Posts Tagged With: Alone

Hammock Overnighter

Not very often do I find a consecutive Friday night and Saturday morning where nothing is going on. I took the opportunity to go out alone and camp overnight. The weather was ideal, if you don’t care for clear skies and dry ground. This was a great opportunity to test out my new rain fly (borrowed from an old tent), and see what it is like to sleep in a hammock.

After some tactical consideration, I chose to camp in Green Canyon where I wouldn’t wake up to any surprises on my car windshield. At the parking area I surveyed the landscape and chose a direction to look for a campsite. I wasn’t feeling very ambitious, so I found a general area about a Frisbee throw from the parking area.

I stumbled onto a fire ring made of rather sharp rocks, and decided that I had gone far enough. It was about 7:00 Friday evening. After scouting the area to assure that I was the only inhabitant of the new digs, I strung my hammock and managed to get the rain fly raised and configured in record time — about 45 minutes. If my carefully coiled rope hadn’t been so well packed it might have taken longer.

The sleeping quarters looked good, almost picturesque. From the inside I had a great view of the trail so I could see who came and went. To get an idea of what it looked like just think of 4th and Main. A stop light might be appropriate on the weekends.

I knew the dark would be on me before long, so I explored the area and found a dead juniper tree. That is where I spent the next 30 minutes, gathering firewood. With an ample supply on hand I turned my attention to the fire pit. Tall grass stood all around it, making it almost invisible. Not only would the grass get in the way, but it might be hazardous. So I trimmed out a circle 2 feet larger than the fire ring, one handful at a time, using a knife to cut it. It was painstaking work, but it looked pretty neat when I finished. Soon the air was filled with the crackle of flames and the scent of juniper smoke.

Camp

Camp

The world got darker and darker, but at some point it actually lightened a shade or two, enough to see shapes clear across the canyon. It was the lights from town reflecting off the clouds. I walked out into the field to observe what I could beyond the fire glare. From there I could see the city lights lining the mouth of the canyon. Then I noticed a strange sound, barely audible. It sounded like a distant gun shot, coming from over the North mountain ridge. First a faint boom coming from one side, then an echoing report from the other side. I stood for several minutes just listening. It happened again and again, with a few moments in between. They got louder. Soon I could see dim flashes of light on the ridge. It looked like the front lines of battle on the other side or somewhere not too far. I thought about what it would be like to live someplace where every day you knew the war was just one ridge away from your home. An ominous thought, it gave me the chills.

After a while the fire died down to a nice bed of glowing coals. My excursion was such a last minute affair that I went up without any good food to roast over the fire. That was a bummer. I did pack myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I can’t imagine a bed of glowing coals improving the taste any. Since I had no food to cook and no friends to tell ghost stories to, I decided to turn in early. I don’t like ghost stories anyway.

Looking From Inside The Hammock

Looking From Inside The Hammock

I didn’t worry about the fire getting out of hand, a new volley of rain came through every 20 minutes or so. I got into my hammock filled with sleeping bag. It was so soft, and the air was so warm, that I considered just sleeping on top and not worrying about getting inside. Experience told me that it would get colder in the small hours, besides, I needed some protection from mosquitoes.

As I settled into bed and prepared to sleep, a group of guys at the parking lot gathered together and raucously shared their experiences. Who knew “salty” language could be so unsavory? Next time I do something like this I’ll go someplace not so busy.

Bedtime

Bedtime

I woke up several times during the night. I realized that a hammock is a hassle when you gotta go. I also noticed the sound of mosquitoes. They sounded like they were trying to get to me from underneath. Surprisingly (and thankfully) they never came up topside. Other than that, it was nice not having rocks and roots sticking into your back (even with foam pads). In the morning I felt like a banana. I laid there about an hour before peeling myself out of bed. I was a little stiff, and thought if I tried to straighten up I might break.

