|
|
Musings
of a Thru-Hiker Tellico
Gap "Now
you do not need to be afraid of the dark any more,
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I continued to review the maps by the dim light of the single cell solitaire
until the bulb began to weaken. I
folded the maps and carefully placed them in the pocket of the pack, and
realized that my evenings had
already developed
into a
precise routine.
At night,
the last thing before
closing my eyes, I carefully check the screw top lids on the water bottles
to ensure
no accidental
spillage during the night, I check the placement of pack, boots, and
cook-kit. The cook-kit
is always farthest from my
head if it is not hung with the bear bags.
Over to the right, I place
my watch and flashlight. The
flashlight is tied to the
drawstring of one
of the stuff sacks so that
it can be easily found. A pillow is
fashioned from clean clothes, as available, and any wet items such as socks,
shorts, or shirt are either stuffed into the sleeping bag to dry via body heat
during the night, or they are left
out in the night air. Each item is
in its place.
The entire
tent is
neatly arranged.
The flaps are stretched out allowing ample breeze and preventing any
undesirable condensation in the tent. The
tradeoff is in the event of heavy rain, then it will be necessary to crawl
outside in the rain
to tie down the tent flaps
in order to prevent drenching the contents of the
tent. This procedure gives rise to cool clamoring chills
that penetrate
to the
bone. No
surer method exits for
arousing a sound sleeper. Considerable time is then required to regain
sufficient body warmth to stop the convulsive
chattering and uncontrollable shivering.
Internally the body races from a completely inactive
state to
painfully conscious activity. Finally
the shock is overcome and restful sleep is nearly regained.
The ensuing rest is not near
so sound,
as the
body remains partially
alert invoking
some protective mechanisms to ensure that such shocks are not repeated.
The decision to leave the tent flaps up is not one to be made lightly.
In my
last conscious moments, I remember hearing the wind rustle the leaves;
the woods are silent except for the creaking of nylon cord under the strain of
food bags swinging in the night air. The
tent is zipped tight as
if the
ultra thin nylon
chosen for
its light
weight offers
protection from anything out in the night. No doubt it is another ritual that has been carried over from
life in the city.
At night
the doors are tightly shut,
and dead bolts are securely locked. The
familiar feel and smell of home, favorite pillow, and the comforting sound of
the heat
pump's whirl, the icemaker's gurgle, and occasional neighborhood traffic
adds to one's sense of security at home.
Even a distant
siren is
not terribly
disturbing. Yet one
strange thump
or unexplained clank, and
all the security vanishes. The
inhabitants of the house are left wide-eyed, listening
intently, very still,
concentrating and trying to determine the source of the sound:
did the dishwasher
break again?
perhaps, a limb fell on the
roof? was it just the ice shifting
in the icemaker, just the wind? or maybe it was something more sinister? None
of the familiar sounds of home are heard in the woods above Tellico
Gap. The sounds of nighttime in the woods are very different.
No traffic, no trains, no sirens,
no icemakers,
just silence and the wind? Even
when physically exhausted the senses continue to strain to identify every sound.
Just the
rustle of
the leaves,
and nylon stretching under the weight of the food bags.
Are the bags high enough, out of reach?
Is it the wind or some other nighttime
visitor making
the nylon
creak? At
home one
might be
tempted to turn on a light,
ward off the darkness, and see what
is so very close. A small flashlight is of little use other
than to entice greater fear. The
tent is taught, and no
strong food
odors are present.
Perhaps it would have been wise to hang the cook-kit and also the clothes
that were worn to cook in
along with the food bags. Too late now to let that be a
concern. Meals should always
be prepared down wind away from the campsite so
that the aroma
from cooking and eating is
carried away and not back into the tent and sleeping area. Longer
days and greater physical
exertion will
help replace
the comfort afforded
by the missing city noises, and slowly security and comfort must be found
in the openness and stillness of the woods.
For now, prayer could not hurt.
Peace,
|
|
|