José And I Went Camping

Tonight at around six, I threw together what camping gear I have, strapped it all to José, and took off to the unknown. As it turns out, there is some unknown close to home, and that's where I'm writing this now. From somewhere I don't know.

By the time I got to the provincial campground, it was well full. The first night of a long weekend in Canada. I really should have predicted this. But as I was leaving the campground, I found a narrow graveled path blocked off by some rocks. I moved them out of the way, rode my motorcycle through, and moved them back. Scouting out the area, I found that up ahead was an intersection with a mountain bike course. Near there is where I've set up camp for the night.

My tent is about 15 meters from a quiet mountain road, with José resting vigilantly right outside. There is infrequent traffic going to and from the campground, which will stop once the gates close at 11. So until they open again at 6, I will be perfectly alone.

As I lay here in my tent with frogs chirping to my left and distant twigs snapping to my right, being alone isn't as great a benefit as it was before. I'm beginning to become concerned with wildlife. Bears and cougars in particular. I've decided that this is a realistic possibility; fortunately, I have also decided that I've taken adequate precautions. First, I cooked my dinner approximately 30 meters from my tent and left any scented remains there. Second, I am really, really hoping the first thing works.

From the security of my sleeping bag and tent - (comprising literally millimeters of protection!) - I think of ways to improve my camping experience. Things like researching wildlife in the area, a perimeter sensor system of fishing line and bells, and good ol' bear spray. Also, using retrospective common sense, setting up a tent that blocks off a cutline might be inconveniencing something much bigger and meaner than myself.

I doubt I'll sleep well tonight. I know José is right outside and that any wildlife will be immediately deterred if I trigger the alarm. But still, as I clutch the remote control, I think of years of predatory evolution. Savage machines of muscle and claws and fangs.

Thank god for these opposable thumbs.