I went car camping with the Boss this past weekend. It's been so busy ever since this is my first chance to post about it. Car camping is not like real camping. You get to bring almost all the comforts of home and get pretty much none of the benefits of real camping. We had an ulterior motive in that we were at a campground in the middle of where we want to buy some land and the days were for scouting.
I borrowed a nice stove from Heavy-C (thanks again) which made cooking a breeze so combined with the Boss' culinary expertise I ate like a king a weekend! Not at all like real camping when I mostly eat gruel fancied up with artificial meat flavours. We sort of lucked out weather wise as it was a mostly sunny four days in a very rainy summer. We did wake up one morning to discover the tent leaked but a quick tug under the ubiquitous overhead blue tarp that signifies an occupied campsite in Ontario solved this issue.
The flies were cruel which I guess is due in part to a cool wet summer so far keeping them out longer and the fact that Silver Lake Campground in a triangle of dry dirt between Silver Lake, Highway Seven and a swamp.
The neighbours weren't that noisy but honestly, I don't get the whole going off to the park to drink beer thing. At least not once you're of an age to have your own apartment.
So basically car camping to me is most of the negatives of camping, rain and bugs and critters stealing your food but none of the serenity and non-pollutedness (less pollutedness?) that makes camping great.
We did get a lot of looking done, didn't find the dream location yet but that's probably for the best.
And the lake was nice.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
For the love of stuff
Yeah, a 20L pack might be a bit extreme but I already own a kick ass 20L waterproof pack. Once I get around to packing I might find I have to consider something around 30L.
For me the minimalist thing is one of the great attractions in the idea of a long hike. For some time now I have been growing associations between minimalism and simplicity and comfort and complexity. One thing I certainly took away from the cross Canada tour last year was the simplicity of living life uncluttered. I certainly didn't miss having to clean the house or sort through my mountain of stuff to find the right item. That said, back in the real world just one year and I can already see myself slipping back into "needing" the exact right bag or jacket or shoes and not just making do with what I have.
In this sense I like the minimalist element as a device in the transition to a new way of living. In the future I want to learn to make do with less stuff. I think that will be easier to do after a few more months living with almost no stuff. It's like this: to go from having 20 pairs of socks to having 8 pairs of socks might seem like a big sacrifice. But to go from 20 pairs to 3 pairs for a few months and then back up to 8 pairs might not seem so bad. Once I've learned how to live with only 3 pairs of socks 8 pairs will seem like more than enough socks rather than less than half the socks I had.
That's my theory anyway.
I can say for sure that when I first got back from the bike trip I seemed to have an overwhelming amount of stuff. I got rid of what I thought was a lot that fall. Then I cleaned up to sell my house and realized I still had way too much. So I got rid of more stuff to ready the house for showing. I've gotten rid of still more stuff during the move and I still have a ridiculous amount of "essential" stuff in storage.
This needs to change
For me the minimalist thing is one of the great attractions in the idea of a long hike. For some time now I have been growing associations between minimalism and simplicity and comfort and complexity. One thing I certainly took away from the cross Canada tour last year was the simplicity of living life uncluttered. I certainly didn't miss having to clean the house or sort through my mountain of stuff to find the right item. That said, back in the real world just one year and I can already see myself slipping back into "needing" the exact right bag or jacket or shoes and not just making do with what I have.
In this sense I like the minimalist element as a device in the transition to a new way of living. In the future I want to learn to make do with less stuff. I think that will be easier to do after a few more months living with almost no stuff. It's like this: to go from having 20 pairs of socks to having 8 pairs of socks might seem like a big sacrifice. But to go from 20 pairs to 3 pairs for a few months and then back up to 8 pairs might not seem so bad. Once I've learned how to live with only 3 pairs of socks 8 pairs will seem like more than enough socks rather than less than half the socks I had.
That's my theory anyway.
I can say for sure that when I first got back from the bike trip I seemed to have an overwhelming amount of stuff. I got rid of what I thought was a lot that fall. Then I cleaned up to sell my house and realized I still had way too much. So I got rid of more stuff to ready the house for showing. I've gotten rid of still more stuff during the move and I still have a ridiculous amount of "essential" stuff in storage.
This needs to change
Monday, July 20, 2009
Monkish Luxury
After reading the start of the book I'm pretty much convinced that I want to do the Camino this spring and I think I've settled on a three pronged approach to assuage my concerns about dodging the deprivation of the AT for the luxuries of the European tourist industry.
Step one: go early spring rather than late spring. 2010 is a holy year of St James so I should expect the trail to be crowded with throngs of pilgrims. The best way to avoid that is to go in the off season or the shoulder season. The weather is cooler (snow is possible!) and the boots on the ground are much thinner. The downside that for me is an upside is that a lot of tourist sites and pilgrim refuges and such are still closed. This means that there will be a bit more roughing it, finding a place to buy food and a decent place to sleep will be a bit more haphazard.
Step two: no boots on the ground. I'd like to get off the freighter in Barcelona and wear the "gloves for your feet" all the way to Santiago. I wonder how many pairs it will take? The sole is kind of thin.
Step three: a small backpack. 20 litres capacity? The idea is to enforce a minimalist approach on myself. The thought is that since shelters do exist and food can be bought regularly, by using a very light pack I will be able to push on if conditions insist. In that way I will be able to just carry what I really need and still maintain a level of safety. The AT will require a lot more gear to maintain that level of safety.
I have no interest in dying of exposure. Or even coming close to dying for that matter. Just enough discomfort to remind me to appreciate the everyday luxuries of home will suit me just fine.
Step one: go early spring rather than late spring. 2010 is a holy year of St James so I should expect the trail to be crowded with throngs of pilgrims. The best way to avoid that is to go in the off season or the shoulder season. The weather is cooler (snow is possible!) and the boots on the ground are much thinner. The downside that for me is an upside is that a lot of tourist sites and pilgrim refuges and such are still closed. This means that there will be a bit more roughing it, finding a place to buy food and a decent place to sleep will be a bit more haphazard.
Step two: no boots on the ground. I'd like to get off the freighter in Barcelona and wear the "gloves for your feet" all the way to Santiago. I wonder how many pairs it will take? The sole is kind of thin.
Step three: a small backpack. 20 litres capacity? The idea is to enforce a minimalist approach on myself. The thought is that since shelters do exist and food can be bought regularly, by using a very light pack I will be able to push on if conditions insist. In that way I will be able to just carry what I really need and still maintain a level of safety. The AT will require a lot more gear to maintain that level of safety.
I have no interest in dying of exposure. Or even coming close to dying for that matter. Just enough discomfort to remind me to appreciate the everyday luxuries of home will suit me just fine.
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