid.
As for me; I slept a lot, drank juice, and cooled my jets. My new screen tent sat in its box in the corner and I sat in a chair next to it. It sucked a while and then I was right as rain. Ironically, that same sentence could have been said if I really did have COVID.