The First Trip (part five – The Campsite)

As they say, good things come in fives. OK, maybe they don’t say exactly that, but you get the idea.

We arrived. We got off our bikes, our butt muscles turning, our taints complaining from the long ride.

We didn’t bring tents; instead we had hammocks, and sleeping bags and sleeping pads. It’s difficult to get used to sleeping in a hammock, and more often than not on these trips I would lay in the hammock for a few hours before dozing off.

We were near the creek, camped in a small spot. There were other spots available, but they weren’t close. No one was around. The park ranger came by once and said “It’s a cold son of a bitch, huh?”

And it was–being in the canopied forest with the sun gone, the chill crept up on you. We were ready, though. We had the foresight to bring long sleeve shirts, hoodies, pants.

We get to the site and first thing we do is change into our “chill-out” clothes and get out of the sweaty biking gear.

Of course, I was dumb and ignorant and so I didn’t have biking shorts or padded shorts or even a good biking shirts, so I was already in my chill-out clothes.

We lit a fire, we popped some beers, we ate and talked and let the night envelop our site.

But not before setting up.

Get to camp, celebrate for a few minutes, take a breather, open a beer and start to get situated. Park the bikes. Unpack the bikes. Take off the panniers and start getting set up.

Put the food in the bear locker. Change clothes. Unpack the sleeping gear.

Sleeping gear? Again, no tent, only hammock. Good thing there are plenty of trees at our camp.

Put up the hammock, inflate the sleeping mat, and unroll the sleeping bag.

Pillows? We don’t need no stinking pillows.

I sit in the hammock for a moment, just resting. Looking up at the dusklight peeking through the forest canopy. My body is rining, buzzing with energy.

Next order of business, after the sleeping arrangements and the securing of our food, is the campfire.

Signs say “no wood gathering” but we ignore them. Years later and California would have a wild fire problem. Maybe there should be wood gathering?

The cardboard and paper from the food we bought forms the base, after that twigs and sticks, and then any big pieces we can find are put on top.

It takes some time, as the wood is slightly damp, but eventually the fire is going. We sit beside the fire ring, sipping our drinks, groaning like old men as we shift our weight so as not to be sitting on our derriers as much. 

Night envelops our camp, the firelight animating our faces.