Day the One. Or Why Do I Need All This Shit

I arrived for my ten-day vacation on the mountain around 1 pm. The road progressively narrows as you get closer and there comes a point when there isn’t a road at all. I worried about getting all the stuff I’d packed to the campsite where the husband and I had pitched our tent almost two weeks ago.

Fortunately, I found a prime parking spot at the top of the hill that leads into the camp. I managed to carry the two storage bins, and loose bulk items down the steep road in just two trips with the help of a wheelbarrow. Two more trips from the entrance to our campsite. Early on I realized this was an exercise in maintaining addictions. “How much of this shit do I really need,” I thought. Camp stove and camp fuel for morning coffee, snack food, two bottles of wine, clothes for myself and an outfit for Sister Ann Wenita Morelove—wait. Where’s my suitcase?

Hahaha! I left my suitcase with all of my clothes in it in the bedroom back home. I was able to get one bar off cell service and ask the husband (who was coming at some later time; maybe today, maybe tomorrow) to bring it with him.

I moved my stuff to the campsite, happy to see that the tent was still standing and relatively dry. I did a little organizing and walked the wheelbarrow back to the main gathering area. I couldn’t help comparing my stuff to others folks’ stuff. Honestly I wasn’t doing too badly. Still, next time I’m going to try to be more intentional and bring less.

“Are you parked at the top of the hill?” asked one of the year-round residents.
“Yes,” I replied.
“You’ll need to move your car. Those spots are for folks who are working the event this week. Come on; I’ll show you where to park it and drive you back.”

We walked back up the hill and and basically drove into wilderness. It was like driving on a deer trail. If it rains anymore this week there’s no way I’ll be able to get my car out. Maybe this is why people end up staying here year round.

Another trek back to our tent. I received a text from the husband saying he was on his way. He asked much where he should park. “Park at the top of the hill and we’ll works it out after you get here,” I replied. No sense in circumventing the full experience.

When I got to the tent I promptly fell asleep to the sound of gently falling rain. Perfection.

I don’t know how much time passed but the sound of the tent door being unzipped woke me. It was the husband. He had more stuff with him, including my suitcase. He carried it without the help of a wheelbarrow. He more or less through the stuff into the tent, stripped off his clothes that were wet from rain and sweat, and fell asleep.

Camping is great for sleeping. Anytime is nap time. I anticipate many more naps to come. I just might take one now.

On Camping, Addictions, Community, and Commitments

The husband and I pitched our tent on the mountain yesterday in preparation for a ten day vacation at the end of the month, and I couldn’t be more excited.

The husband will join me when he can, but most of the time I’ll be solo. While trying to keep an open mind, I look forward to the time away from work and routine as an opportunity to rest, meditate, reboot my yoga practice, make new friends, and reconnect with old ones.

I’m trying to approach it calmly. Meals during the time are covered so there’s no worry there. Naively, my biggest concerns are keeping my phone charged (they’ll be no network coverage but it’s how I read, take pictures, and blog), keeping my vape pen charged (I’m completely addicted to the stuff), getting my hands on enough coffee (hopelessly addicted to that, too), and staying warm enough (there’ll be a fire going night and day, so that should be okay).

Part of me wants to take the plunge use the time to severe my dependence on my phone, caffeine, and nicotine cold turkey. Chicken that I am I’m planning to take some coffee and a French press and trust I can find a way to boil water. There’s a fully stocked kitchen so that shouldn’t be a problem. My timidity (does this surprise you about me?) asserts itself and I worry that I’ll get in the way of the flow of things if I show up at random times requiring hot water.

As for keeping my phone and vape pen charged, I’ve ordered a solar charger that should arrive on Tuesday. I don’t know if it will work or not given the demands and the variables. It would be better if the the needs didn’t exist.

My stay on the mountain will be interrupted near the end by my commitment to Sister Night, and later, the Nashville AIDS Walk. Sister Ann Wenita Morelove will attend both, though she may look more disheveled than usual being that she will be manifesting in the woods.

I’m not happy with the timing. I’d rather go into this without the calendar conflicts. I’m trying to look at it as part of the experience. You can help me feel better about it by supporting my walk on behalf of Nashville CARES. I’d love to reach my fundraising goal before I leave for the mountain. Here is where you can donate.

Thank you!