Maybe I'm just spoiled. I still went camping, after all. And I get to travel to Beijing. Not to mention, I've fallen in love.
So maybe I'll just sound like a privileged white (asian) guy ranting about his first world problems when I say that I am extremely bewildered and rather frustrated that I have not gone backpacking. Hear me out, though.
I remember the long nights spent tired, awake, and angry. Angry at the world, at the homework I was doing, and especially at myself. Laziness and what could only be described as an addiction to one of civilization's greatest "achievement," the internet, resulted in extreme procrastination. There I was, typing up an essay or using a statistics program (and wandering the quiet, empty halls of the dorm room, which seemed more like the halls of a prison or insane asylum) from 1 in the morning till 7.
And of course, the more this happened, the more frustrated I became with modern society. And the more frustrated I became, the more I tried to search - to no avail, of course - for the kind of wonder and fulfillment that only community and nature can bring. I would browse websites for hours trying to find a nice nature picture or videos. I remember watching, during those nights, videos of people hiking the Appalachian Trail. The desire to be out there, in nature, in the forest, by the streams and mountains, was insatiable and nearly drove me insane.
It's okay, I thought. It's spring, and summer is coming soon. When that happens, of course I'll be able to gather some friends and go backpacking for a week. A week of backpacking with a limited food supply that provides the bare minimum for sustenance.
My philosophy is that nature is a fundamental human right. And when I say nature, I mean true exposure to nature. We can objectify pretty nature scenes with snow-capped mountains, flowering fields, and tall redwoods all we want. But it means absolutely nothing if all we do is drive on a road, stop to take a picture, and leave. Don't fuck nature - make love to it. And appreciate nature even if it doesn't fit society's standards of natural beauty.
This was my thinking when I planned out a backpacking trip in the Great Smoky Mountains. I wasn't going to drive down a road, take a picture of the mountains, and leave. I was going to walk for miles in the embrace of the trees. I wanted to let the dirt and mud seep between my toes. I wanted to feel the pulse of the rocks as I touched them and wrapped myself around them. I wanted to smell the air and swim in the streams. I wanted to watch the stars at night and remind myself how insignificant things are. It wouldn't have mattered that I was just in a forest that some might call "plain" and "boring." I don't necessarily need huge mountains or canyons to enjoy nature. I just need wilderness. I've realized over time that a simple forest - perhaps because of its inherent value and inner beauty - is far more breathtaking than any feeble attempt by man to create monuments or temples.
So I contest that I am being a spoiled brat when I complain about not having been able to do this. Everybody should have the right to experience the wonder and beauty of nature, regardless of race or class or anything else. People are entitled to wilderness. To argue otherwise would be insanity. And if wealthy people stuck in their suburban ways experienced this sort of transcendental exposure to nature, maybe they would realize that some things matter more than consumer goods in life, and maybe they would put away their iPads and run outside.
Maybe if billionaires and millionaires experienced true nature, the kind that makes you starve a little before you eat, work a little before you rest, they'd be less reluctant to give up a fraction of their superfluous wealth. Maybe if they were in a forest with other people and no distractions, they would actually TALK to other human beings and realize that life has value. Maybe they would stop exploiting people in third world countries by privatizing basic human needs like water and leaving people to starve and die.
And I guarantee you they would be happier.
This is why I want to go backpacking. Because it at least gives some glimpse into how things COULD be. A life where materialistic nothings aren't marketed to you as some sort of fulfilling miracle. Where cars aren't disguised as the harbingers of true love, where iPhones aren't presented as the solution to an evermore isolated and continually crumbling family unit. A life where we have our basic needs met - from physiological to fulfillment.
I am happier when I'm not glued to the computer screen. I am happier when I'm not around people who think "nice things" like cars and televisions and video games and green paper with portraits of dead people on them are more important than living your goddamn life. I am happier when I'm around people who live life in the moment, who are genuine and earnest and cooperative, who are humble and caring and loving and selfless. That is what nature can foster.
...Unfortunately, any friends that would do such a journey with me were either busy working (to make money to buy things to make them feel like they were fulfilled), not in town, or dead/living in a different era. And while I myself would be perfectly content giving a middle finger to the world to escape for a week by myself (and then, upon returning, apologizing for giving the middle finger and sharing stories of my high adventures), I happen to be an Asian child, and Asian children have Asian parents who cry with angry tears when you half-jokingly tell them that you would be interested in hiking the Appalachian Trail once you graduate. Asian parents would much rather you waste money on clothes that you don't need. They suggest you camp in the back yard with an absolutely straight face, and can't seem to understand why that is an absolutely inadequate solution.
While I am ranting without any clear indication of a concluding paragraph, I would like to add that I cannot stand suburban tendencies. Right-wing politicians always blame the poor for being entitled and too coddled with security and safety. They fail to see that the people from the upper-middle class to the super wealthy are the truely entitled and coddled ones. When "I can't even buy a new car" (actual quote) is somehow a justification for cutting basic social programs that help the poor and downtrodden, and "you aren't ready to go backpacking" even though I have already been backpacking is justification to not go backpacking, it becomes a bit clear who is really sacrificing freedom for security, and who is really demanding more than they need.
