As I’ve said, my house is in a rather natural environment. It’s not even remotely urban. It’s not suburban. In fact, the whole area is nicely uncrowded. My county is not “unpopulated”, but I can drive to “no-shit, not overstating the case, actual, textbook definition, real- life, unpopulated” places pretty easily. (Normally I’d be in such a place during September!)
Live like this long enough and you become a different kind of person. I crave the silence and love the space. When the foliage is gone and the wind is just right I sometimes see a glimmer of my neighbor’s pole light in the distance; I immediately wonder if I need to move. I’ve lived in cities but now I’m not that guy. I don’t really know how I did it, only that I won’t ever again.
The side effect of this is that my yard is probably a thousand times “wilder” than a campsite in most National Parks. I forget that. Wildlife started encroaching on my dark little universe. A deer, possibly a very stupid deer, approached the obvious, bright, light of the lantern. It snorted aggressively; as if to say “this is my path to the apple tree, get your ass off my path”.
I said nothing, which pissed it off more. I didn’t move and the air was still. The deer was baffled. It pawed the ground, as if to charge. It had antlers. It’s going to have to get a grip on it’s testosterone or it’ll be whacked on opening day (not too many weeks in the future). Possibly it’ll get shot by me. “You are prey.” I announced. “I’m not.”
The deer had no idea what the silent brooding thing under the lantern was. But it sure as hell knew human talking when it heard it! It turned itself inside out trying to run for its life. It tore off into the forest like a missile. You could hear it crashing through the brush for several hundred yards. I wish him well. Then again, in a few weeks the cycle of life rolls around and we will play humanity’s most ancient game. I’m in no condition to go thrashing through the forest like Rambo, but I’ll still hunt. I’ll shoot that buck (legally) if he continues acting unwisely enough to get in my scope. Marcus would approve. Teddy would’ve attacked the buck with a knife right there in the dark; just to see if he could take it.
It was time to turn in. Here’s where I admit to a medical detail. I need a CPAP. It pisses me off to need anything but it is what it is. It’s not a minor thing either. I was so ill and the CPAP so helpful that the fucking thing is perhaps the most important physical object I possess.
I’m well aware that I have only one CPAP. If I fuck up and break it, the medical bureaucracy and the cretins at my insurance company will jointly form a circular firing squad and start the game of foot dragging. Acquiring a replacement CPAP is possible but it would entail significant delays. It worries me. Damage that machine and I’ll suffer without it for weeks or a month or more. I do not want to deal with that kind of shit. (At least for now. I wonder if I’ll wean myself off it in a few years? There’s always hope.)
Like so many things, this is a place best filled with gratitude. The dumb little plastic box winched my ass out of a grave. (I took a lot of meds, some of them surely helped. I’m not so sure about the doctors I consulted. They meant well but human fallibility seems baked in the cake. They seemed to mostly rule things out based on expensive tests; which was much appreciated. They weren’t particularly good at forming hypotheses that pointed toward true causes.) So if a football sized gadget is such a miracle, it’s rude of me to complain but I still do. Marcus and Teddy would tell me to shut the fuck up. I get it. If you’re not dead, don’t bitch about why. I’m working on it.
Sorry about that digression but it was necessary to the story. The thing is, I’m unreasonably uptight about the CPAP. It must be protected at all cost. It must have all the power it’ll ever need. (I’ve had one extended power outage once since my dependency on it and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.)
Knowing how important it is, I bought an Anker SOLIX C1000. I bought it literally before I had the CPAP in my hands. I’m not saying you need a battery device to go camping, obviously you don’t. But if you have a CPAP and it’s a big deal to you, buy a battery device yesterday. You don’t have to buy exactly what I bought (there are dozens of similar devices), but get something. Mine protects my CPAP constantly. Grid down is the worst possible time to indulge medical weaknesses!
The Solix works very well. I’ve tested it carefully. It can easily run one CPAP for two nights. That’s two long, complete, sequential, night’s uninterrupted sleep with no charging in between (there’s a cushion of juice left over, I might ration it to three nights). It can do that while handling mundane crap like charging your cell phone. Mine also has a light (as most do) and that doesn’t seem to unduly stress the battery. I intend it for both indoors and out. If it’s plugged into AC and the grid goes down, the CPAP won’t skip a beat. If it’s not plugged into AC and just sitting there silently doing its thing; the CPAP still won’t skip a beat. In case you’re wondering, it’ll charge in an hour from any standard AC outlet. It also has a cigarette lighter plug and can charge that way. It’s also setup to accept solar panels but I don’t have that kind of scratch to spend. BTW: It charges in an hour via AC on the “low” setting. There’s a “fast” setting if for some inconceivable reason you needed that. I don’t use it because I don’t want to unduly stress the crappy old circuits in my crappy old house.
The battery is just one layer in my defenses. I acquired an auxiliary 12V cord (which insurance balked at so I paid cash) for the CPAP. I can therefore run it off most vehicles (just as I can also charge the Solix) though in either case you’d best be running the motor. I suspect a CPAP could kill a car battery overnight(?). I also have two generators; a whole house powering white elephant PITA and a small handy reliable 2000KW Honda clone (Powerhorse). I’m planning ahead. I ain’t going easy into that dark night.
This was the first “real world test” and I was sleeping in screen. It was humid. There would be a lot of dew in the morning. Everything would be soaked. I gingerly covered the Anker with a rain jacket and the CPAP with another rain jacket. I didn’t bother covering me with anything but an old sleeping bag. I’ve been wet with dew before, it’s no big deal. I don’t matter, it’s the gadgets that mattered.
I grimaced at the jumble of jackets. “This isn’t going to work.” I thought.
Then I settled back onto my cot, pulled up my light sleeping bag, and completely changed my mind. I felt as cozy as I’d felt in months. I was home. I like camping. A cheap sleeping bag in a screen tent suits me. I was pleasantly surprised how quiet the CPAP was. Nearly inaudible. The Solix is silent as well.
Something rustled past me in the dark, unaware of me and my Darth Vader mask. A good sign.
I fell into the best kind of sleep; the slumber of those who’ve let go.
Stay tuned for Part 5.