I awoke to the warm glow of sunshine on my face. Having set up camp in the dark, I really didn’t know what to expect upon opening my eyes. Light filtered through the dense trees alighting the moss in an amber green glow. The forest was lush and lively. I laid still, simply soaking in the beauty.
I’ve been reading a lot about routines lately. About how beneficial they can be. About how many successful people are dedicated to theirs. I had high hopes of establishing one myself, but it never really happened.
On the road, though, each day is bookended with routine. Camp up. Camp down. Even when I’m tired. Whether it’s early or late. Even if I don’t feel like doing it. It’s requisite. And so I, too, now have a routine.
Baylor moseyed around the site while I tore down. He gave out a growl and bark. I looked up to scold him and instead took note of the large shape moving along the forest trail. A large bear lumbering along less than 100 yards away. Bay barked one more time, the bear looked over, paused and then continued on his way.
I took down camp, not letting Baylor out of my site. Made a mental note to add the bear spray to the camp bag. Apparently it doesn’t do much good when it’s in the rig a quarter mile away.
After getting a second, coffee-induced, burst of energy in Whistler we drove into the warm evening. As dark set in the differences between van life and sidecar life became even more apparent. When road tripping in the van or truck, I just go until exhausted, pulling off any place to climb into the back to sleep. Turns out that’s a bit more awkward with Rufio.
With nightfall closing in I wanted to find a sleep spot pronto. We pulled over to look at the map. And I realized another valuable lesson. Maps don’t do much good if you haven’t kept track of where you actually are.
With only a vague idea of our location I pulled off on the very next dirt road, having decided side-of-the-road camping was the best option.
Lessons learned, I set up camp in my least favorite type of location. Not really wilderness, yet not a comfortably populated campground either. That in-between. Where the people, according to 97% of all horror movies, have poor dental plans and large chainsaws.
I lay down with a knife in my pocket, clutching the bear spray like a well-loved blankie. Within minutes I was fast asleep.
8 days down. Many to come.
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