I also hate suburban vacation destinations. Why the hell does everybody, from Obama to the Republican Presidential candidates that criticize him for vacationing, vacation in Martha's Vinyard? What is so appealing to white folk about old plantation-style homes and old fancy cars and Hampton Inns? Go experience something REAL for gods sake! Go into the wilderness! If not that, at least go to some towns where things haven't been covered up in a thick coat of sugary white paint, the very same that is used to sugar coat those white picket fences in Littletown, USA.
And why do suburbanites who DO travel to third world countries in South America to give charitable services to children who face daily starvation or lack of healthcare or crime, and claim to have had life-altering experiences, still buy computers and clothes (A&F, Aeropostal, Hollister, etc.) and chocolates (Hershey's, Nestle, Ghiradelli, etc.) made by poor children in similar situations around the world?
I will conclude this non-sequitur rant by saying that yes, I am a privileged, overprotected, and often times whiny might-as-well-be-white Asian kid. And no, I have not done my fair share in giving back to those who do not have enough. But will somebody just let me go backpacking in the wilderness for at least a week so that I can begin to break away from this wasteful and menial way of life?
tl;dr (too long didn't read) version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdIVOC_cNJI
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Camera, Beehive Collective, and other things.
I'd like to start with a video I found from this past summer. I believe it was taken the morning after the thunderstorm video/twilight video were taken in this post.
Well, what's on my mind the most right now is my aunt. She has cancer, and recently got another dose of radiation to the brain. She is now not responding to people. This terrifies me. It sucks to think that it's a problem that seems uncontrollable. So I just want to plea to the human race to get over their greed and solve the controllable problems so we can focus on ones like this. Please.
Anyhow... The other day (tuesday and wednesday), I went to a talk/activist workshop with an awesome artist/environmentalist group called the Beehive Collective. On Tuesday, they were presenting a huge mural that represented the coal industry in Appalachia and its effects. The mural is read like a time-line from left to right, starting with the indigenous peoples of America, moving on into colonialism, and then into the whole current problematic system of exploitation (of both workers and the world) that is the coal industry. Then it goes to see a healed future where we progress to clean energy and return to more land-based living.
I absolutely love how the Bees traveled around talking to people, thus coming to the realization that social justice and economic inequality are so very closely tied to environmentalism. I also like how they focused on the importance of a deep connection to the land that our ancestors once had, and how that is part of the solution to live on a sustainable planet.
All of their artwork is Anti-Copyright, meaning it is for non-commercial use. Anyone can use it to raise awareness, add to their artwork, etc. so long as its free and public. That's how the land has to be.
Anyway, I have been reading this book Greed to Green by Charles Derber, and it is pretty great so far. It talks a lot about the intertwining aspects of the economy and the environment. One thing that struck me as unusual, though, was that at one point Derber talks about the problem of suburban sprawl, and how people need to curb their desire to have more open land and just live in cities, where housing is compact.
I get his point, but the problem is not the desire for land, the problem is the reification and privatization of the land. If we could have open, natural land that was available for all to use responsibly and respectfully, then that would by far outdo any sort of city living.
Derber sees more leisure as the solution to becoming less consumptive in our current "work more, consume more, enjoy less" society. But I see nature being the key. I have had free time in the city. I still consume. Granted, I am not near my family in the city, but neither are millions who live in them. Nature is the key.
Nature is one of two fundamental desires (other than needs like food, sleep, etc.), the other being a genuine communal social life.
I like that Beehive Collective understands the importance of returning to a more land-based lifestyle.
Finally, I (and I realize the hypocrisy given what I just said about consumption) recently got a Canon sx30is camera. I am looking forward to capturing nature with it to share. I became an RA for a new dorm here at college, which is why my parents got it. I just hope I can put it to good use to share the beauty and importance of nature.
Peace.
Well, what's on my mind the most right now is my aunt. She has cancer, and recently got another dose of radiation to the brain. She is now not responding to people. This terrifies me. It sucks to think that it's a problem that seems uncontrollable. So I just want to plea to the human race to get over their greed and solve the controllable problems so we can focus on ones like this. Please.
Anyhow... The other day (tuesday and wednesday), I went to a talk/activist workshop with an awesome artist/environmentalist group called the Beehive Collective. On Tuesday, they were presenting a huge mural that represented the coal industry in Appalachia and its effects. The mural is read like a time-line from left to right, starting with the indigenous peoples of America, moving on into colonialism, and then into the whole current problematic system of exploitation (of both workers and the world) that is the coal industry. Then it goes to see a healed future where we progress to clean energy and return to more land-based living.
I absolutely love how the Bees traveled around talking to people, thus coming to the realization that social justice and economic inequality are so very closely tied to environmentalism. I also like how they focused on the importance of a deep connection to the land that our ancestors once had, and how that is part of the solution to live on a sustainable planet.
All of their artwork is Anti-Copyright, meaning it is for non-commercial use. Anyone can use it to raise awareness, add to their artwork, etc. so long as its free and public. That's how the land has to be.
Anyway, I have been reading this book Greed to Green by Charles Derber, and it is pretty great so far. It talks a lot about the intertwining aspects of the economy and the environment. One thing that struck me as unusual, though, was that at one point Derber talks about the problem of suburban sprawl, and how people need to curb their desire to have more open land and just live in cities, where housing is compact.
I get his point, but the problem is not the desire for land, the problem is the reification and privatization of the land. If we could have open, natural land that was available for all to use responsibly and respectfully, then that would by far outdo any sort of city living.
