Please, excuse my tardiness. -or- The Amazing White Pine!
I did travel to the woods of Strouds Run State Park this past weekend.
I arrived at the car lot at 1PM. The car lot is next to a lake. My roommate advised me to camp far from a lake (for relief from a cold breeze). I oblidged.
I walked nearly N into a hollow, then NE uphill, then E (as I came down the other side), NW along a ridge that eventually horse-shoed NE, climbed further (this time NNW). As I came down the hill, I was a bit frustrated. By now, I had been out there for about an hour. I had need to find shelter for the night. I'd left my blankets and tent in the car (but carried a poncho and extra sweater). A downed white pine caught my attention, so I decided it was high time I collect myself. This meant FOOD. (I'd already drank water earlier and noticed its positive affect on my outlook and nerves.)
As I ate I thought, "This quest for the perfect shelter site must end." I looked at the downed pine and a shelter took shape. First, I gathered the old branches - replete with dry, brown needles - and laid them into a thick oval (about an inch or two tall). Then, I tested it, decided it wasn't warm enough and went for more. This went on until the bed was about 8 inches thick. By this time I had taken most of the branches from the tree and was able to break off dried limbs for a frame.
I built it slowly, but felt uncomfortable completing the task. Eventually, I had realized that I'd made the shelter too box-like, but as the sun was reading about 3PM, had to move on to insulation. Once again I looked to the Forest for guidence, and she provided most abundantly.
Upon the ground was about an inch of snow, so I did not feel leaves would be the best insulation - not to mention I was in an area mostly inhabited by evergreens. I thought that, since there were many white pines around, I'd begin with their downed branches (with green needles). I gathered the large branches, and eventually began gathering the poofed needle balls (they look like a raquette bird) because they were abundant.
When I had gathered and built the shelter for some time - while taking time to explore the various tracks and plants I saw - I noticed the sun again and thought, "Well, it is now time to decide whether or not I will stay here tonight."
Upon consideration of my shelter, desires, sense of exploration, and spirit, I decided to head home - that is, to the ACME House where I reside. On the way out, I followed some tracks that I thought belonged to a cat (reminder to research the wild animals more), reached an altitude of 992 feet above sea leval, skirted the high edge of the hollow opening this story and eventually came down the opposite side of that hollow.
On the way out, I followed the tracks I had made coming in and marveled about the giant circle I had made.
That night, safe in Athens, I played guitar for my friends (at their ivitation) - I felt honored. I went to the Red Brick to scope out the place before my next gig. I studied my map of Strouds Run and tentatively planned the next day - I would go back. Then home, then sleep (I did not have to work at the station Saturday morning).
Sunday, I sang a song in celebration of being home: Georgia On My Mind (I've posted this to the podcast box to the left). I almost got it right.
A Journal on Friday
I arrived at the car lot at 1PM. The car lot is next to a lake. My roommate advised me to camp far from a lake (for relief from a cold breeze). I oblidged.
I walked nearly N into a hollow, then NE uphill, then E (as I came down the other side), NW along a ridge that eventually horse-shoed NE, climbed further (this time NNW). As I came down the hill, I was a bit frustrated. By now, I had been out there for about an hour. I had need to find shelter for the night. I'd left my blankets and tent in the car (but carried a poncho and extra sweater). A downed white pine caught my attention, so I decided it was high time I collect myself. This meant FOOD. (I'd already drank water earlier and noticed its positive affect on my outlook and nerves.)
As I ate I thought, "This quest for the perfect shelter site must end." I looked at the downed pine and a shelter took shape. First, I gathered the old branches - replete with dry, brown needles - and laid them into a thick oval (about an inch or two tall). Then, I tested it, decided it wasn't warm enough and went for more. This went on until the bed was about 8 inches thick. By this time I had taken most of the branches from the tree and was able to break off dried limbs for a frame.
I built it slowly, but felt uncomfortable completing the task. Eventually, I had realized that I'd made the shelter too box-like, but as the sun was reading about 3PM, had to move on to insulation. Once again I looked to the Forest for guidence, and she provided most abundantly.
Upon the ground was about an inch of snow, so I did not feel leaves would be the best insulation - not to mention I was in an area mostly inhabited by evergreens. I thought that, since there were many white pines around, I'd begin with their downed branches (with green needles). I gathered the large branches, and eventually began gathering the poofed needle balls (they look like a raquette bird) because they were abundant.
When I had gathered and built the shelter for some time - while taking time to explore the various tracks and plants I saw - I noticed the sun again and thought, "Well, it is now time to decide whether or not I will stay here tonight."
Upon consideration of my shelter, desires, sense of exploration, and spirit, I decided to head home - that is, to the ACME House where I reside. On the way out, I followed some tracks that I thought belonged to a cat (reminder to research the wild animals more), reached an altitude of 992 feet above sea leval, skirted the high edge of the hollow opening this story and eventually came down the opposite side of that hollow.
On the way out, I followed the tracks I had made coming in and marveled about the giant circle I had made.
That night, safe in Athens, I played guitar for my friends (at their ivitation) - I felt honored. I went to the Red Brick to scope out the place before my next gig. I studied my map of Strouds Run and tentatively planned the next day - I would go back. Then home, then sleep (I did not have to work at the station Saturday morning).
Sunday, I sang a song in celebration of being home: Georgia On My Mind (I've posted this to the podcast box to the left). I almost got it right.
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- Murk