The first thing I did was check my backpack to see if it was safe and sound. It was dry, but alarmingly it was covered in bugs! A congregation of pill bugs gathered for a revival. I’ll probably be pulling pill bugs out of there for weeks. Note to self: get everything off the ground. I’m glad that I put my shoes in the hammock instead of on the ground.

Company

Company

I started the fire again, just to prove that I could after a rainy night. Once it had died down enough I got my stuff together and took off. I think I’ll need a nap.

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Categories: Adventures | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

Storm Sitting

The ravine below me

The ravine below me

Looking out towards the valley.

Looking out towards the valley.

The trail was clear until it reached a ceiling of mist near the peak.

The trail was clear until it reached a ceiling of mist near the peak.

To the south the storm continued to cast shadow and gloom over the city.

To the south the storm continued to cast shadow and gloom over the city.

Me

Me

My nose

My nose

How glorious the sunshine was over the valley.

How glorious the sunshine was over the valley.

Breakfast this morning

Breakfast this morning

 

I saw a storm coming in as I drove home from school. It would be a shame to let a good opportunity go to waste. With the clouds starting to block out the sun, I drove up to Green Canyon on the edge of town and parked as high on the side of the mountain as possible. I got out and opened the trunk. I found a hoody and pulled it on, then I shouldered my backpack, locked the car and took off up the nearest trail.

The sky was gray and to the north loomed a dark blue thunderhead, below it the landscape disappeared behind a curtain of rain. I climbed a trail that was damp from the last downpour, but not muddy. The breeze was cool and a few drops hit me now and again. The air was fresh and fragrant with wet sagebrush, mules ear, and earth. I definitely need to go backpacking more often.

The trail led to a large boulder which was familiar to me because DJ and I had found a geocache here before. I figured this was high enough and I looked for a natural shield from the wind and rain. I took refuge just off the side of a ridge-line, just above a thicket of scraggly maple and scrub oak. On this slope I settled down and opened my pack to see what luck had afforded me. In the main compartments I found a change of clothes, mess kit, first aid kit, small survival kit, and several packages of emergency rations. The side pockets were empty, which is just as well because I can never find anything when I distribute stuff throughout the various pockets. I had expected to find at least a poncho, but I guess that got taken out in case I wouldn’t need it.

A pocket within the main compartment contained a plastic ground cloth from the previous decade, complete with duck-tape patches. Seriously, I remember using it when I was a boy scout. It wasn’t much, but after all, a tarp in the bush is worth ten ponchos at home. I pulled it out and looked it over. It was about 3 x 5, so not too big. The corners had little loops of string leftover from previous usage. These I attached to branches around me to make a canopy about three feet or so off the ground.

It was hard to sit on a slope so I put my pack under my legs and sat on it, facing away from the hill. My feet kept the bag from sliding downhill and the bag gave me a seat. This posture wasn’t exactly relaxing, but at least I didn’t have to crouch or kneel in the dirt. I chose this spot because it was the least likely to get me wet, or blown away, or struck by lightning, discomfort being the lesser of two evils.

Soon the sprinkles turned to droves of rain. My canopy flapped just a little, though the wind was strong. My strategic position was very effective in that sense. Every once and again a bunch of water would spill off one end of the tarp. My head held up the center so the water couldn’t gather there. So far so good. Then it started to hail.

The hail wasn’t much different except that where the rain would just stay where it landed, the hail liked to roll and bounce in from the uphill side. My seat was liable to create a little reservoir if this kept up. Then I noticed the increase in weight on my head. The hail stuck to the plastic and formed a slush that didn’t roll off like the rain did. No problem, I just patted the tarp every so often to keep it moving. Water shoots over the edge. Slush likes to stick around and throw water underneath the tarp. I was getting slightly soggy. I considered unhooking the tarp and using it as a poncho. That way it might keep more water out and also serve as a wind breaker. All the heat in my hands had been sucked out by the moisture and the wind.

