Ritual behaviors can take many guises, but beneath, there invariably lays an element of forging or strengthening a bond, a renewal of connectedness. It may seem mundane to some, but for us, preparing for a backpacking adventure involves distinctly ritualistic protocol and it is performed in a fairly consistent pattern. It is much more meaningful than simply routine and there is an increasing sense of anticipation that accompanies our performance. We have choreographed tasks that we move through with nearly effortless ease and experience. David always packs the gear and makes sure that we have a stove (or three), fuel, headlamps, cameras, batteries, sleeping bags and pads and any other necessary accessories. I rummage about in the kitchen and ensure that we have our meals, teas (AscenTea™ and DescenTea™), Hydraulic™, Hike™, and that we are well-nourished as we venture forth. Our ritual is comforting, joyful, and one that is practiced with thoughtfulness and attention to detail.
This weekend we enjoyed a brief but very welcomed respite in the Catalina Mountains. I really needed the immersion into nature and there was a beautiful full moon for added incentive. The previously scouted location was perfectly suited to our needs, and we look forward to returning again soon. Our campsite was surrounded by pine trees, with a fragrant needle carpet to provide cushion for our tent and an extremely pleasant redolence triggered by our every step. At the onset, we were frequently inspected by numerous hummingbirds because of our brightly colored clothing and tent but they soon discovered our lack of available nectar. David had to relocate a scorpion to a rock a bit farther from our claimed territory after discovering it while arranging a cooking area. A lone deer wandered nearby, seemingly unconcerned about the new neighbors. We snapped our initial photos and went about setting up camp.
While there was a predicted threat of impending monsoon rains, we were only lightly doused with a bit of moisture on our way up the mountain and magically, just as David zipped the tent door closed for the night, we heard a light tapping on the roof as rain fell again, gentle cascades of percussion to lull us to sleep. By morning, our peaceful locale was dry and crisp, with a multitude of birds going about their daily business and a complete lack of the annoyances of city life. The calm, quiet air was occasionally punctuated by chirps, whistles, and the hammering of woodpeckers, but there was not a barking dog, loud human voice, vehicle noise, or siren to be heard. It was wonderful.
David has a habit on these kinds of mornings to grab the camera and his cup of tea and wander off into the wilderness, encouraging me to lounge in the hammock and try to redeem some of my missed relaxation after a busy week. I admit, it is not difficult for him to convince me, and the slow swaying of the hammock, the view of the surrounding woods with Tucson sprawling far below, and the musical accompaniment of the feathered orchestra soon left me dozing with reckless abandon. David gets some of his best photos during these times and often returns with tales of the animals that he encounters or interesting bits of nature. Typically, we then make our breakfast and this outing meant some tasty Ere the Dawn™ cereal to fuel our day. There is simply nothing like eating your breakfast outside, from a titanium cup, ensconced in the natural world, with the love of your life at your side.
There is a moment from the previous evening that seems appropriate to share and I found it to be quite hilarious in a way. As we happily munched on our dinner, David was obviously finding his to be delicious and he looked at me and said,” This is better than you make at home”. A qualifying statement is in order at this point which is that David loves my cooking and he did not mean this in an adverse manner. I gazed back at him, head tilted slightly in that confused canine type of way and asked for clarification. He told me that the flavor was amazing and got even better as he got to the bottom of his cup and I replied something about perhaps he should have stirred his meal as I suggested to distribute the seasonings. David was perfectly satisfied with having the intensity of his entrée increase as he neared the finale, but I was equally fulfilled by my evenly flavored dish. I thought perhaps it would rehydrate more evenly if stirred but David had an acceptably hydrated dinner without being littered by crunchy bits in spite of just having added the water and ignoring it until he picked up his utensil and dug in. Moral of the story? Stir if you want, don’t if you don’t. Our Wild Drake cuisine is more tolerant of human idiosyncrasies than I realized.
Our short jaunt was exactly what I desperately needed and I feel much more capable of facing the world, empowered and refreshed. I’m sure a nap in the hammock didn’t hurt either. We crave these outings and immediately began planning for the next possibility. Wilderness calls to us in a kind of Thoreau-like voice, and there are undertones of Aldo Leopold, Edward Abbey, and others that provide background depth. We require the natural world in a way that almost defies explanation and emerge with determination to return as soon as possible. Ostensibly, backpacking is fantastic exercise that leads us to gorgeous vistas and it can be quite an adventure at times. For David and I, hiking, and especially backpacking, are intrinsically linked to our souls and provide a replenishment that is not to be found in our modern lives. We revel in the most diminutive moments, of the footprints of animals, the graceful swooping dives of the bats at dusk, the deepening glow of sunset, the rustling of tree limbs in the breeze, the determination of the ants to gain access into our food supplies, the indignant arching of the tiny worm that was crawling on David’s sleeve as he attempted to move it to safety, and these conjoin to form a saturated, sensual experience. We are going back next weekend, and hope that you can heed the call of the wild soon as well!
Reach Your Summit!