Drama at Campsite #74

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Camping in a national park? Cooking food in the outdoors? Packing appropriate gear to stay warm and comfortable? No problem! We weren’t concerned about any of these issues. My boyfriend and I reserved a campsite at Yosemite National Park and considered ourselves better prepared and more hardcore than the average camper. That all changed the first night we set up camp at Site #74 in the Upper Pines Region.

Although it was dark by the time we started to pitch the tent, our headlamps provided enough light to get set up for the night. After a full day of hiking the Upper Yosemite Falls trail, we were exhausted and ready to kick back around a campfire and put our newly purchased Jetboil Sol Stove to use for dinner.

Earlier that day, we picked up some firewood and a book of matches at the Curry Village Shop and collected a few newspapers to provide kindling for the fire. It was around 8:30 and the temperatures seemed to be dropping by the minute. The cashier at the village shop warned us that it was supposed to get down to thirty-five degrees that night, so getting a campfire started was essential.

One by one, my boyfriend struck a match, lit a piece of newspaper, and tried to get the wood to catch a flame. One by one, each attempt failed. Gusts of wind seemed to mock him with each strike of the match.

Without offering much of my own assistance, I looked around at all of the happy campers nearby with fires blazing. “How can all of them get their fires started and we can’t?” I whined.

These unsuccessful attempts and whining remarks continued for another half hour. Eventually, I reached my breaking point and stomped off towards a neighboring campsite with a blazing campfire. I heard my boyfriend’s footsteps shuffling behind me, as he shivered and cursed under his breath.

I mustered up my friendliest tone of voice and introduced us to a young couple reclining in comfortable chairs and roasting smores over their campfire. They greeted us with a friendly handshake and introduced themselves as Jen and David from Denver. After a slightly awkward pause, I got to the point and asked them how they got their fire going so well. David reached over to hand me a bottle of lighter fluid and told us to go give it a try.

With cautious optimism, we walked back to our campsite, poured the remaining lighter fluid on the wood, and took a step back. Withing seconds, the entire pit was ablaze! We screamed with delight, hugging and high-fiving each other as we danced around the fire pit with little regard for “quiet hours”.

We skipped back over to Jen and David’s campsite with the empty can of lighter fluid to thank them for helping us not freeze to death. They replied that they were happy to help and we we wished them a good night’s sleep. We were so excited to be able to use our new camp cookware and made a romantic gourmet dinner over the tiny propane tank. Ramen noodles and cinnamon oatmeal had never tasted as good as they did that night.

After spending the day next day exploring the the Vernal and Nevada Falls trails, we stopped by the valley shop with a renewed sense of confidence in our fire starting abilities. Much to our disappointment, the store had no lighter fluid in stock! We decided to try out some fire sticks as an alternative.

The fire sticks worked perfectly and we had a fire blazing with hardly any frustration! We roasted Italian sausages on the grill, polished off a six-pack of local beer, and roasted marshmallows over the flames for dessert.  Even though it was still thirty-five degrees outside, we didn’t really that night. We pulled our tent pulled up next to the fire (our fire!), held each other close, and fell into a deep restful sleep.

Adopting the Philosophy of the Manatees

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“It’s twenty-seven degrees? No, no. There’s no way in hell I’m getting into water when it’s twenty-seven degrees out. Isn’t it supposed to be warm in Florida?”

“But there’s manatees, Alyssa. Manatees! You’ve been talking non-stop about swimming with them this whole trip,” my boyfriend said as he turned on the seat warmers. “Don’t you remember all those articles we read about manatees needing warm water temperatures to survive? I bet you six dollars and three cents that the water temperature is warmer than the air temperature.”

After enduring another cold and snowy Chicago winter, taking a trip to warm and sunny Florida seemed like the perfect way to spend Valentine’s Day.  It was just my luck to plan an outdoor adventure during a record-setting cold front.

My mind wandered to a chapter in 5th grade science class about manatees where I first learned about the endangered creatures. I vividly remembered Mrs. Dolan’s lesson about manatees’ habitat, how they communicated, and conservation laws that protect the species. Years later,  After a thorough review of all the touristy websites, I booked a tour with American Pro Diving to snorkel with manatees in the Homosassa River.

Shortly after I booked and pre-paid for a fun-filled day of manatee encounters, my boyfriend came across an article alleging that our guide company was abusive towards these endangered animals. The authors claimed to have seen video footage of mother manatees being separated by their calves and children carelessly riding on top of them. This made me uneasy but then again, how much stake can you really put in four-year-old articles posted on the Internet by strangers?

After we arrived at the gear shop, we squeezed into wet suits, and laughed at each other while trying on snorkels and flippers in fron of the mirror. Our guide introduced himself, as well as the other family of five that would be joining our tour. Then we all sat down in the shop to watch an informational video about the proper way to interact with the manatees before boarding the boat.

It was freezing cold outside, but our guide kept reassuring us that once we got in the water that we would be much more comfortable. After a short ride, the boat stopped and we were instructed one by one to take the ladder down the water and start looking for manatees.

We didn’t exactly have to look for them at all, as the manatees were everywhere. Within a few minutes, one swam up and bumped into me and I saw another underneath of me. I couldn’t stop squealing in a wild combination of excitement and surprise. Their skin was smooth and slimy. Their bodies were massive. Their demeanor was calm and peaceful.

This is also the moment that I learned that my boyfriend was terrified of water. I couldn’t believe he didn’t tell me this before we even set out on this trip. But there he was…clinging on to the side of the boat with his eyes squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and his whole body shaking.

I assumed that he was having a miserable time and that he wouldn’t even get to see a manatee at all. Little did I know, manatees love the sides of boats. As I swam over to keep him company, I saw that he was surrounded by three manatees that seemed to be hugging him with comforting affection. Once I saw that he was laughing and taking photos with his underwater camera, I felt I could go exploring the river to meet as many of these creatures as I could.

Our guide and the other family followed the basic rules of manatee encounters: let them come to you first because they are friendly and they will anyway, whether you want them to or not. The water temperature was a comfortable seventy degrees and I hated the thought of leaving this warm water and these magnificently strange creatures.

But alas, we only paid for a three-hour tour so before we knew it, our guide was calling us back to the boat and taking his final video shots of our interactions. Everyone climbed back up the ladder, toweled off, and warmed up with some extra layers and some hot chocolate on board.

At first, I was worried about manatee abuse, but there was none. Then, I was worried about the cold temperatures, but the water was the most comfortable place we could be. Finally, I was worried about my non-aquatic boyfriend, but he had as much fun as I did and got some spectacular photos.

After docking the boat and walking back into the gear shop, I fell in love with a plush manatee backpack from the gift shop that was clearly meant for child. However, it reminded me of how the manatees made me smile as a kid back in science class and even today.

My new manatee backpack accompanied my boyfriend and I, as we bundled up in hats and gloves to lounge on the beach. For once, I wasn’t worried that sand was too chilly or that we didn’t have beach towels. Those blob-like creatures helped me remember that there’s no room for worry on vacation.

A Trip Back Home to Arthur, Illinois

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All I’d ever wanted was to escape the Amish town I’d spent my entire life in. I’m not Amish, but for some reason, my parents chose to move there after I was born. College was the best excuse to escape this village of Arthur, Illinois, which seemed to be centered in the exact middle of nowhere. But it was Thanksgiving break, a time for obligatory family visits. So RJ, my roommate and best friend since preschool, and made the three and a half hour southbound journey.

“I’m losing an ounce of freedom every mile you drive,” RJ muttered under his breath.

Before we even crossed the county line, a familiar smell started seeping in my truck. Horse shit. Arthur always reeked of horse shit. Those damn Amish horse and buggies practically outnumber the cars down here. Gray clouds hung over the harvested farm fields as we passed the sign, “Arthur: Population 2,100.”

Following mandatory family dinners and ignoring my mom’s advice that “Nothing good happens after dark”, RJ and I thought it would be amusing to check out the lone bar in Arthur, The Heidelberg. As we walked in, a buggy blasting Bon Jovi from a battery-operated stereo clip-clopped  by. At least Rumspringa,  the time when Amish youths got to briefly experience the real world, hadn’t changed a bit. Oddly, that “real world” always involved 80’s music, 90’s clothing, and outdated haircuts.

The Heidelberg was dark and smoky, but packed full of almost-forgotten faces.

“Isn’t that Paul Singer’s mom?” RJ questioned as he sipped a watered down rum and coke.

“Oh my god…Jennifer got fat! Wait! Is that a baby in the bar?” I yanked his sleeve and pointed.

Former classmates stopped to chat about their factory jobs at Schrock’s, the local cabinet company, and the latest scripture studies at Bible study. RJ and I were practically the only two in our class to go to college. For the first time, it was difficult relate to these people we used to be so close to. That was the first and last time we ever went to The Heidelberg.

We hopped in my truck, I turned the key, but nothing happened. Again. Nothing.  A dead battery? How could I have left my headlights on?  Barely two minutes passed before Glen, the one and only Arthur cop, pulled up beside me.

“You two! Never thought I’d see the likes of ya’ll ‘round here again!” Glen exclaimed.

Glen hooked jumper cables to my truck until it was running. I dropped off RJ, pulled into my parents’ garage, and quietly slipped through the back door.

The next morning when I got out of the shower, Mom and Dad were standing in the doorway with their arms crossed and stern expressions.

“So you come home just to drive around drunk and get yourself stranded in the middle of the night, huh? That’s your idea being thankful for the parents who gave you everything?!” Dad hissed with sarcastic rage.

Apparently Police Office Glen ran into my dad at the hardware store earlier that morning and jokingly commented about saving his daughter outside that “scary” bar.  Gossip travels fast in a town like Arthur. My parents will never stop being overprotective. And this town will always smell like horse shit.

Snowboarding Towards Better Days

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As I jolt awake, I slam my head against the cheap motel headboard and let out a scream.

Surely, there’s a nicer way to wake someone up. This is our first vacation together, after all. But oddly enough  I’m not all that surprised he had turned the alarm clock on full blast at 6AM.

My boyfriend is already dressed in his snow gear and looking up directions to the ski resort on his iPhone.  I beg for just nine more minutes of snooze time. After all, my flight to Denver had just arrived a mere six hours ago! My request is flatly denied, as the covers are thrown off of me and I crawl towards my overstuffed duffel bag.

I chug a Red Bull, gnaw on a Cliff Bar, and take my first glimpse of the Colorado Rockies as we pack up and pull out of the parking lot. As I drive up the winding roads to Copper Mountain, I open my eyes wider than they had been in months. Looking forward to this snowboarding trip with my boyfriend had been the only thing that had gotten me through the worst breakup I’d ever been through and a miserable nine-to-five job. I glance at my watch and see that it’s not even 9AM yet. I smile as I remember that today will not be spent in that godforsaken office..

I park the car and we take the shuttle to the slopes. I’m doing my best to hide how nervous I am, as I try to remember how to strap my boots on to the board. I just started snowboarding last year, and my ex-boyfriend was a painfully impatient and critical coach. I feel my boyfriend playfully knocking the edge of his board against mine. Remembering my deep yoga breaths, I flop onto the ski lift and grab his gloved hand.

I quickly discover that he is a professional on the slopes, and he quickly discovers that I spend more time on my ass than on the board.  I notice how patient he is with me after each of my wipe outs and breakdowns. But shortly thereafter, we decide to split up for the afternoon, promising to meet after the lifts make their last run.