Derber sees more leisure as the solution to becoming less consumptive in our current "work more, consume more, enjoy less" society. But I see nature being the key. I have had free time in the city. I still consume. Granted, I am not near my family in the city, but neither are millions who live in them. Nature is the key.
Nature is one of two fundamental desires (other than needs like food, sleep, etc.), the other being a genuine communal social life.
I like that Beehive Collective understands the importance of returning to a more land-based lifestyle.
Finally, I (and I realize the hypocrisy given what I just said about consumption) recently got a Canon sx30is camera. I am looking forward to capturing nature with it to share. I became an RA for a new dorm here at college, which is why my parents got it. I just hope I can put it to good use to share the beauty and importance of nature.
Peace.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Plans for a Great Smoky adventure
I hope for one of my next camping trips to be a week-long backpacking trip in Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
One of the things I look most forward to is just being out there for so long and adapting to a less consumptive, less time-wasting lifestyle. Without trivialities to your time, the day feels so much fuller as well as fulfilling.
The scenery will be beautiful, though some might not think it compares to the west. Yet there's something about a plain forest that I've grown fond of ever since Shenandoah. So simple, yet so beautiful. So seclusive, or perhaps inclusive. The canopy of leaves so serene and protective, yet so inviting to danger and exploration, adventure and mystery...
Abram Falls
In order to stay plenty transcendental, I aim to stick to my vegetarianism during this trip, and ration the food to only as much as I need each day. That way, I only eat when my stomach growls, and stop when it's full. The long hikes with a backpack will also be a sort of enjoyable labor that will make the day seem so much less wasteful.
Here is a tentative camping supply list:
Click to enlarge!
Click here for the full PDF Map!
So hopefully my friends will be able/willing to go and go backpacking as well. Oh, I forgot to mention another thing: No toilet paper.
I don't want to bury toilet paper, because it leaves behind disgusting litter and harms the environment. But I sure as hell don't want to pack out my used toilet paper in some bag right next to my clothes and food. So I did some research and found an article about using natural toilet paper, like smooth river rocks with a slight narrow point, or clumps of snow, moss, or grass.
Considering Thomas's dad always mows the lawn and has him sweep the grass clippings into a pile (SO white upper-middle class suburban), I figure I'll just take this natural fertilizer and instead of having them throw it away, use it to wipe my own natural fertilizer.
Of course, something tells me Thomas would be hesitant to let me do this, even though he would lose nothing. Haha.
Gregory Bald
Other places I would like to go backpacking include: Sleeping Bear Sanddunes/North Manitou Island, and anywhere in the West.
One of the things I look most forward to is just being out there for so long and adapting to a less consumptive, less time-wasting lifestyle. Without trivialities to your time, the day feels so much fuller as well as fulfilling.
The scenery will be beautiful, though some might not think it compares to the west. Yet there's something about a plain forest that I've grown fond of ever since Shenandoah. So simple, yet so beautiful. So seclusive, or perhaps inclusive. The canopy of leaves so serene and protective, yet so inviting to danger and exploration, adventure and mystery...
Abram Falls
In order to stay plenty transcendental, I aim to stick to my vegetarianism during this trip, and ration the food to only as much as I need each day. That way, I only eat when my stomach growls, and stop when it's full. The long hikes with a backpack will also be a sort of enjoyable labor that will make the day seem so much less wasteful.
Here is a tentative camping supply list:
FOOD
Water bottle
Supercat Alcohol Stove
Alcohol Fuel
Cooking Pot
Utensils
Ramen Packs
Oatmeal packs
Hot coco packs
powdered soup/dehydrated veggies?
Dried fruit
GORP/trailmix
Beans
Potatoes?
Bag of Flour/salt
Oil?
Block of cheese?
EQUIPMENT
Tent, stakes, poles
Lantern/Flashlight
Backpack
Rope
Matches
Flint & Steel
Sleeping Bag
Knife
Binoculars?
Camera
Phone (emergency) – satellite phone/gps?
CLOTHING
3 pairs clean socks
Boots
3 pairs underwear
1-2 pairs pants
1-2 pairs cargo shorts
1-2 T-shirts
1 longsleeve shirt
WINTER: jackets, scarf, hat, gloves, etc. etc.
FIRST AID/SURVIVAL
Band-aids
Neosporin
Gauze Pads
Iodine
Alcohol Swabs
Q-tips
Medical Tape
Wet-ones
Tylenol/headache medicine
Sewing kit
Orange garbage bag?
HYGIENE
Dr. Bronner's 18 in 1 soap
Hand Sanitizer
Grass clippings for toilet paper (also collect while hiking)
Emergency TP
Wet-ones (emergency use)
Trash bag (try keeping trash to a minimum)
Water bottle for cleaning
Floss?
Toothbrush
Trowel
Great Smoky Mountains Backpacking Trip
Drive to Cades Cove Loop Road.
