The moon gave off pure purple shafts of light over night. They slowly swam across the inside of the tent every time I woke up to turn over or pee.
Speaking of the latter, I try to always buy a drink of some kind to bring back to the sleep spot when I can afford it. Not only can I hydrate before I turn in, but the empty container makes for an effective urinal. I know, I know, maybe too much information, but I think it is important to understand the tricks of the trade. Some other fool like me is going to do something like this urban camping thing someday, and it is better to have these bits of information ahead of time than to figure them out by default (as I did).
Here's the deal with middle aged male campers (I'm not qualified to comment on the other gender's needs)... We have to pee during the night. It is a simple and overriding fact about sleepy time. If I don't drink something a few hours before "bed," I end up with a very dry mouth; one that wakes me up even more frequently than having to pee. Now, peeing seems like a simple thing. It is, however, not.
Once I finally get the sleeping bag zipper to zip correctly without splitting, and get into a position that will not put too much pressure on it, I can sleep warmly until I have to pee. When those few hours of sleep have gone by, my bladder fills and then the need becomes undeniable. The less I have to do to accomplish the task of relieving myself, the better. The reason for this is that if I do too much I will remain awake. I wake up to full consciousness very easily and find it difficult to get back to sleep. When doing the kind of walking I do each day, sleep is vitally important. I guess I don't need to explain that.
So when that need hits I could unzip the bag, put on my shoes, unzip the the tent and tarp/fly flaps, get out of the tent, walk over to the side of the area, do my thing, get back in the tent, take off my shoes, get back in the bag, spend a few minutes zipping it up properly and then attempt to fall asleep again. Too much!
So instead, what I do is keep a container outside, next to the tent. Unzip the bag and flap, kneel and use the container, then swivel and pour it out a few feet from the tent, place the container back, zip everything up again and get back to sleep. If I have the foresight to have a container with a lid, I don't even pour it out. I just leave it for morning. Those few less steps make a big difference for my sleep cycle. Sometimes I'll have to go twice and simply follow the same procedure. A woman would not have that kind of advantage. Perhaps someone can leave a comment here or at Facebook with some ideas about what a woman could do to shorten her own process?
I followed the above prescription overnight. When I'd successfully re-zipped the sleeping bag I lay there for a few moments just watching the shadows of the pine needles projected in the moonlight on the side of the tent. There is something of a tease to winter moonlight. It seems so much brighter and clearer than in the summertime, but there is no warmth to it. Many people don't realize that moonlight is actually polarized; reflected sunlight. The effect we see is similar to what happens through a pair of sunglasses. Light propagates as wave which runs up and down (vertically), and side to side (horizontally), simultaneously...
Graphic depiction of a light (electromagnetic) wave. Source: Wikipedia.
Polarization filters off either the red or blue portion of the wave.
A cross section would appear to be like a plus symbol. Polarization cuts one or the other of those directional waves away. That is what gives moonlight such an eerie and unique glow. The things that pass through the sleepy mind of an urban camper. Ha!
Before I knew it, morning had arrived. At least my watch alarm said so--6:00 a.m. It still looked like night outside, which always tempts me to lie back down and snooze a little longer. And, perhaps out of sheer laziness, I did.
Another thing I've been meaning to recount, is just how much my dreams have to do with my waking life. There are very direct correlations lately. Normally, when I am not in walking and camping mode (not sure how "normal" that really is anymore, but...), I dream about things that rarely have anything to do with my waking life. Recently though, the dreams have reflected aspects of wakeful concerns. One example is cold feet...
Now some more science trivia. The body has two temperatures to regulate: (1) core and (2) shell. During sleep, especially during NREM (non-rapid eye movement--when one isn't dreaming), shell temperature decreases. Conversely, during REM sleep (when dreaming) the core - including the cranium (which houses the brain) - temperature increases. Theses temperature changes in both NREM and REM are very slight, but noticeable to the one undergoing them. We experience more frequent REM periods as we approach wakefulness. Yet, the shell temperature remains relatively lower. For me, this means that in the mornings when I am sleeping in a frigid place, and my feet get cold in the sleeping bag, I often have dreams about wanting to find a better way to stay warm.
On this morning, my dream consisted of being in my childhood home, down in the basement where the washer and dryer were. A bunch of people (can't remember who) were sitting around gabbing, while I - in my underwear and t-shirt - sorted through the clean laundry for a large comforter that I'd bought. I was frustrated by not being able to find it. All I really wanted to do was wrap my feet in it. And, I knew that if it had just been in the dryer, it would be especially warm. Failing to accomplish this simple task I lay down on the pile of laundry, and woke up in the real world--with cold feet. Yet, I noticed that as my consciousness cleared and I became fully awake, my feet warmed up again. I'd never put all of this together before this morning, though I'd experienced it many times before.
It was light out now--about 8:00. I decided that I would leave the tent, since I was very confident of its safety there among the short pines. This was a welcome decision, in that I only had to brush my hair and teeth, put the tent-side pocket items in my pant pockets, stuff the sleeping bag in the pack and head out; with no tent disassembling.
It was overcast, but much warmer. I got to Starbucks, bought my usual dark roast, with an ice water, and settled in for a day of writing. I have a pattern now of telling my present circumstances to friends at Facebook, while writing posts about the past day(s). It is kind of neat how that has developed. Friends get to know what my current location and condition are, and then if they read the blog post that day, they are able to be reminded of how I got there. Similarly, they may recall this day's Facebook description when it is expanded in the next day's blog post. Not saying it is all about me. But, it is a little bonus to the blog-reading experience. All the while, I get to catch up with all that they are doing while I work. I don't multitask, as such. I do a little bit of each thing (Facebooking--which, for me is also promoting the blog and begging for funds,) and blogging, in a cycle that completes both by the end of the day.