I return to the same green trail for my second attempt, which is going only slightly better than the last one. I fall only three times, and despite my unsightly technique, I’m feeling more comfortable gaining speed. I decide that for my final trail, I will challenge myself on one of the dreadful blue routes. I stumble off of the lift and scurry towards the side to get out of everyone else’s way. I feel a wave of nausea, as I strap on my boots and stand up to see how far down the bottom is. With the  warmth of the sun on my face, I take a deep breath before attempting the most difficult trail of my life.

I fall once, twice, three times, and then more than I can count. I burst into tears from my frustration. My knees are bleeding and my tailbone feels broken. Other boarders whiz by me, and and occasionally ask if I’m alright. I take a seat in the snow and pull my camera out of my inside jacket pocket. I feel my heart rate slow down and snap a few pictures of the beautiful scenery around me.My heart rate slows down and I remember I’m luck to be here. I’ll never make it to the X Games, but I’m having an experience that I’ll never forget. I pop in my ear buds and crank up some Linkin Park, ready to conquer this mountain.

Everything feels simpler and I only fall once before reaching the bottom. I feel satisfaction accomplished for the first time today. I limp my exhausted self into the nearest pub, belly up to the bar, letting a whiskey and ginger ale request effortlessly roll off my tongue.

I knock back a couple whiskey drinks to ease my tender wounds and tensed nerves. By the time my second glass is empty, my boyfriend plops onto the bar stool next to me, telling grandiose tales of each mountain he conquered.  I listen and summon the waitress to order him a whiskey on the rocks to celebrate before we head out for some much-needed hot tub therapy.

It’s dark by the time we drive back to Frisco, but I still stare out the window to capture the rare glimpses of the mountains that shine through the headlights. We sit in peaceful silence, as my boyfriend flips on our favorite XM Radio bluegrass station.

Six months ago, I never would have imagined I would be right here right now.   I rub my bruised knees, lean back in the passenger seat, and bob my head to the banjo beats. It’s crazy to know you’re right where you’re meant to be. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be right where you’re supposed to be.

Camping at Kickapoo State Park – Vermilion County, Illinois

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Kickapoo State Park is a 2,842 acre recreation area in East Central Illinois that runs along the Vermilion River. This area is surrounded by farmland and has twenty-two deep water ponds nearby. This park provides a playground for boaters, fishers, and kayakers in the area.

After an adventure-filled day of off-road “Jeeping” at The Badlands in Attica, Indiana, my boyfriend and I camped for one night at nearby Kickapoo State Park. We chose Kickapoo State Park instead of other nearby campsites around Lafayette, Indiana because of the wooded terrain, access to fishing, and availability of rental canoe/kayak gear.

*Campground Features*

  • 184 campsites, about half with electrical hookups, as well as primitive walk-up sites
  • $10 for non-electric sites and $20 for electric sites
  • Two shower buildings

*Nearby Terrain*

  • Mostly flat land, but more hills than pretty much the rest of the state.
  • Semi-clear water in the Vermilion River and small surrounding lakes.
  • Tiny sand and rock beaches located at the end of fishing piers.

*Reservations*

  • Reservations are required seven days in advance, but sites are generally available because this destination isn’t in high demand.
  • A ranger is only on duty for check in until 4:00pm, however the campsites are fully accessible after hours.

*Cleanliness*

  • Bathrooms are cleaner than those in most state parks I have seen.
  • Water spicket areas are working and well maintained.
  • Very minimal litter and well groomed and weeded grasslands .