Day One – August 31st
Hike Abram Falls Tr. (4.2 mi)
Left on Hannah Mountain Trail (1.9 mi)
Continue to Backcountry Campsite (B.C.) 14 (~3 mi)
Total: 9.1 miles
Day Two – September 1st
Hike Hannah Mountain Trail (~4.6 mi)
Hike Gregory Bald Trail (4.1 mi)
Right on Wolf Ridge Trail to B.C. 95 (~4.2mi)
Note: Take a left for about .4mi to reach Gregory Bald
Total: 12.9 mi
Day Three – September 2nd
Hike Wolf Ridge Trail (2.1 mi)
Left at Twentymile Trail (3.5 mi)
Continue on Lost Cove Trail to B.C. 91 (~1.3 mi)
Total: 6.9 mi
Day Four – September 3rd
Explore Hazel Creek Trail, Bone Valley Trail, etc.
Stay at Backcountry Campsite 91
Day Five – September 4th
Hike the rest of Lost Cove Trail (1.4 mi)
Keep left onto Eagle Creek Trail until reaching B.C. 97 (~5.8 mi)
Total: 7.2 mi
Day Six – September 5th
Hike Eagle Creek Trail (2.9 mi)
Continue on Bote Mtn Trail (1.7 mi)
Left at Anthony Creek Trail (3.5 mi)
Arrive at the Cades Code loop road
Click to enlarge!
Click here for the full PDF Map!
So hopefully my friends will be able/willing to go and go backpacking as well. Oh, I forgot to mention another thing: No toilet paper.
I don't want to bury toilet paper, because it leaves behind disgusting litter and harms the environment. But I sure as hell don't want to pack out my used toilet paper in some bag right next to my clothes and food. So I did some research and found an article about using natural toilet paper, like smooth river rocks with a slight narrow point, or clumps of snow, moss, or grass.
Considering Thomas's dad always mows the lawn and has him sweep the grass clippings into a pile (SO white upper-middle class suburban), I figure I'll just take this natural fertilizer and instead of having them throw it away, use it to wipe my own natural fertilizer.
Of course, something tells me Thomas would be hesitant to let me do this, even though he would lose nothing. Haha.
Gregory Bald
Other places I would like to go backpacking include: Sleeping Bear Sanddunes/North Manitou Island, and anywhere in the West.
Winter and Summer
I just thought I'd do a comparison between...
Winter...
(Winter 2004 Family Gathering; Christmas Weekend 2010 Santa and Krampus; Christmas Day 2010 Breakfast; Pre-Mohican Highbanks Park hike 2010)
And Summer...
(Torch Lake, 2006 Heading to town; Torch Lake, 2006 Bedtime; July 18th Robby Visit Arby's and Mario Kart; Summer Break Airsoft 2010)
Here you are!
Cedar Falls, Hocking Hills. Summer 2010; January 2011.
Rock House. Hocking Hills January 2011; Hocking Hills Summer 2010.
Conkle's Hollow. Hocking Hills 2007; Winter Dayhike 2010.
Conkle's Hollow. Winter Dayhike 2010; Hocking Hills Summer 2010.
Pleasant Hill Dam, Mohican State Park. Summer 2010; January 2010.
Mohican State Park. Summer 2010; January 2010.
Winter...
(Winter 2004 Family Gathering; Christmas Weekend 2010 Santa and Krampus; Christmas Day 2010 Breakfast; Pre-Mohican Highbanks Park hike 2010)
And Summer...
(Torch Lake, 2006 Heading to town; Torch Lake, 2006 Bedtime; July 18th Robby Visit Arby's and Mario Kart; Summer Break Airsoft 2010)
Here you are!
Cedar Falls, Hocking Hills. Summer 2010; January 2011.
Rock House. Hocking Hills January 2011; Hocking Hills Summer 2010.
Conkle's Hollow. Hocking Hills 2007; Winter Dayhike 2010.
Conkle's Hollow. Winter Dayhike 2010; Hocking Hills Summer 2010.
Pleasant Hill Dam, Mohican State Park. Summer 2010; January 2010.
Mohican State Park. Summer 2010; January 2010.
Hocking Hills in the Winter
I was stressed from school and society, and both Robby and I had been itching for some nature. So we planned an impromptu trip that took place on the weekend of January 15, 2011, or MLK Weekend.
That Saturday, he arrived at about 5:20 on campus. I grabbed my backpack and walked out to his car. We got food at a fantastic restaurant on High Street in Columbus called Ali Baba's. This was near my friends Nneka and Laura's apartment, so I popped in and said hi.
Robby and I ate our platters (I had the veggie platter and he the lamb) as we drove on the highway to our destination. It became dark very quickly (it already was dusk when we departed). That drive was quite memorable and enjoyable; there was a great feeling of excitement and joy, and the food was delicious, and we just talked passionately about society.
We talked about things like dancing and inhibition, and how being around people who are willing to dance with you make it so much easier to disinhibit yourself. We talked about how for us, the biggest worries in life were being anxious about being yelled at or judged. I thought of how, if everyone had what they needed to survive, and nobody was judgmental, and more people were connected to their humanity, everyone could be so happy.
At one point as we drove, we took a detour at an intersection simply to explore and see what there was. There wasn't much, but it was worth it to check, haha. I believe we saw some sign that sounded interesting.
Finally, we arrived. We peed in a forest near the visitor's center, and then started to register ourselves to a campsite. We stopped and drove to look for a campsite, and saw the old primitive sites that we had stayed at during our first visit to Hocking Hills.
