23/05/2019
I go camping because of the ugly spoons, do YOU?
There and back again - the story of my last camping trip -
When you go camping you go there for the freedom. The freedom to do whatever you want, however you want, whenever you want.
If you want to build a fire, you do it. If you feel like sitting on top of a rock for 3 hours just enjoying the sunshine and a cool breeze, you do that. Hell, sometimes you find a pile of poo and you take time to examine it and you know what? You can do it because no one can tell you otherwise.
Whatever you choose to do is the PERFECT thing to do because you determine what perfect means. In the “real world” poking poo with a stick while having a grin on your face could, khm-khm, lead to a room with soft and awfully white walls. But when you are out camping, this could be the perfect thing to do.
That sounds like freedom to me.
What about the spoons, the ugly spoons?!?!
Well, when you are out there, enjoying your freedom, and you need a spoon, you simply make one. If you want you’ll spend an hour to carefully carve it, make it smooth and maybe even add some decorations. But more often than not, you’ll make something simple. Might be a flat stick, it does the job.
This would be considered as ugly in the “real world”, but since you make the rules here, it’s perfect.
That’s why I go camping. However ugly the spoons would be considered in the conventional world, to me, they are perfect, because that’s how I chose to create them in my ultimate freedom.
Today morning, after spending the night in the woods, I was carving my perfect spoon. Only - it wasn’t perfect.
You might ask: “How? You just said everything you do there is perfect since you make the rules?!”
I wish I knew. I really do.
Let’s back up here a little.
3 days ago I decided that I’ll go and have a little adventure the day after tomorrow. Nothing special. Nothing even close to the adventures that Bilbo or Frodo had. A simple overnight type of deal.
Ohh I got that warm feeling in my gut. That longing to already be out there, breathe in, smell the woods, build my fire and be free. Like a baby - smile and be happy about little things.
You know the feeling, right?
Two days later I was ready to go. I had packed my bag, decided on the general location and set out.
Only - the good feeling in my gut wasn’t there. No spring in my step.
In fact, it was the opposite - I had a knot in my stomach and it felt like something was wrong.
That was sort of new to me.
I pushed on regardless and saw some incredible sights:
An eagle landed 30 feet (10m) from me, sat there and had an expression of: “I’m the king of the skies and I know it”. More on this a little later.
A huge spruce tree had fallen down, I’ve never seen a root system quite as big pulled out of the ground. Like a wall of a large house. (image included)
Beavers never cease to amaze me. I sometimes think that they go: “Ohh, that’s a really big tree, animal as small as me should have nothing to do with those, sooooooo I’ll cut it down perfectly just to be show off.” (image included)
I don’t know what type of lichen it was, but it was really cool. The image doesn’t capture it that well, but when I looked closely, it was like a gnarly gnome world. I don’t know how a gnome world should look like, but this lichen is where the more mischievous gnomes would live.
Since it was getting late, I wasn’t too picky about my campsite.
I found a spot where the trees opened up a bit, a river was slowly creeping by and I had plenty of deadwood.
In fact - the forest behind me was pretty much a pile of deadwood. It was super gloomy. The trees that were still standing were mostly dead and brown. The ground was a maze consisting of fallen down spruce, pine, and a few birch trees.
Looking towards it - it was dark and reeked of death.
I didn’t like it to say the least.
But since I was short on time, I decided that this spot will have to do. In all honesty - I also wanted to set up my camp because maybe this would give my mind a signal - we are camping, it’s time to relax, everything is okay.
So I unpacked some of my gear, cut some firewood and started a nice little fire. Starting a fire has always been a passion of mine so I thought that once I get this done, the bad feeling will be gone.
Nop...
I moved on to creating my bed. I just collected some moss and laid it in front of a fallen down spruce tree.
I did 3 layers of moss and gave it a try. Wow. Super soft and springy. I was really surprised at how comfortable it was. Job complete.
The bad feeling - still with me like a damn mosquito in a dark room.
