Two Nights in the Ozarks

I started this blog entry over a week ago then *things* started to happen faster than I could think about them. Starting from the beginning, the past Saturday and Sunday, over a week ago, were absolutely beautiful. The sky was clear and blue and it was almost too warm. I'm glad that I managed to fit in two overnights out in the wilds of the Ozarks because it's going to get cold.

So I joined a group of local backpackers and we met up at UMR (University of Missouri) around noon and worked out the travel arrangements. This adventure was relatively stationary. We had permission to hike and execute a LNT (leave no trace) camp out in a local national park. While milling around I let several folks look at my "camping" arrangement inside Henry, my van. I alluded to "living out of" the van, but most folks don't catch on to that concept. It's still shady to appear to live out of a vehicle, much less IN it. When I have the modifications done to make Henry look more like an RV inside, then I'll press the idea forward, the idea of living out of a vehicle as a normal option for people to embrace. I'm not hiding it but for casual acquaintances I'm not advertising it just yet.

I'm still amazed at how much STUFF most backpackers think makes a great adventure. To me less has always been more. One older fellow tried to explain to me that my tiny pack was not going to cover two days of backpacking and camping out in the Ozarks. I just smiled mysteriously and asked him if I could snuggle up with him if I found myself in dire straits. He blushed appropriately and changed the subject. I do a lot with a 12 pound lumbar pack and he didn't bother to ask me what my plan was, he just did a typical rush to judgment. Actually I was overpacked for two days out. I do carry over a pound in my tummy pack, plus I carry stuff on my trekking poles, and more stuff in my pockets, so my total weight becomes 125 pounds of me and about 16-18 pounds of my "stuff." But I try to carry NOTHING on my shoulders. That's my weak spot. But compare my 15% body weight sized packing to those 40-70 pound condo packs and you can see why they are so concerned for me. What they don't know is that I can and I have camped out for over a week in the Pike's Peak area of Colorado with nothing more than the contents of a tummy pack. In other words, I have a full amount of survival gear in the tummy pack, and can live for a week on it because that's the training I've received. Lightweight backpacking is not for the average hiker, you need to understand how to survive on basically nothing then surviving on ten pounds of gear is a luxury!

Anyway, the trip was as much fun as backpacking. I like the time spent traveling in a vehicle, having a cup of coffee and a little camaraderie, and transitioning into the new space and attitude. I'm funny that way, for me its the journey not the destination. I took the older gentleman because Henry doesn't have seats for more than the driver and one passenger. He angled himself in position to travel with me. At that point I figured he was either feeling protective or attracted, and possibly curious about my plans for backpacking in the Ozarks with a tiny little lumbar pack. It took both of us to get his condo pack into the van and he still didn't "get it." There is a major rift between condo packers and ultralight packers and the former thinks the latter is just plain crazy and that we don't know how to survive. We had a good conversation, starting with packing for the wilderness. He was still worried about me.

So it started with "Don't you need a tent?" Since he didn't "see" a tent he assumed, I mean presumed that I didn't have a shelter at all. I told him I have a Hennessy Hammock and two tarps that weigh a total of two pounds for the entire setup. "Oh...well what will you sleep in, where's your sleeping bag?" Well, my sleep system doesn't have to be a "sleeping bag" though sometimes it is. For this trip my sleep system was thermals under flannels with two pair of socks and a woolen hat, inside a silk bag, with a bivvy sack backup depending upon the temperature, total weight of five pounds for the extra clothes, silk bag, and el cheapo bivvy sack. "Oh, I'd like to see that, but how are you going to cook?" Well that's pretty easy, my Esbit wing stove is 3 ounces, the six tablets are about 4 ounces, the fire starter is maybe 2 ounces, and the titanium pot is about 6 ounces. I'd say my entire "cooking" system including plastic utensils is less than a pound, and that includes a large folded sheet of heavy duty aluminum foil that can be used as a windscreen or to make a bigger pot. The Esbit fuel tablets are only for backup because the wingstove can use any found fuel, deadfall and twigs on the forest floor. So that takes me up to seven pounds. After that I had a pound of water handling stuff, two pounds of water, a pound of food, and a pound of personal stuff. I weighed it, twelve pounds and I was overpacked! That set the tone for this backpacking adventure.

We got to the parking lot and everybody met in a circle and defined the parameters of the trip. The two leaders were very organized and gave each of us small maps of the area and directions on getting in and out. Then we loaded ourselves up. I strapped on the tummy pack, then the lumbar pack, then grabbed my trekking poles and lccked up the van. I turned around and saw several straining faces as the guys did impossible acrobatic movements to toss those packs on their backs. I tried so hard not to laugh, but my body was quivering in mirth. I'm bad! There were two additional women in the group made up mostly of young fellows from the college. The women were fairly serious and they turned out to be a couple. One carried the tent and the other carried the cooking equipment, so they weren't loaded down too badly. Fit and athletic women can usually fit into a smaller tent, smaller sleeping bags, and can regulate body temperature better. Menopausal women, like me, can sleep in sub-zero weather and open the tent a notch to get some fresh air and that's like no problem. I don't get too many hot flashes thanks to my vegan diet, but I do notice that I really appreciate air conditioning like never before. In any case, I'm of the belief that we women have a leg up when it comes to survival under most any circumstances.

We hiked about six miles to the campsite, which wasn't too bad. A bit hilly, but nothing like the third class scrambles in Rocksylvania on the Appalachian Trail. It took us about two hours to get to the spot and set up camp. There was some friendly competition for good tent spots, and I hung back and let them fight it out. Then I went into a stand of trees and put up the hammock and added the two tarps on each side in a diamond formation. That served as a wind break and a privacy screen. I made sure I had a big rock and a log for comfort while cooking and eating. I hung my packs on the ridge line inside my hammock, which has it's own rainfly. Altogether it was a very cozy, lightweight, quick to set up system. I've spent years working it all out. There was water nearby so I opened up the collapsible pail and brought water to my site for later. We all met in the relative middle of the camp and had some lunch. I cheated with lunch and had a tofu salad pita sandwich with fresh broccoli, alfalfa, and mung beans, dehydrated onions, and one whole tomato. That never tasted so good before. There's something about a hike on one of the last days of autumn that makes everything you eat taste wonderful. And so it went.

Hiking is about planning, provisioning, preparing, and then hiking, eating, eliminating, and sleeping. Your whole world is simplified to the point where you are only thinking about your physical needs and the outside world is far away. No matter what is going on in the outside world, your world is simple and free.