These sites were closed, however, so we went back to the registration site to reorient ourselves and figure out where the non-electric sites were. When we got back to the visitor's center, a park ranger pulled up in his truck and came out to talk to us. He helped us figure out where to go, and was extremely fun. Once again, I am impressed at how unintimidating and friendly park rangers are, especially for being authority figures. This is how all authority should be. I wonder if all that nature just gets to their souls and makes them absolutely open and happy.
The ranger also told us that we had missed the big annual winter hike (I had heard about it before online), and that they had about I believe he said 3,500 or maybe 350 people. Either way, a very impressive number. It is good information for the future.
We thanked the ranger and made our way to the campsites, which we realized were the same we had used during our spring trip. Well, we saw two other groups camping, which was quite good to know; we told ourselves we HAD to talk to other people who were around, and were looking forward to it. One had two people who were already in the tent, shining their lights around. Another was chattery and lively, and had a good fire going. So we walked over to say hi to them.
They were very friendly, and many were from Columbus, and others from some place in Indiana. One worked at a bike shop called Bare (Baer?) Wheels (which he told us the next morning). Anyhow, we sat down wtih them by the fire and introduced ourselves. They told us about themselves as well, and pointed out one of the girls who had not been camping often. We were impressed that she was winter camping on her second trip only. They offered us ale, but we didn't want any. We did, however, have some cold s'mores they gave us, which were delicious. My pants were getting soaked a bit, so one gave me a perfect sitting log. They were a bit tipsy, and one had actually commented that she had never gone camping and stayed sober. Which was sorta shocking to me. I can certainly see the appeal of drunken camping, but to not be sober in nature ever is quite a shame. But we finished talking and departed.
We walked to the resevoir (Lake Rogers) to sit around. We passed by a small ampitheater (I remember seeing it last time), and did some shadow puppets on the screen. For some reason, we have this fascination with ampitheaters. I guess just the strangeness that they are always at nature parks, and the appeal of the idea of everybody gathering round to watch a good old fashioned performance or speech. And, perhaps, also our love of performing ourselves.
We continued on, past the bathrooms, and past a large encampment of boyscouts. They were mostly in this picnic structure, though some were by a fire. We said hello but they said nothing.
The path was icy and we had to do what we called the "Pow-wow walk" to prevent ourselves from walking too hastily and slipping. We just stomped hard with each step. We also joked that "Two white men by the fire is worth one Indian slipping in the ice."
Well, we finally got to the resevoir, and walked down the steep, slippery hill to the actual shore. It was beautiful. There were thick winter clouds above, and the lake was frozen over with varying patterns of ice and powdery snow.
We simply gazed out at the lake, and then lied down and stared at the moving clouds, which were beautifully eerie and strangely nostalgic. We crossed the small bridge and looked at the forest, which, despite the darkness, was strangely unimposing and clear due to the blanket of snow and the bare broad-leaf trees. We hiked for a short while on trails that went along the lake shore, talking about how it was quite scary, and then turned back and returned to the campsite.
We got back to the campsite and started setting up the tent. I believe we saw our friends from the other campsite while we did this. The tent finally got up, and we took all these blankets from Robby's car and put them in there. It was quite a cozy setup.
We then snacked on some cold, fluffy pancakes he had made previously. He said they didn't taste good, but when we ate them, they were absolutely wonderful. They hit the spot perfectly, especially when combined with that cool, fresh water. We also ate a piece of chocolate bar that Robby had accidentally pilfered from the people we met.
As I wrote in my journal and read, Robby played some Alan Watts on the good old portable speakers. Perfect example of how nature and technology blend wonderfully when done right. Finally I "went to bed" at ten. At midnight, my mom had called, but I did not answer. At the time I didn't know who was calling, I just knew I did not want to answer.
It was strange. All throughout the night, I was not sure if I had fallen asleep or not. I was very aware of being awake it seemed, and every time I "woke up" I wondered if I had actually been asleep at all. I even had a dream that I was in a cold tent (albeit a very big, festival-esque one), trying to stay warm, and that Bryan was all sarco-mummied up (which Robby was in real life). At one point, our friend Derek came in and was wearing only a T-shirt and shorts, which Robby and I both felt seemed like something he would do in real life.
At around 4:00am, I awoke, again unsure if I had been asleep. I went out to pee, because my need to pee was making it harder to fall asleep. Robby did too, and when he did it (I didn't have my glasses on at first), he gasped at the fact that the sky had cleared, and there were stars. How strange and magical that they would be out at this opportune time.
Click for a better look!
And so we just lied in the tent for a bit, doors open, and stared at the stars. They were so bright, so refreshing to see, so beautiful...
We started talking about/in the Native American accent that we had been using. We laughed hysterically, I remember, about a variety of things, but mostly the accent and the fact that we were using it. It was a great mid-night happening.
I fell asleep again, this time dreaming that we were at Lake Rogers (though it seemed more like a swimming pool), and Robby was impressing a crowd by walking across water (he was at the place where the ground is right where the water is, forming an illusion). I was acting surprised, but then went to do it myself, but for some reason it did not work and I ended up swimming in the water.
Well, we awoke at 7:00 and hiked over to Lake Rogers. We wanted to watch the sunrise, and we hiked around a bit through the forest trails. It seemed it was too cloudy to see the sunrise.
But as we were making our way back to the campsite, we could see the glowing disc of the sun through the trees. It was beautiful, and the colors cast themselves across the sky.
We packed up our tent and put everything in the car, and then headed off to find a grocery store for breakfast.
