Several months ago I was getting bogged down in work and other work-related time stealers. Having done a little bit of car camping combined with short hikes and geocaching, I decided it was time to hit the trail. As a youngster I enjoyed hiking and camping as a Boy Scout. The time seemed right to return to a more primitive form of recreation.
So I started on the long arduous task of figuring out just what it was I needed. I like quality stuff but that doesn’t mean I break the bank on the latest and greatest unobtanium gear. You see, I’m also kind of a tightwad at times. It didn’t make sense to me that, in an effort to become luddite, people spend thousands of dollars. I wasn’t going to be one of those guys.
After returning from a trip to North Georgia and knocking off a few miles on the AT, I did some googling around and came across a thru-hiker blog, Allen F. Allen bragged about how much he enjoyed his hammock. It was a Hennessy. The premise sounded intriguing.
Several months later I had my pack, bag, stove, water containers, shoes, a few other essential items, and most importantly, I had my hammock.. Fiddling with the hammock became an addiction. Thanks HF. Then came the thread injector and making some stuff sacks and food bags and a few other various thingies and all of a sudden I was now a gear maker. Great. What’s missing from the equation here? Hmmm...yeah right, the most important part, the woods.
The SO (significant other) was concerned about the whole hammock thing. “How do we cuddle? I can’t touch you when we sleep. How do we....?” Well I finally convinced her that carnal knowledge on the trail is fine and dandy when you’re twenty something, maybe thirty something, even into forties, fifties, and so on. But really, the whole ground thing was not the way our anatomy was designed so we can take care of those issues without having to be in a tent. Finally she commits to the hammock. Great. Except now I am tasked with doing the sling mods and the tarp mods and all the other mods that come along with making one’s rig right. Hmmm...the most important part? Yep, that took a back seat again.
Finally one day I looked at the calendar and said, “on this day we are going to Jonathan Dickinson State Park and spending the night in the woods.” At that point I didn’t care whether she said she was free or not, I was going no matter what even if I was going alone. The SO agrees that it’s time to hit the trail. The too long Florida summer misery of heat and humidity had broken somewhat so it was time.
I could go on and on with this and make a long story even longer. No doubt about that.
Last Tuesday we hit I-95 to Jupiter bound for the Kitching Creek primitive campsite. The trail map showed a 9 mile walk out and a bit shorter route home. The plan was to start out around noon. Take a slower pace while knocking off some geocaches along the way. All was good except that the gpx file I loaded on the handheld was an old version. A considerable number of inactive or archived caches were still showing up. That made for some time consuming, fruitless searches until I realized what was up. After that, if we didn’t find it after a good, quick search, we assumed it was gone. The method worked well as we later found it that all but one of our DNFs was not there anymore.
We arrived at the site later than I had wanted to but that’s okay. SO Laloba’sWay began taking care of the meal needs and I built the houses. I know it is a bit stereotypical but that’s the way it went down so I make no apologies for being sexist!! Pitching was easy except for the leftover soot from recent controlled burns in the area. It wasn’t a big deal. The nearby water pump was a blessing but if I had to resort to other means of washing the soot of my hands I would have been bothered.
My homemade V8 stove performed like a champ. Even after Laloba says, “do I fill it all the way up or just halfway.” This after she filled it up to about half. No problem. I brought along 10 oz of fuel for a one night trip. The leftover Backpacker’s Delight chili that Laloba had was okay. Edible for sure but very bland. The Tabasco and salt we carried along went a long way on this dinner.
After eating and cleaning up the meal I hung the food bag from the suspension line and was O-U-T, out like a scout. It didn’t take long for me to be sawing logs. Which was confirmed later. I’m normally a side/stomach sleeper but couldn’t figure that out in the HH. Laloba said that I was helping to keep the wild hogs and any other critters away. The last sound I heard was a not so distant owl hooting away.
The night looked to be dry so I rolled the dice and left the tarps off. In Florida that is a pretty good gamble. I guess it is anywhere really. I awoke several times to that incessant buzzing. It was like watching a World Cup soccer game only worse. The soccer game I can turn off or hit mute. Fortunately, without the tarp obscuring my view, I was able to look up at a beautiful waning gibbous moon.
The next morning my ambition for hiking was impeded only by the strong complaints from my hips. It’s been awhile since I have had a hip belt around my waist and it was obvious. Although just an overnight trip I had packed out almost all our gear. I wanted to test drive the Aether 70 (I know now that this pack is way too big but it was a very good deal. Will shop around for something smaller or make my own). A couple miles on the trail enroute back loosened things up well except for a couple breaks we took along the way.
We had a Stand By Me moment about a mile from the parking lot. The Ocean To Lake Florida Trail spur takes you alongside a railroad track. Florida Parks had recently tilled the trail (why, I don’t know) so it was difficult walking. We decided to dip over to the railbed. I wasn’t that concerned about having a train sneak up on us. We were on a long stretch of straight track. Walking along in hot silence I was about to begin singing the chorus of Stand By Me when Laloba yells, “TRAIN.” It had only been a couple minutes since I looked over my shoulder way down yonder towards the nearest curve in the track. Snapping my neck over my left shoulder I see the southbound headlight of the first engine rounding the curve. Cool.
We take a position on the east side of the track. I thank the engineer for not being an a-hole and laying on the air horn. It was obvious that we knew he was there and even though we were technically trespassing on Florida East Coast property, we weren’t nuisances. A friendly wave by the engineer assured me that he was okay with us being there. Even more okay with us getting out of the way!
A couple more geocaches on the way out. Hit the showers at the new camp site. Scrub-a-dub-dub. Fresh clothes on and we are headed for The Food Shack in Jupiter for a lunch and a couple cold beers.
Thanks JDSP and thanks HF for getting me back in the woods. Can’t wait for the next hang. I’m thinking of exploring some trails out in the Big Cypress next month.
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