My wife and I have different tasks to perform before vacation. She plans the itinerary, plots the route, finds and reserves the motel rooms, contacts family members to tell them we are coming and buys the snacks and drinks we might need. I look for new video apps to document our journey and assemble playlists so we can have some groovy music.
Thank God she has me.
This year we are going a long way, all the way to an isolated mountain top in Montana. It is so remote you have to park a mile from the cabin and hike the rest of the way. Though from the look of the aerial photograph the trail is probably less than a half of a mile but it weaves back and forth. A narrow path cut between precipitous drops into tree-covered valleys and steep, straight, sharp rock walls.
But, that might be my imagination.
The best part of the hike, up the side of the mountain, is carrying water, food, sleeping bags, a machete (in case we have to cut trail) cameras, binoculars, phones, laptops, everything you might need. Or not need, as the case might be. All while keeping an eye open for bears, mountain lions, snakes, all those things that find nature so comfortable. I’m all for communing with my spirit animal but I want to keep it more professional, less dine and dash. And, I definitely don’t want to b.
It gets better when we finally get there. No electricity, water, plumbing or WiFi. We sleep on cots eat food cooked in the can on a propane stove and drink warm water. I won’t even offend you with the details of what a “pit toilet” requires in the way of personal commitment.
If you add the three brutal days of driving from Ohio to Montana you begin to wonder about my sanity. I mean who would spend 31 hours in a car to sleep on a cot and drink a bottle of tepid wine? I would, I guess.
It is mostly because of my wife. She found out about these decommissioned fire lookout stations across the country and she locked in on this one with a frightening laser focus. It is rented on a first-come first-served basis. And you can only apply six months ahead of time. Every time she tried it was taken. Then one day she called and said she got it. She was so excited. I panicked. How many things could go wrong?
I started increasing the angle on the treadmill at the gym. I should have grabbed a bag filled with bottles of water, cans of beans, some instant coffee and pretended I was battling off a pack of grey wolves with nothing but my walking stick and will to survive. Here is a fun fact; According to the CDC Montana has more animal-related deaths than any other state. I’m not going down without a fight.
But, it will be nice to get away, and this is about as far as you can actually get away and still be in the US. I read a quote that was attributed to Jerry Garcia, Dead guitarist/vocalist extraordinaire; “Sometimes you find yourself in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes in the middle of nowhere you find yourself.” I don’t know if he really said it, but it sounds like something he would have said. Plus, it seems to be almost perfect, a closed-loop, a perfect program. The world is filled with lost souls looking for a place to stop and reconnect. It is probably one of the reasons for all the anger. Nobody knows where they are anymore.
So, in a lot of ways, this is going to be a lot of work, but it will be fun, and I need it. Shit is getting too heavy these days. I live for the times between tasks, between commutes, the few empty minutes modern life allows. There is always something, an email, a phone call, something that wants a reaction, demands a response.
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction has gone nuclear. Every action requires an escalation. Email chains that started years ago bounce around and grow and boomerang back and you have to pay the toll to play.
Once in a while, you have to get away. Sometimes a day or two is enough, but sometimes it has to be miles and days and almost the middle of nowhere. This is one of those times.
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