We ended up finding a local, small supply store that had everything we needed. There was an old woman, Pat, and an old man, we think Everett, working there. We bought flour, bacon, eggs, a can of chilly beans, a block of pepperjack cheese, oil, wood, and firestarter.
We came back to the campsite and began preparing for the breakfast feast. We lit up a fire, and Robby got his newly bought iron skillet out. We oiled it up after it got hot and Robby cooked six eggs on it. I then took flour and water and a bit of oil and mixed it all with a chopstick in Robby's new camping cup (a gift from Sun-Jan). The cup was PERFECT for stirring dough. Robby put the eggs into a different cup of the same camping set, and cooked up the bacon. After cooking the bacon, we used the bacon grease for our flatbread/frybread. It was so fun to press that dough into the perfect discs, and then cook them up. Definitely becoming a camping tradition.
It was all so delicious, and we feasted indeed. Finally, we cooked up those chilly beans, which we both thought an odd choice (but when I had seen they had "medium sauce" flavor, I thought they might be good). They proved to be delicious, like miniature potatoes in a tobasco-esque sauce. We also cracked one egg into the skillet to mix it up a bit.
It should perhaps be noted that I am usually vegetarian, but temporarily abstained from my abstinence for this trip.
The Morning.
We also had offered food to the group we met the previous night, but they were heading off to bob evans. I found this funny considering we had gone there during the previous 2 Hocking Hills trips with more than 2 people.
Well, we said goodbye to them, and then warmed ourselves by the dying fire before heading out. The fire felt extremely good on my cold hands.
We packed up all our trash and stuff and made our way to the trails. But first, we had to find a gas station. We drove all around, and finally made our way to the town Logan. I drove to the station because Robby wanted to look at the map. We filled up, and Robby's inner fat man kicked in, so we stopped by walmart to get some softee donuts, some cheese dip, some townhouse crackers, and bananas.
Shameful. Also, that dog.
We then made our way to Cedar Falls. We stopped first at a bridge and walked over it and met a friendly old couple. We talked to them about the falls as we realized we were going the wrong way.
We drove over to a different trailhead and did a short hike to the falls. But first, we saw a large rock wall.
We got to the falls, and there was a huge group of hikers who were on the trail as well. That didn't stop us from climbing up on the rocks and sliding carefully across the frozen waters. Icicles were hanging from the overhang above, and the waterfall was partially frozen, with water trickling beneath the translucent ice.
We messed around for a while and took pictures. I could have sat on that rock for hours just taking in the scenery and the air. It was quite beautiful.
As I clamored over the rocks to make it back to the main trail, I saw a disgusting sight: someone had stuck a food can underneath one of the rocks, and it had mold growing all over it. Robby also saw caution tape, though that may have been tied there on purpose. But it was also an eyesore, completely disrupting the natural beauty.
So we took the trash, hiked out, and threw it away. We then drove a while to good old Rock House. It was so beautiful and it still impressed me at how massive the "house" was, despite my having been there before.
We looked around in awe, and then we had to climb down and go down the Rock Slide.
At the end of the slide was a huge, icy waterfall. It was incredible, and we watched it for a while, just lying in the snow. The different layers if icicles, the drips of water like evidence of life from a once lively creature, now in hibernation...
We hiked back to the parking lot and just sat in the snow for a while, taking in the winter atmosphere.
After this, we went to a place up north we had both not been to called Cantwell Cliffs. We hiked on a trail surrounded by huge rocks and went through a tight place called "Fat Woman's Squeeze." We hiked around until we saw a massive mound of ice in the center of a large, ampitheater-like cavernous structure. Icicles hung down from its walls.
This is not the Fat Woman's Squeeze. That was actually even narrower.
We walked carefully until we were able to climb down and get next to the ice structure. It was very precarious because of all the ice-covered ground.
It really was like an amphitheater, by the way. Here's the proof:
I wonder if Native Americans once used it as such. They were known to roam around in this park.
We ran into a few people and talked. One of them seemed like he was from Somalia or that general region. He probably lived in Ohio, but it made me wonder how well known this state park is around the world. We asked where he had hiked to, and he told us he saw another waterfall the opposite way of the big ice mound.
So we went through the Squeeze again and hiked a short distance until we saw it. It was grand, but after seeing the mound of ice, we didn't want to keep hiking.
So after that, we headed out.
But the fun did not end there. As we drove, we listened to Michael Franti music, some of his rare tunes. I drove most of the way because Robby was too tired.
We got back to the familiar Powell and got some Greek food (Mediterranian again!) from Greek Express. Then we met up with Bryan at the condo and just hung around in peace after laughing hysterically while using Native American accents.
Good times, good times.
That Saturday, he arrived at about 5:20 on campus. I grabbed my backpack and walked out to his car. We got food at a fantastic restaurant on High Street in Columbus called Ali Baba's. This was near my friends Nneka and Laura's apartment, so I popped in and said hi.
Robby and I ate our platters (I had the veggie platter and he the lamb) as we drove on the highway to our destination. It became dark very quickly (it already was dusk when we departed). That drive was quite memorable and enjoyable; there was a great feeling of excitement and joy, and the food was delicious, and we just talked passionately about society.