When I was ready to leave for the daily meal, the sun was poking out. Intellicast.com said the next day (Thursday) would be clear, but a huge winter storm was making its way from California and would hit on Friday. For a while, even on this day, a bit of sleet came down, giving a taste of what was to come.
I asked my manager, Joyce, if she would prepare one of the motels (the Super 8) for a possible visit from me, if I could get the funds to do it. I need her assistance to give legitimacy to my project. Places won't believe my real story of crossing the country if I just walk in looking like a bum off the street (which is essentially what I am!), having only an expired Maine license as an ID. It works very well this way. She could talk anyone into anything. Truly folks, I'm glad she's on OUR side of the Force.
And, another friend made a donation for a room. But, I needed to save it. I had only enough extra money for two more meals in these next two days. Nothing - and I mean nothing - is more stressful than the constant money insecurity, and the need to beg on my hands and knees for crumbs. I would be even more bold about the things I do, if I was secure financially. Apparently, it just isn't going to happen. Talking about it for the last fifteen months has not brought in a corporate sponsor, nor further media attention, nor a wealthy venture capitalist.
Had I another six hours in each day, I would be able to promote this project in these other ways. As it is now, I only have enough time to do what I've been doing. There are a thousand people who read the blog each year, a hundred who read every day, fifty who donate at some point each year, and ten who regularly try to contribute each month. If I could add five more to that last group the pressure would lighten up. I will keep trying. I've gone from feeling guilty about asking for contributions to really believing in what I'm doing enough to not feel guilty anymore. I guess that's some kind of improvement.
I was pulling the pack over my shoulders when I saw a woman about my age walk from table to table asking about something. My instinct as an introvert was rushing me to leave before she arrived at my table. But, I'm glad I didn't leave. She got to me and said that the place she worked for gave out tickets to employees for a night at the movies, but she wasn't able to go and wondered if I wanted her ticket. She looked very honest, but tired of asking people.
I took a look at the ticket. It was for The Revenant, a movie about which I'd only recently heard. I like Leonardo DiCaprio. The show was for 7:10 p.m. I could understand why folks weren't taking it. But, shit! I had nothing better to do that night, was camping right across from the theater, and could stand going to "bed" a bit later. I gratefully accepted it. I asked her if she wanted any money for it (not that I had any, but it seemed the polite thing to do), but she said, "Freely I received, so freely I give." With that, the deal was done. It was off to a fast food dinner and a movie. I almost felt like a normal person.
On the way back from the Dairy Queen (only the second time I've ever been there), I caught this number on the sidewalk...
Number of feet to the curb. Wish it pointed to something more gratifying.
Taking a short jaunt through the woods to make sure the tent was still there, I looked at my watch. Still two hours to wait before the show. The tent looked fine although it had received a light dusting of sleet...
I stood outside and took some shots of the area, then pulled out the laptop and transferred them to it from the camera...
White Pine?
I was smart enough that morning to have rolled the new tarp under the tent's tarp/fly, disallowing the sleet from melting and running under the tent. This would be the secret to the keeping dry in the storm that would hit in two days...
A good shot of what happens when the waterproofing is gone from
the seams of the tarp/fly--they get saturated.
Pretty small setup for living. We've heard of the "tiny house movement"? This is one step below it.
Yet, it is one step above the green tarp existence I lived before receiving the tent.
Ah, and behold my pee vessel waiting proudly to be used later that night.
Barking up the right tree.
The time passed quickly, and it was quite dark when I walked out of the woods and over to the theater. I went into "Auditorium 5" and enjoyed the previews, then watched my movie. Frankly, I was blown away by DiCaprio's performance, and felt his character's pain. That it was a true story made it all the more impressive. Dicaprio himself went through his own little cold and wet hell too. The next morning, I would post my reaction at Facebook (reproduced in the next blog post) after digesting the film overnight.
I guess if there ever was to be an "IWALLK The Feature Film" I would want him to play me. He'd have to lose some hair first, but might be a pretty good match (Alex says, flattering himself). I thought about the movie for a long time before falling asleep. Everything happens for a Reason. I needed to see it. The Reason was clear. I was truly another kind of revenant ("...one that returns after death or a long absence." - Marriam Webster). This Homecoming would be that return.
PLEASE CLICK ON OUR SPONSOR ADS BELOW FOR GREAT DEALS!
_______________________________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________________________
PLEASE CLICK ON OUR NON-PROFIT CAUSES TO SUPPORT YOUR COMMUNITY!
_______________________________________________________________________
Support Dawna Lamson's Simply Smiles fundraising campaign!
From her page...
Help me support Simply Smiles by making a donation to my Win A Trip campaign! With your help, you can send me to Oaxaca, Mexico or the Cheyenne River Reservation in South Dakota to work with Simply Smiles. The process is fast, easy, and secure. I truly appreciate any support you can provide. And, no matter the outcome, it will benefit a great cause!
If you can't make a donation at this point, help me reach my goal by sharing this page on Facebook and Twitter! Or, even better, send an e-mail to friends you think might be interested in contributing and include a link to my page!
Thanks so much for your generosity!
This will be a wonderful opportunity for Dawna to provide a brighter future for impoverished children, their families, and their communities. It's easy to give! Just click on Dawna's picture below.
_______________________________________________________________________
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.