I took some water from the river and put my kettle on. Pine needle tea - maybe this will help.
I sat there quietly, watched the river flow past and listened to nature sounds.
Suddenly a rocket flew over my head. Only the so-called rocket was some sort of a bird. Oh well, whatever, fly little thing.
Then - warcries. I never heard such sounds so I had no clue what exactly was up. All I knew was that some birds were reallllly fighting.
And then I saw it.
3 ducks escaping for their lives. A huge eagle chasing them, trying to sn**ch one of the ducks mid-air.
I’ve never thought of ducks like agile fighter pilots. More like funny chubby bread hunters. But this time their moves were precise and calculated.
They twisted and turned, dove down and then sharply pulled up. They did everything in their power to escape those deadly sharp claws.
They raced by me in a blink of an eye and the warcries soon trailed off.
Silence.
Not much time had passed, maybe 20-30 seconds, when I heard the sound of something whizzing through the air. You know that sound when a bird just glides and there’s this ‘swoosh’.
That same eagle landed on the opposite river bank, about 30 feet (10 meters) from me.
I didn’t dear to move. Almost forgot to breathe.
It was majestic.
I really can’t describe the look it had. It was a mix of pride, wisdom and almost cockiness. He was the king of the skies and he knew it.
A few moments later it proudly took off again.
It’s a sight that I’ll never forget and one that I don’t expect to experience again.
For that brief time period, my bad feeling was gone.
So there I sat, waiting for the water to start boiling, secretly hoping to get a glimpse of that eagle again.
It didn’t happen, but that’s okay. I saw some ducks, geese, a beaver happily floating in the water, fish catching bugs from the surface and much more.
These are the things that normally make me happy. They kind of did this time as well but there was also this restless feeling. Like something bad is going to happen.
For the rest of the night I just sat, sipped my pine needle tea and pondered about things.
When I finally climbed into bed I was again surprised by the comfort the few layers of moss provided. I was happy about the bed but my thoughts were dark.
My sleep was restless and when the first few sunrays hit the river I was sort of relieved.
I didn’t get out of bed yet, I laid there for a good 3-4 hours before I finally got up, got the fire going and put on my kettle.
I needed a spoon so I carved one. I looked at it and it wasn’t perfect.
But I finally knew why.
I hadn’t packed my bag properly. Not the one with my gear, the mental one.
Usually, when I go outdoors, the switch is instant. One step and I’m in my perfect little world where I’m free like a bird and where I make the rules.
This time the switch didn’t happen, at least not fully. That created an inner conflict.
I was trying to live in a perfect world with a set of rules from an imperfect (real) world. Well, not an imperfect world, but just a world with a different set of rules I guess.
So in the end, I was somewhere in the middle.
That realization actually gave me some piece of mind.
I had my morning coffe, ate some chocolate and I was more at ease.
After sitting around for a bit longer I started to pack my gear. I also put out the fire and did some reclamation. In the end no-one could spot I was ever there.
That made me happy.
I strapped on my pack and headed on out.
After all the adventures that Bilbo and Frodo had, part of them was lost forever. In my case, I found a part that should have stayed behind.
I’m not stepping onto a boat sailing to the Undying Lands. I have many adventures ahead of me yet.
And that is something worth celebrating.
Thanks for reading!
P.S. I live in the Nordics and English is not my first language. I’m sure there are plenty of grammar mistakes and I’m sorry about that.
P.P.S. In any shape or form can I be considered as a writer. I think that’s the first thing I’ve written just for fun ever. Some parts of the story might make no sense, I can’t get my point across like I’d like to, etc. That’s fine by me. As I said, all of this is just for fun, I hope you understand.
P.P.P.S. Bilbo and Frodo are characters from J.R.R Tolkien’s The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. If you don’t get the references, that’s okay. Good books though, might be worth a read.
P.P.P.P.S. Let me know what you think, good or bad. Comment or send a private message, it would mean a lot to me. :)