We talked about things like dancing and inhibition, and how being around people who are willing to dance with you make it so much easier to disinhibit yourself. We talked about how for us, the biggest worries in life were being anxious about being yelled at or judged. I thought of how, if everyone had what they needed to survive, and nobody was judgmental, and more people were connected to their humanity, everyone could be so happy.
At one point as we drove, we took a detour at an intersection simply to explore and see what there was. There wasn't much, but it was worth it to check, haha. I believe we saw some sign that sounded interesting.
Finally, we arrived. We peed in a forest near the visitor's center, and then started to register ourselves to a campsite. We stopped and drove to look for a campsite, and saw the old primitive sites that we had stayed at during our first visit to Hocking Hills.
These sites were closed, however, so we went back to the registration site to reorient ourselves and figure out where the non-electric sites were. When we got back to the visitor's center, a park ranger pulled up in his truck and came out to talk to us. He helped us figure out where to go, and was extremely fun. Once again, I am impressed at how unintimidating and friendly park rangers are, especially for being authority figures. This is how all authority should be. I wonder if all that nature just gets to their souls and makes them absolutely open and happy.
The ranger also told us that we had missed the big annual winter hike (I had heard about it before online), and that they had about I believe he said 3,500 or maybe 350 people. Either way, a very impressive number. It is good information for the future.
We thanked the ranger and made our way to the campsites, which we realized were the same we had used during our spring trip. Well, we saw two other groups camping, which was quite good to know; we told ourselves we HAD to talk to other people who were around, and were looking forward to it. One had two people who were already in the tent, shining their lights around. Another was chattery and lively, and had a good fire going. So we walked over to say hi to them.
They were very friendly, and many were from Columbus, and others from some place in Indiana. One worked at a bike shop called Bare (Baer?) Wheels (which he told us the next morning). Anyhow, we sat down wtih them by the fire and introduced ourselves. They told us about themselves as well, and pointed out one of the girls who had not been camping often. We were impressed that she was winter camping on her second trip only. They offered us ale, but we didn't want any. We did, however, have some cold s'mores they gave us, which were delicious. My pants were getting soaked a bit, so one gave me a perfect sitting log. They were a bit tipsy, and one had actually commented that she had never gone camping and stayed sober. Which was sorta shocking to me. I can certainly see the appeal of drunken camping, but to not be sober in nature ever is quite a shame. But we finished talking and departed.
We walked to the resevoir (Lake Rogers) to sit around. We passed by a small ampitheater (I remember seeing it last time), and did some shadow puppets on the screen. For some reason, we have this fascination with ampitheaters. I guess just the strangeness that they are always at nature parks, and the appeal of the idea of everybody gathering round to watch a good old fashioned performance or speech. And, perhaps, also our love of performing ourselves.We continued on, past the bathrooms, and past a large encampment of boyscouts. They were mostly in this picnic structure, though some were by a fire. We said hello but they said nothing.
The path was icy and we had to do what we called the "Pow-wow walk" to prevent ourselves from walking too hastily and slipping. We just stomped hard with each step. We also joked that "Two white men by the fire is worth one Indian slipping in the ice."
Well, we finally got to the resevoir, and walked down the steep, slippery hill to the actual shore. It was beautiful. There were thick winter clouds above, and the lake was frozen over with varying patterns of ice and powdery snow.
We simply gazed out at the lake, and then lied down and stared at the moving clouds, which were beautifully eerie and strangely nostalgic. We crossed the small bridge and looked at the forest, which, despite the darkness, was strangely unimposing and clear due to the blanket of snow and the bare broad-leaf trees. We hiked for a short while on trails that went along the lake shore, talking about how it was quite scary, and then turned back and returned to the campsite.
We got back to the campsite and started setting up the tent. I believe we saw our friends from the other campsite while we did this. The tent finally got up, and we took all these blankets from Robby's car and put them in there. It was quite a cozy setup.
We then snacked on some cold, fluffy pancakes he had made previously. He said they didn't taste good, but when we ate them, they were absolutely wonderful. They hit the spot perfectly, especially when combined with that cool, fresh water. We also ate a piece of chocolate bar that Robby had accidentally pilfered from the people we met.
As I wrote in my journal and read, Robby played some Alan Watts on the good old portable speakers. Perfect example of how nature and technology blend wonderfully when done right. Finally I "went to bed" at ten. At midnight, my mom had called, but I did not answer. At the time I didn't know who was calling, I just knew I did not want to answer.
It was strange. All throughout the night, I was not sure if I had fallen asleep or not. I was very aware of being awake it seemed, and every time I "woke up" I wondered if I had actually been asleep at all. I even had a dream that I was in a cold tent (albeit a very big, festival-esque one), trying to stay warm, and that Bryan was all sarco-mummied up (which Robby was in real life). At one point, our friend Derek came in and was wearing only a T-shirt and shorts, which Robby and I both felt seemed like something he would do in real life.
At around 4:00am, I awoke, again unsure if I had been asleep. I went out to pee, because my need to pee was making it harder to fall asleep. Robby did too, and when he did it (I didn't have my glasses on at first), he gasped at the fact that the sky had cleared, and there were stars. How strange and magical that they would be out at this opportune time.
Click for a better look!
And so we just lied in the tent for a bit, doors open, and stared at the stars. They were so bright, so refreshing to see, so beautiful...
We started talking about/in the Native American accent that we had been using. We laughed hysterically, I remember, about a variety of things, but mostly the accent and the fact that we were using it. It was a great mid-night happening.