I didn’t know how long this was going to last. As exciting as it was with lightning flashing and thunder pounding terribly, I got a little bored and started messaging DJ. It occurred to me that if something were to happen to me it might be a long time before anyone noticed I was missing, and even longer before my general location was found, let alone my body. DJ was the only one who would know what I was talking about if I had to describe my location. If he needed to, he could give rescuers my exact coordinates since I was within a few yards of a geocache.

I wasn’t too far into the boonies and still had service. I told DJ what was going down. I said that if I went missing, he would know where I was.

“Just so you know. If I turn up missing, I’m up by Green Canyon, sitting out a storm.” I said.

“If you do go missing, can I have your stuff?”

“Not unless a body is found.”

“That can be arranged.”

It’s comforting to know someone has your back.

It got so wet under the tarp that I had to put on the pack and stand up. The water certainly came off better, but even though I was well out-of-the-way, my head felt very prominent. I didn’t like that position at all.

Occasionally I looked out at the valley and finally I saw light on the other side of the watery veil. The end of the storm was near. When the rain ended it did so quite suddenly. I came out and marveled at how clear it was and how glorious the sunshine was over the valley. To the south the storm continued to cast shadow and gloom over the city. I looked up the mountain. The trail was clear until it reached a ceiling of mist near the peak. There’s nothing like a good storm to refresh one’s perspective.

Cold and clammy, I wrapped up my tarp and shimmied down the trail to my car. The purpose of doing this (besides randomness and lunacy) was to find out how I would fare in such a situation with only what I had in my pack, while still able to opt-out. I found that my tarp was OK in a pinch, but I would rather it be bigger so that I could set it up and have more than one foot square of dry ground underneath. I would set up the tarp with at least one side on the ground to block the wind better, and again, to keep more moisture out. The material is an important factor. I need something durable, yet lightweight. Maybe I can pack a large tent fly. They are much more durable than the piece I had, and I could probably find one that is twice the size and still be lighter. A bonus is that tent flies generally have elastic cords on each corner that would make set-up fast and easy.

More level ground would be ideal, but it is hard to find level ground that isn’t likely to get struck by lightning or flooded by run-off. Still, I think I could manage to find a better spot to set up camp. If I had to stay the night I would have been in trouble, not only because sleep would be impossible, but moving once the storm had started would be fruitless. Everywhere else would now be soaked, plus there is the danger of traveling under such conditions.

Gloves would make the experience much more comfortable. I had them, but I didn’t want to get them soaked. Waterproof gloves, that’s the way to go. Or maybe I could just apply a coat of wax or sealant to the leather. Along those lines; after a rain, the grass and bushes are covered in water. Walking through them is like wading through a river. Waterproof pants or even gators would be handy to keep your pants and shoes drier. Extra socks are a must anyway, but keeping your shoes relatively dry would make a change of socks worth it.

After everything else, it would be great to have some kind of diversion. I would have liked to have a book, or a notepad with me. It’s possible there won’t be service in the emergency situation, hence the need for a pack in the first place. I guess I have games on my phone, but I would rather save the batteries for more crucial purposes.

The storm sit, wasn’t a bad experience, but a few modifications could make future occasions more comfortable, and leave me in better shape to continue.

 

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All Alone in the Dark

I was going to meet with the scouts up the sheep lane past the cabin. I took the 4 wheeler. I started it not knowing it was in reverse, but with lightning reflexes I was able to dislodge the throttle well before I got to the trees. After that the journey was uneventful up until I got past the cabin and was feeling like I was getting pretty close. Then it died. A thorough going over couldn’t find anything wrong but the fact that it wouldn’t start. After thinking it over I decided it a good idea to strike out afoot. I remembered that one of the scouts is good with mechanics. It was a nice afternoon and I enjoyed the walk, the scenery and the air (though slightly smoky from the wild fires down in Utah). I passed a sheep camp, a dry riverbed, a cattle guard. Then I saw headlights up ahead. I wasn’t sure how a stranger would take finding a man such as I wandering up the sheep lane on foot, nor was I in the mood to deal with them. So I hid myself in the trees just off the side. As they passed I heard the one driving, a woman who seemed to be doing all the talking. I over heard something about a “huge herd of elk”, and then they were gone. I simply stepped out and continued trudging. I was starting to wonder where the scouts could be when my phone rang. It was Dad informing me that a fire had started up on the mountain and that I’d better get out of there pronto. I told him that if that was the case then I was in a predicament.

