Going "Wild"

March 31, 2015

I had the pleasure of the first laid back backpacking trip in years. My companions in arms were my Dad and friend of friends, Mim. We set out to tackle the ups and downs of the Buffalo River Trail from Ponca to Erbie. Traversing 16.8 miles over 3 days, we were privy to the gifts of an abundance of water from the violent storms days before. Nearly every creek was bursting and rolling. Hillsides poured forth and over and around. Every drop seemed to be seeking the bottom where it could join the Buffalo River and push ahead with all it's companions. We started the trip with a herd of Elk at Boxley stretching and playing in the field. Then on to the trail where we were quickly met with a crossing of Steele Creek. Then up and over and around to a perfect campsite at Beech Creek. We made camp in the small space between the valley wall and the rushing creek. After a warm meal and a calming fire, we set to sleep to the sounds of water just feet from the tent door. The next morning was more hills and loosening of joints that had grown stiff with the cold of the night before. Settling at Shop Creek, we found ourselves in heaven again, a lush valley with multiple falls flowing over moss and flower covered rocks. Another cold night was greeted by fire in the morning, a bountiful hot breakfast and the last fill of water processing before heading to the car. The ground became mostly less dramatic topographically, the sun came out to greet us and we knocked out the remaining hike with striking views of the shining green Buffalo River below us.

The backpack was great, but the mindset is what I was craving. The simplicity of walking miles only to set up camp, purify water, cook dinner, enjoy a fire, sleep, get up, make breakfast, make a fire, take down camp, do it again. I know we weren't in survival mode. There was no hunting (rather amazing freeze dried food - shout out to Mountain House) and no real survival as we had all the tools of the trade at hand, but we were functioning with what we had on our backs. Clothes were worn for 3 days, people got cold at night, lint and vaseline balls were used to start fires. These were not normal days. Cleanliness standards went out the window. I put my hand on the ground and then picked up my dinner to eat it. Teeth went unbrushed. Hairstyles weren't even a real thing. The priority was living and embracing the fellowship of both your companions and the woods. This isn't a kum-by-ya moment. It's a reminder of priorities. The world is full of technology and false connectedness. This was being connected to the business of living and the people you do it with. It takes every single one of us to make the day go 'round on a trip like this. Someone starts the stove, someone purifies water, someone sets up tents, we all warn each other about the super thorny stalk on the way to the pee spot. In the middle of it all, you awe at the way the sun hits the valley wall in the morning, how the frogs sound down on the river, how the tree has fungus that looks like a duck on it. This is living! All the entertainment is right there immersing you.

My favorite quote is from Colonel Fawcett - The call of the wild is in many o' us and finds its safety valve in adventure.

I'm not going to pretend that sleeping in my high end matress, in a temperature controlled house after a long hot shower isn't pleasant compared to the 35 degree night on a slanted hill sleeping on a rock is not nice, but it doesn't fill my soul. I won't wake up to two people I love around a campfire. I won't see a green pool with no depths. I won't feel the chill as I slip out of my down sleeping bag. There is a balance, but life isn't all here. My house is basecamp. The living goes on in the adventures and the moments filled with people that we love.

Some moments from the trail: