I wrote this Saturday morning, after getting some sleep and looking back on the first day of my recent camping trip.

The work day ended on Friday in a purposeful push to finish everything and remember each commitment, each loose end. I managed it, and it felt like an achievement unlocked. My attention immediately turned to finishing loading the car and saying sweet loving goodbyes…

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

… I always forget something. This time it turned out to be batteries. Well, more accurately, when I checked my gear I failed to test my headlamp or my little camp lantern. Dumb. I’m getting ahead of myself – that discovery was later.

It was not a given that I’d find a suitable camping spot. Without exaggeration, every reservable camp site within a three hour drive from where I live was reserved, for all of the dates I had available! My next step was looking for camp grounds that are exclusively first come/first served. There turn out to be several in the big state forest north and west of my home. Okay, so it’s an adventure, and I set off eagerly.

… you’re not waiting for an “and then…” twist, are you? It was a lovely drive, and almost no traffic. I arrived when I expected to. I circled one loop, then the next. I could hear my Traveling Partner’s doubtful tone when he advised me that everything would be full. I stayed hopeful. I’d try the walk-in tent sites, and hope that they aren’t half a mile into the forest, all down hill.

I stopped at the pay kiosk and took a slip, and filled out everything but the site number and started walking. At long last, and feet already hurting, I see one that isn’t occupied! I start toward it. A frantic plump woman of a mommy age rushes past me and quickly clips her receipt to the numbered post and turns to me simultaneously challenging and somewhat embarrassed. “I already saw this, I went to get a slip is all. I was already here!” I shrug and walk on, limping a bit. I was already resigned to finding a more remote site in the disbursed camping area when I walked up on an empty site from behind. For real?! I’m almost relieved but also a little wary. I check the post. Nothing. I clip my receipt there after writing the site number on it.

So relieved. I sit down at the picnic table and drink some water.

A woman approaches me looking frustrated and waves the white slip of her receipt, telling me in broken English that she had seen this site first and only walked away to get her receipt. I drank water, and pointed to the numbered post with my receipt clipped to it. I had read the camp rules; no reservations, first come first served, someone must be occupying the site to claim it, or their gear must be present, no holding a vacant site for someone else. I felt her frustration, I had felt it myself moments ago. I definitely prefer being able to reserve a spot.

The painfully slow process of getting my gear to the site on one foot with plantar fasciitis and the knee on the other leg being quite obnoxiously unpredictable, began with real determination. It was slow going, and before I’d made two trips I was already tired and really feeling the limitations pain places on my abilities. This is one of the exceedingly rare circumstances when I truly regret my lost youth. I definitely could have done more, better. We don’t know what we don’t know. That 27 year old powerhouse physique would come in handy right now. Hell, roll the clock back to 55, this wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Today? I find myself wondering if this may be my last solo camping trip altogether…

… Beginnings imply endings, and we are mortal creatures…

Getting my basic gear to the site took three trips. Then two more because I forgot stuff I’d definitely want tonight or first thing in the morning. Another back and forth for coffee beans, and my portable grinder. It was after all that, that I discovered neither my headlamp nor my camp light would light up. In one case, the batteries were exhausted. The other had no batteries at all. I made the trek to the parking lot again, and a trip a mile down the road to Lee’s Camp Store. I’m glad I did. My beloved sent me his love and told me he misses me, and it finally reached me. (No WiFi or connectivity in the forest.) A nice way to end the day.

Oh, it wasn’t actually late, I was just fucking exhausted. 😆 I knew I’d get a fresh start in the morning. For the rest of that Friday evening, I focused on getting off my feet and getting some rest. Beginnings could wait.