…I paused and breathed deeply of the dark icy air. The gloom between the trees had taken on an aspect of its own; an almost physical presence. The silence was almost physical as well. It was the deeper kind of silence. Caged domesticated people scarcely know such silence exists. If fact, for them, it doesn’t. Your average person would sink into angst if this level of solitude were forced on them. In such conditions you must use your intellect to make up for your emotional mind. Neither panic nor wimp out nor ignore warning signs. There’s just not enough room for mistakes. You can’t play loose.
There were no animal tracks in the snow. Birds were silent. The sky was impenetrable. The sun a forgotten thing from an hour ago. It was blisteringly cold.
My dog looked at me as if to say “what now”? Something about the forest looked “wolfy”. I’m not sure what I was sensing there, I’ve never had issues with wolves. Was my hundred pound Great Pyrenees an allied warrior or a leashed creampuff?
What was the point? Why was I here?
In the immortal words of Kenny Rogers “You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, and know when you you’re gonna’ freeze your fool ass off”.
To my dog’s immense relief, I bailed out.
Now, the rest of the story.
Early in the week, the weather was tame. I started thinking of taking a three day weekend off to winter camp. Why not? I’ve been good. I earned a reward. That was my plan.
My plan fell apart almost immediately. I spent all week trying to adapt with newer lesser plans. I’d wanted to drive a zillion miles to camp with a friend who was also hankering for a winter expedition. But I was just too fried for the drive. So I decided to camp solo closer to home. My truck tires aren’t great and the last few miles of the access route were sketchy. So I decided to take my Jeep which would easily handle the terrain. (It’s not actually a Jeep but it’s like a Jeep so that’s what I’ll call it for now.)
My Jeep has no heat and the temp dropped to -20 farenheit. So I decided to trailer my ATV with my heated truck to a nearby spot and ATV the last few miles. The ATV is dead so I rolled it into the heated (well it’s maybe 40 degrees) garage to see if I could bring it back on-line.
Challenge encountered, solution proposed. Lather, rinse, repeat. Meanwhile I had a toothache that wasn’t going away and I was low on energy. I skipped a trip to the gym to free up a little energy. That night I put my feet up on an old box, leaned back by the fire, and read a book. In my defense I kept trying to adapt, did nothing illogical, and was carefully practicing self care. It was a good book.
Saturday rolled around and I felt like I’d been trampled by wildebeests. Toothache, vaguely generalized headache, etc… Also, I’d dinged up my ankle when I put my feet up the night before. Age is weird. I’ve never gotten used to how I can completely jack the shit out of myself by “sleeping wrong” or “sitting incorrectly”. Mortality is a bitch!
Anyway, I canceled my campout. Too many uncertainties had piled up.
One uncertainty was the location of a dispersed campsite. It’s not super far from a main road but you have to know it’s there to find it. I found it by accident on a dirt bike trip last autumn. A few weeks later I managed to relocate it a second time with an afternoon Jeep trip (it was the last Jeep trip of the season and even then I about froze in the unheated cab).
I’d been there twice, but wasn’t 100% sure I could find it in the snow. I decided I’d just take a short hike from the plowed road to the campsite. There’s only ankle deep snow out there so I’d do it on foot. Mostly, I wanted a short hike to commune with nature and maybe stretch out my suffering ankle.
Mrs. Curmudgeon offered to be my ride. She’s a keeper! We drove on well plowed dirt roads to the spot I thought the trail crossed. I dimly remembered a tree bent just so and a few other things. For a variety of reasons we’d been delayed. I stepped into -10 weather just an hour before sunset…
Stay tuned for part 2.
Loving it already!!
Staying tuned . . .