*Crowds*

  • Primarily families that include small children and a few dogs
  • Quiet hours start at 10:00pm, and we noticed the noise level subsided before 11:00pm

*Activities*

  • Fishing – Most common fish caught here are bass, channel catfish, bluegill, crappie and sunfish.
  • Hiking/Running – The 7.6-mile running and hiking trail is rated “difficult” and designed for experienced outdoor hikers or runners, passing through forests, bottom-lands and the edge areas of abandoned croplands.
  • Canoeing and kayaking  – Available for rent on this calm water at the concession area seven days a week.
  • Mountain biking – Rugged terrain of 12 miles and only recommended for experienced mountain bikers due to narrow passageways and uncleared terrain.
  • Hunting – Most common animals hunted include white-tailed deer, quail, and pheasant.
  • Scuba Diving – This is one of the very few Illinois waterways that allows scuba diving of any kind.
  • Horseback riding – Casual rides and lessons offered 10 miles away at Middle Fork State Fish and Wildlife Area
  • Winter activities include ice fishing, ice skating, cross country skiing, and sledding

*My Experience *

I was pleased with the well-maintained fishing and boating areas, as well as the privacy between the campsites. There was plenty of canoes, kayaks, and tubes in great condition to rent from the concession stand.

The concession stand was more like a small restaurant because it was open from 7am to 9pm every day and offered a full breakfast, lunch, and dinner menu at reasonable costs. We never saw a single park ranger on duty or patrolling the grounds at any time. Because this campsite is very family -oriented, we were periodically disturbed by the screaming children at neighboring campsites. However, the sites were far enough away from each other to make this occasional noise tolerable.

The bathroom and shower facilities were above average in terms of cleanliness and accessibility compared to most campsites that I have seen. Water spickets with safe drinking water were readily available and working well at several places within the grounds. Well-maintained wooden decks and benches lined the waterways to provide stable fishing from the docks.

Although I grew up just a couple hours from this area, I had never visited this particular park or campground before. East Central Illinois is generally a rather dull place with little to no available outdoor recreation. However, I found Kickapoo State Park to be an exception to my familiar perception and enjoyed this small glimpse of nature to tide me over until my next outdoor adventure.

Gnomish Encounters of a Swiss Variety

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I recently traveled to Switzerland to do some sightseeing and take a vacation from the daily grind back in Chicago. At least one of my gnomes always tags along me when I travel, because as I have learned, gnomes love adventure and they are extremely photogenic.

I arrived in Zürich, Switzerland on a chilly February evening and began to explore the city.  As I passed techno clubs and artsy lounges, a flash of color caught my eye in an alley…an alley that seemed no different than other alley in Zürich, Chicago, or anywhere else in between.

Lo and behold, what do I see? Dozens of life-sized gnomes extending from one end of the alley to the other! I squealed with delight and ran up to greet them with my best fake Swiss accent. I was so thrilled to meet them that I could barely hold my camera still enough to snap a shot. My travel companion, who happened to my boyfriend at the time, looked at me with a familiar sense of confusion. He had never understood my fascination with gnomes. Ignoring his blank stare, I shoved my camera into is hands and nodded towards the gnomes, still too excited to form actual words.

I scoured the premises, but try as I might, I could find no explanation of where these gnomes came from and why they lived here. There were no signs to explain their presence and no one around to even ask. I chalked it up to the general mystery that surrounds all gnome-kind and proceeded to enjoy the rest of my vacation.

When I arrived back home, I was determined to get to the bottom of these mysterious Swiss gnomes and expose the secret that I felt compelled to discover. Despite countless hours on the Internet, my research turned up absolutely nothing! It was as if I was the only person who encountered them!

Just as I was throwing in the towel, I came across a Wikipedia article entitled “Gnomes of Zürich”. Was this the key to my mystery? According to the article, “Gnomes of Zürich is a disparaging term for Swiss bankers. Swiss bankers are popularly associated with extremely secretive policies, while gnomes in fairy tales live underground, in secret, counting their riches. Zürich is the commercial center of Switzerland.”

I conducted further investigation about these so-called gnomes.  I became infuriated that “gnome” was a hostile catchphrase propagated in the 1960’s and associated with greed, deceit, and secrecy.

My gnomish discovery was a political statement! This was not just another familiar case of gnomes appearing in unexpected places. No, no, no. By pure chance, I stumbled upon a piece of history that I would have otherwise never encountered!

Gnome lovers, be warned.  The Swiss are attempting to ruin the reputation of our sacred gnomes. This means war.

