My first time was when I was 14 (27 years ago) after having bought my first canoe (a coleman) using the money earned all summer on a job corn de-tasalling. I had to put the canoe together (assemble the aluminum framing and gunwales, caps ect.) at my friends place because I lived in an apartment with my mother. After it was together I was able to have my mother haul it up to a camp she rented each year with two of her sisters. The camp was on a rather populated lake but there was a spot on the maps that I knew was swampy and nobody had a cottage there.
So my first weekend I had the canoe I did a solo canoe camp. I had camped many times with my friends and paddled other canoes at that point so my mother wasn't too worried under the caveat that I promised to wear my life jacket. She was probably glad for having me away so she could socialize with her sisters. I loaded up the canoe with enough gear to last a reasonable man a week. Heck, I must have thought if I were going to be Robinson Crusoe, then I was going to live in style. Back then, everything was coleman gear (including my canoe) and it was big and bulky (including my canoe).
My tent was some outlandish thing. I set it up in a spot that was still mushy wet and swampy getting my sleeping bag a bit damp but not soaking wet. Being very swampy, the mosquitoes buzzed so loud you could hear the resonance of their mutual flight. I didn't set up a fire, but had the comfort of my coleman lamp which my uncle taught me to only light outside and not in the tent. The stars were bright. A beaver kept wacking its tail against the water. Coyotes were yelping. My impoverished food supplies (mostly junk food I think) were eaten up and I went to bed all nervous and jittery. The big black bear was always huffing and puffing outside my tent (in my mind). But I also recall, despite my jitters and wakeful sleep that I was being my own man (boy). I was taking responsibility for myself. That damp sleeping bag was my own doing and there was no whining about it. The bear in my head was just there (well it really wasn't) and I would have to do something about it should it choose to invade my space (I think I had a dime store puma knife which seemed more weaponesque than the hatchet I brought). I think that point changed me and as a child growing into manhood I learned that you just need to deal with things as they happen and rely on yourself to overcome the obstacles.
The next morning, I ate my fruit and wondered about how it could be possible to take almost two hours to break camp and place all that stuff back into the canoe. I learned about how things get bigger in volume and heavier in weight when they soak up all that moisture. I had planned on fishing that morning, but the packing took more time than I thought it would and the stuff seemed to fill up what little room I had left myself on my voyage in. As I paddled the 2 km or so back to camp I could see the smoke rising from somebody's morning fire and as I progressed further the laughter of a lady probably playing cards. Back to civilization and I imagined myself looking the spitting image of Indiana Jones (I was more like a pudgy kid with a goofy track suit on - but as I say - in my mind the 5:00 o'clock shadow had progressed to full-on man beard).
I tied up my canoe at the well the camp owner allowed us to use and before unloading the gear decided to check in and say high. The smell of bacon enticed me into our rental cabin. My mother felt so warm as she hugged me and she inspected me noting how dirty and smelly I was. My mind was solidly on the bacon smell at that point and after a hearty helping of bacon and eggs and extra fried potatoes I was sent off to the beach to clean off and rejoin the defiant youth which populated the campsight.
That was my story. I don't always camp solo, but I like to do so on a regular basis. Sometimes, I think about that first night, but mostly I think about the future and moving forward. Maybe, it really was this first experience which set the stage for moving forward in thinking and contemplation while I'm out there. The solo camping experience always remains a philosophical one and something I chose to continue enjoying on a regular basis.
was going to go this past weekend, but the NE got a false alarm for a thunderstorm. Kind of upset about that--I was so looking forward to it. Hopefully no predictions for rain this weekend.
