After falling on my ass at the top of
Springer Mountain, I started back on the nearly ten mile trip to my
car. I had no intentions of making it that evening, but I wanted to
get close. I was beating myself up pretty bad at this point because
the whole situation was avoidable. Never take untested gear into the
field. This has become my wilderness mantra. As much as I can now, I
test my gear at home. Especially if it is homemade. But I digress.
The Appalachian trail is littered with shelters maintained by
enthusiasts and volunteers, the one at the base of Springer was
pretty nice. Unfortunately I don't care too much for people so I
passed up staying there for the night. I made it about halfway back
to where I started before finally calling it a night. I set up camp
on top of an unnamed (as far as I was aware) hill and prepared
dinner. Instant mashed potatoes, pasta, and tuna. It wasn't great,
but after 14ish miles, it was what I needed.
The wind was howling and I began to
become concerned with an issue I was expecting to face, but didn't
want to think about. Unlike ground camping, when you are suspended in
a hammock, there is nothing under you to insulate and help maintain
body heat. Even a slight wind will roll by and strip your body of all
its warmth in no time. This phenomenon is something I had experienced
a lot in my yard, and hadn't really came up with a solution
for...especially since I just decided on a whim to go do this. It had
been in the 40s back home and with my 40 degree sleeping bag and zero
insulation under me, I had been regularly waking up shivering. Now
that I was in the mountains, I knew it would be worse.
I wrestled with the idea of setting up
the tarp to help block the wind, but of course, the wind had no
bearing. It was literally swirling around my campsite. I decided that
there was nothing I could do about the wind and made the executive
decision to use the tarp as a barrier between my butt and my hammock.
It did not look like rain, but I have been wrong before. Eventually
the sun started to set, it continued to get colder and It was time
for me to crawl into bed. I took my food bag and tied it off in a
tree like I had read to do. After seeing bear poop along the trail, I
wanted to keep the smell of tuna far from where I would be sleeping.
Throughout the night, the wind never
really died down, it came in gusts, and it made the lose parts of my
hammock flap. Unfortunately based on the design, a big chunk of
fabric next to my head would rustle with the slightest breeze. All I
heard was a bear exhaling in my ear all night. Of course, with this
being my first solo camping experience and having recently watching
The Revenant, it kept me spooked all night. Needless to say, between
the idea of an imminent mauling and sliding about on a tarp in a
breezy hammock, I slept pretty poorly. I didn't die of hypothermia
and I wasn't ravished by a bear. The sun came up, I packed my stuff
and made it the rest of the way to my car.
The lesson I learned from this
experience was a great one. I had been putting off this trip for over
a year, and for what? I didn't have the best gear in the world, but I
made what I had work. I didn't have to wait for my schedule to line
up with anybody else's, I went alone. I guess the point of it all, is
that the things that were keeping me from my dreams were all self
imposed. I pulled the trigger that day, went out and made it happen
instead of sitting at home and complaining that this wasn't right or
I need this to do that. I stopped making excuses and am better off
for it.
No comments:
Post a Comment