Planning Your First Outdoor Rock Climbing Adventure

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Some rock climbers are satisfied standing in line at the gym’s check-in desk, squinting to distinguish between colors of faded tape routes, and making do with overused rental gear. However, most climbers I know crave the freedom of the outdoors, the challenge of the uncertain terrain, and the serenity you can only find in the mountains.

So you and your friends have been scampering up the walls at your local rock climbing gym for awhile now, eh? There’s been some chatter about doing one of those outdoor climbing trips you all keep seeing posters about behind the check-in desk. With a little research and a lot of guts, you can be well on your way to your first outdoor summit. Here are a few things to consider…

LOCATION: SO WHERE DO YOU WANT TO CLIMB?

Some of the best rock climbing in the United States is in Kentucky, Colorado, California, and Utah. However, there is great climbing in unexpected areas, such as Southern Illinois and Western Pennsylvania. Discuss how far your group is willing to travel and how much time you have to spend on your climbing adventure. One of the best online resources to browse and find climbing in your area is Mountain Project.

SKILL LEVEL: BE HONEST, ARE YOU ANY GOOD?

Once you decide on a location, be sure to read about the terrain and conditions to determine if the location has routes that are within your skill level. If you like, you can go the old-school route and pick up a guide book to read all about the ratings, pitches, elevation, and comments from other climbers. Many guidebooks can be found on a Amazon.

If you’ve never climbed anything harder than a 5.7, you probably don’t want to take your first climbing trip to the Eiger. The important thing is to not be intimidated by outdoor climbing because the many mountains offer something for everyone at every skill level. Be mindful of each person in your group so that everyone can be challenged and enjoy themselves.

GUIDE COMPANIES: CORPORATE VS. LOCAL

There are usually several guide companies in popular climbing destinations. For your first few outdoor trips, you should definitely be accompanied by experienced climbing instructors. A simple Google search for climbing guide companies in your chosen destination is a great starting point. Some guide companies are more like corporate institutions that crank out guided tours on a daily basis. “Mom and pop shops” are family-owned small businesses that have made a living out of their passion.

Corporate guide companies generally have more informative websites, offer fixed rates with scheduled times, and guarantee certified guides.  Smaller family-owned guide companies can be friendlier to work with, more accommodating for groups schedules, and offer a more intimate glimpse into the climbing culture. After reviewing and comparing what a couple different guide websites have to offer, one member of your group should email or call the company directly to introduce your group and ask specific questions.

COST: NOT EXACTLY THE CHEAPEST SPORT IN THE WORLD

You should verify with the guide companies that you are researching if there are any discounts or additional costs based upon your group size. Most companies offer trips for half days, three-quarter days, full days, or multiple days. You should assess how hardcore your group is and what your overall budget allows. Does your crew have their own gear? If not, you will need to ask the guide companies about rental fees for climbing shoes, harnesses, carabiners, belay devices, chalk bags, and rope.

 

ACCOMMODATIONS? WHERE THE HECK WILL YOU SLEEP?

So you’ve gotten the details squared away!  You’ve picked your location, assessed your skill level, chosen your guide company, and selected the most cost-effective climbing package for your group’s needs. Congratulations, the hard part is over!

Now, does your group like to camp? Or would they rather stay at the Holiday Inn down the road for a soft bed and hot tub time after an exhausting day? By now, you probably know your climbing buddies well enough to answer these questions, but it never hurts to ask. Definitely make campsite and/or hotel reservations as soon as you’ve confirmed your location because no one wants to be homeless or sleeping in the car after conquering the world.

Once you’ve experienced climbing in the beauty and challenge of nature, I’m guessing you’ll find it as difficult as I did to drag yourself up to that check-in desk with your punch card and spell your last name three times until you’re located in the computer. Although organizing an outdoor trip for the first time can be intimidating, climbers tend to be the kind of people who are willing to offer useful tips and help guide you to immerse yourself into the sport and the culture.