I fell asleep again, this time dreaming that we were at Lake Rogers (though it seemed more like a swimming pool), and Robby was impressing a crowd by walking across water (he was at the place where the ground is right where the water is, forming an illusion). I was acting surprised, but then went to do it myself, but for some reason it did not work and I ended up swimming in the water.
Well, we awoke at 7:00 and hiked over to Lake Rogers. We wanted to watch the sunrise, and we hiked around a bit through the forest trails. It seemed it was too cloudy to see the sunrise.But as we were making our way back to the campsite, we could see the glowing disc of the sun through the trees. It was beautiful, and the colors cast themselves across the sky.
We packed up our tent and put everything in the car, and then headed off to find a grocery store for breakfast.
We ended up finding a local, small supply store that had everything we needed. There was an old woman, Pat, and an old man, we think Everett, working there. We bought flour, bacon, eggs, a can of chilly beans, a block of pepperjack cheese, oil, wood, and firestarter.
We came back to the campsite and began preparing for the breakfast feast. We lit up a fire, and Robby got his newly bought iron skillet out. We oiled it up after it got hot and Robby cooked six eggs on it. I then took flour and water and a bit of oil and mixed it all with a chopstick in Robby's new camping cup (a gift from Sun-Jan). The cup was PERFECT for stirring dough. Robby put the eggs into a different cup of the same camping set, and cooked up the bacon. After cooking the bacon, we used the bacon grease for our flatbread/frybread. It was so fun to press that dough into the perfect discs, and then cook them up. Definitely becoming a camping tradition.
It was all so delicious, and we feasted indeed. Finally, we cooked up those chilly beans, which we both thought an odd choice (but when I had seen they had "medium sauce" flavor, I thought they might be good). They proved to be delicious, like miniature potatoes in a tobasco-esque sauce. We also cracked one egg into the skillet to mix it up a bit.
It should perhaps be noted that I am usually vegetarian, but temporarily abstained from my abstinence for this trip.
The Morning.
We also had offered food to the group we met the previous night, but they were heading off to bob evans. I found this funny considering we had gone there during the previous 2 Hocking Hills trips with more than 2 people.
Well, we said goodbye to them, and then warmed ourselves by the dying fire before heading out. The fire felt extremely good on my cold hands.
We packed up all our trash and stuff and made our way to the trails. But first, we had to find a gas station. We drove all around, and finally made our way to the town Logan. I drove to the station because Robby wanted to look at the map. We filled up, and Robby's inner fat man kicked in, so we stopped by walmart to get some softee donuts, some cheese dip, some townhouse crackers, and bananas.
Shameful. Also, that dog.
We then made our way to Cedar Falls. We stopped first at a bridge and walked over it and met a friendly old couple. We talked to them about the falls as we realized we were going the wrong way.
We drove over to a different trailhead and did a short hike to the falls. But first, we saw a large rock wall.
We got to the falls, and there was a huge group of hikers who were on the trail as well. That didn't stop us from climbing up on the rocks and sliding carefully across the frozen waters. Icicles were hanging from the overhang above, and the waterfall was partially frozen, with water trickling beneath the translucent ice.
We messed around for a while and took pictures. I could have sat on that rock for hours just taking in the scenery and the air. It was quite beautiful.
As I clamored over the rocks to make it back to the main trail, I saw a disgusting sight: someone had stuck a food can underneath one of the rocks, and it had mold growing all over it. Robby also saw caution tape, though that may have been tied there on purpose. But it was also an eyesore, completely disrupting the natural beauty.
So we took the trash, hiked out, and threw it away. We then drove a while to good old Rock House. It was so beautiful and it still impressed me at how massive the "house" was, despite my having been there before.
We looked around in awe, and then we had to climb down and go down the Rock Slide.
At the end of the slide was a huge, icy waterfall. It was incredible, and we watched it for a while, just lying in the snow. The different layers if icicles, the drips of water like evidence of life from a once lively creature, now in hibernation...
We hiked back to the parking lot and just sat in the snow for a while, taking in the winter atmosphere.
After this, we went to a place up north we had both not been to called Cantwell Cliffs. We hiked on a trail surrounded by huge rocks and went through a tight place called "Fat Woman's Squeeze." We hiked around until we saw a massive mound of ice in the center of a large, ampitheater-like cavernous structure. Icicles hung down from its walls.
This is not the Fat Woman's Squeeze. That was actually even narrower.
We walked carefully until we were able to climb down and get next to the ice structure. It was very precarious because of all the ice-covered ground.
It really was like an amphitheater, by the way. Here's the proof:
I wonder if Native Americans once used it as such. They were known to roam around in this park.
We ran into a few people and talked. One of them seemed like he was from Somalia or that general region. He probably lived in Ohio, but it made me wonder how well known this state park is around the world. We asked where he had hiked to, and he told us he saw another waterfall the opposite way of the big ice mound.
So we went through the Squeeze again and hiked a short distance until we saw it. It was grand, but after seeing the mound of ice, we didn't want to keep hiking.
So after that, we headed out.
We got back to the familiar Powell and got some Greek food (Mediterranian again!) from Greek Express. Then we met up with Bryan at the condo and just hung around in peace after laughing hysterically while using Native American accents.Good times, good times.
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