I also learned that the scouts were a bit farther than I’d expected. All I could do was hike on back to the vehicle and do I know not what. I couldn’t help but wonder how ablaze the sunset looked as I back tracked. I decided to run. I fell only once in the dimming light, but had so much momentum that I just rolled and righted myself and kept running as though nothing had happened, which I thought extraordinarily graceful to have happened in the river bed.

My only hope of getting home was to somehow get the vehicle running. I pulled and prayed, pulled and prayed, till my hands started to blister and my knees were frayed. By then it was dark. I sat down to rest for a bit. Then I realized just how alone I was, just how eerie the full moon cast shadows among the trees. The noise from the herd of sheep up the trail seemed to fade and silence choked the atmosphere. That was all I needed, a healthy dose of panic to liven the limbs. I decided to push the contraption at least back to the cabin where I knew I could get service on my phone. From there I could call and have someone come and pick me up. I felt no cold, I was all lathered up from trying, to heave the 4-wheeler up the rocky trail. I finally gave up and decided to go find service before sun-up.

I walked for a long time, checking my phone for service every now and again. As I walked there were shadows and beams of moonlight that created odd shapes in my minds. The hair on the back of my neck wasn’t just standing, it was doing a few numbers of river stomp. I saw a big black object standing among the trees. I froze and watched closely for movement. I stared at it a good five minutes before I could convince myself that it was just a stump.

I continued my evening stroll until I finally found enough cell service and called my brother. So they were on their way. I was saved… or would be if something else didn’t get to me first. What really had me concerned was my ability to see things that weren’t there. I wasn’t too keen on dying of a hyperactive imagination, but the danger was peaking.

After another few minutes of walking I found myself at the gate leading to our cabin. I wondered why I didn’t tell my brother to meet me at the cabin instead of the sheep lane. It would have been only a bit of a walk compared to the one I had embarked on earlier today. But my course was set and it wouldn’t be too much longer until they got to me, I decided to not complicate things. I sat myself down on a nearby log and waited.

the moon was high now but it’s light was dimmed slightly by the smoke that still hung in the sky. The wind only breezed through once and again to rustle the leaves in random places. the night was getting chilly and I began to feel it now that the more physically exerting part of the evening was done. I realized that the later it got, the more acute my senses became. I observed my surroundings and there came again that feeling of loneliness trimmed with fear, knowing that if something were to happen to me there would be no witnesses. There was no one to watch my back. I was alone in a dark forest, only a picture of my girlfriend to keep me company, and I checked it often to make sure she still was.

I heard noises in the trees surrounding me. owls conversed long distance. Elk could be heard calling in a grove of trees not too far from my front row seat. Mice would sneak up behind me and start thrashing around in the grass and leaves until I had made a satisfactory response and then disappear. I had to figure something out or I was going to go insane.

Finally I heard the sound of an ATV sputtering up the trail. It took an eon to come into view. The Rhino came closer and closer and the only thing louder than the engine was the talking going on. My sister was with him. they came close to passing me up. I wasn’t about to let that happen. I gave a shout, but I think it was the cell phone I was waving around that finally got their attention. The talking was interrupted by a scream which startled my sister. Then she gasped “what is that, a star?”, and my brother answered “no, it’s Pete. Hey Pete what are you doing up in that tree?”

Categories: Adventures | Tags: , , , | 2 Comments

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