Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up - Day 20 - West Chester, PA to Downingtown, PA - The Perfect Camp

I just kind of sighed and stood up painfully for the pack-up. I had been sloppy with how I took stuff out of the pack the night before and everything was covered with a thick frost. In the very early morning cold, I was shaking so badly that I could hardly get my hands in my pockets to warm them. They were getting numb.

It was still really dark at that hour and I was worried I was going to lose something. My hands warmed up enough get all the inner pack stuff tucked in. Then came the bane of my existence when doing the pack-up: getting the sleeping bag in its pocket. I kept putting my hands back in my pockets before doing each thing. But it didn't take too much effort (relatively speaking) to buckle up the vest and pull the pack back over my shoulders.

I double checked through my mental list of stuff and realized I was missing my smallest bungee (the one I use to hold the straps tightly across my chest). I'd found two bungees on the road the day before, so I wasn't too concerned, knowing I was likely to find another soon enough. But, I liked that other one. I'm learning to just take the bad with the good, and gave up looking for it. It is still there somewhere.

When I walked out onto the road, I only had to go about a half mile until I saw the shining beacon of a Dunkin Donuts become visible over the hill. That was nice, REALLY nice, to see. I stayed there for 5 hours after partially writing another blog post and completing my screenshot collection of the places where I've slept. I thought I'd been out here for nearly a month but, it's only been just over two weeks! Feels like so much longer...

This day would have to be a "take it easy day," if possible. The temperature had risen to about 55 F, and the sun was shining intensely. So, the plan was to go out on the lawn and dry the frost-now-moisture off all my stuff. Physically, I was feeling quite weak. I'd been running a sleep deficit. When that happens, having any sugar makes me really sleepy. Even coffee can put me out an hour after imbibing. I could have really used a day off, frankly. But this had happened a couple times now and I'd always rallied. I really had no choice.

Even though I did 20 miles the day before, I hadn't been walking at my usual 3 mph. It was more like about 2--my pedometer said I clocked 10 hours of walking. Today I'm planned to just mosey along. It would be a long way to the next major town. That was actually a good thing, because I wanted to find a remote area to set up a real camp, with my tarp as a tent, set a nice fire, and create a soft bedding.

I was not sure I'd be in contact for the rest of today or maybe a couple of days. My intention was to take Route 322 to Route 30, both going west--departing from this Dunkin Donuts from the west edge of West Chester. I told people online that it could be three days before they heard from me again. This of course was much more important to me than to them. It was hard for them to appreciate, at best, just how uncertain all of this was, and at best, how dangerous it was becoming.

I'm one tough little bastard. I realized that I could take myself into nearly any situation now. I tried to relate at Facebook that the high I feel after walking through a city at night, or making it through an uncomfortable sleeping situation - like the night before - was ... well ... beyond pleasure or pain. It was something else...

It feels like a new layer has been added to my soul--growing it outward. It makes me want even greater challenges. This might not be entirely wise. But I saw myself as just the latest in a very long line of people who thrive on challenges like this. It was an extreme sport. I knew experientially now why people explore the Arctic, rain forests or deserts, report from war zones or sail long distances. It is a drug like no other. And, I know my drugs!

I recounted all of the trouble from the night before not as some kind of call for advice or help, but simply to record the events. This was something that was taking my friends a long time to understand. Every day I improved my ability to handle more physical and psychological stress. It made me want more. Believe me, I hate being lost, or cold, or exhausted, or hungry, or thirsty, etc... But making it through to the other side of those situations is the most rewarding thing I've ever felt in my entire life.

I thank you readers for sticking with me, supporting me morally and with financial contributions when you can. I'm a behind in my blogging, and apologize for that, but I will try to make up for it on one of the coming days this week, or the next time I get a motel room.

My clothes are really dirty, I need to free up room for more winter-protective gear, but also lessen the weight. I desperately need glasses and I should get a smaller laptop. Those are all the majors. Other than that, the friend-making aspect is going well, which should make the upcoming blog posts much more interesting than just being about me.

Route 322 ran along East Branch Brandywine Creek, toward Downingtown. It was an exceptionally beautiful area. I got the impression that many of the drivers passing me were tourists, just exploring. Had I lived near by and owned a car, that is what I would have done on a nice fall day like this.

After passing over a bridge and coming around a corner the shoulder disappeared at the same time that a cliff blocked at route of escape if traffic came too close. It was about 3 miles of nail-biting, horn beeping, anxiety. Check out what it looked like...

No shoulder and no escape.

Google Street View.

Eventually, I reached an area where everything opened up. There was a park on the opposite side of the road. I called to me. This would be my long-sought refuge.

There were several paths into the woods. The sun was just about to go down. I decided not to take a path, but rather to make one of my own. Through vines and dozens of dead trees, leaning up against live trees, I pressed on toward the river's edge. I broke through into a space that appeared not to have been used in years...

Ideal camp spot along the river.

I removed my pack. It felt so good. The river was bubbling in the quiet forest and I ventured down to it. My spot was bordered by fallen logs and covered with a mandala of small yellow leaf-covered branches, with gaps where the first stars were starting to appear.

I was excited to build my first (on this trip) fire. It was easy to find every size of stick needed. I built up a pile of three different sizes for feeding it during the night.

Everything was as perfect as it could be. All of the struggle and anxiety I'd felt since leaving Maine was inhabiting this small moment of time, in this haven.

The river had a gentle flow and the wind blew toward it and away from the road and parking area. The leaves I used to start the fire burned well and it sparked up easily. I'd made a perimeter of piled-up sand. I felt so thankful. After such an uncomfortable night before, this was a prayer come true.

As I sat waiting for the flame to mellow into the first coals, I took out and unrolled the sleeping bag. And, as I did so, a young deer (a buck) walked by me and stopped to look, then broke into a trot into the darker section of the woods. I heard splashing way down the river, but didn't have time to get my camera out.

After the fire was fully established, and I was just relaxing in my sleeping bag, a small herd of about 20 deer passed in single file on the other side of the river, moving in the opposite direction as my first visitor.

It was warmer in the woods than out on the road and the fire made it even more comfy. The fire was lit at about 6:00 pm and I lay there staring at it and going over all the things that I'd experienced in the last two weeks--smiling at every one, even the bad times...

First campfire on this trip

As the hour neared 10:00 pm, my eyelids were getting heavy and I let the fire burn down to an orange ember-bed. I slept like a rock, only waking once at 1:34 am to turn over. The fire was completely out of course and the moon was high enough to make the leaves all around me glow.