Saturday Night Alone at Home

     The smell of old canvas in my car was comforting in the last few work days of the week.  I started packing on Wednesday for the trip I planned to make on the weekend.  It wouldn't be far, just a few miles from home, and it wouldn't be long, only a single night, but I would be ready.  This was to be my first solo camping trip in about a year.  Various health issues and scheduling conflicts had kept me from the experience, and now that I was feeling mostly better and could stake out a Saturday, I was eager to go.  Eager and a little nervous.  The past year has been busy pointing out that I'm older and less invincible than I used to be.  Could my skills have deteriorated while I waited to be strong again?  Those same health issues had impacted my daily walking routine and kept me from taking the longer weekend hikes I liked as well.  I could see the difference in my leg muscles.

     Then there's the matter of packing for the trip.  A single night alone requires a different frame of thought than a weekend with the family.  Alone, I don't pack many of the amenities I might for others, but I also can't count on someone else if I forget something crucial.  My gear was scattered and I had to start from square one, considering the needs and plotting what had to go. There was a threat of rain, snow, and ice in the forecast that changed as the day neared.  Weather in Illinois is fickle, particularly at the edges of Spring and Fall.  I had to be prepared for anything.  despite the fears about my readiness, an old familiar joy crept in while I packed.  I was going to spend the day outside just being me, and that always relieves the stress.

     It turns out that the campsite was mostly snow, a lot easier to deal with than the muddy mess in the few clear patches.  The temperatures stayed right around freezing during the daylight hours, and there was only a brief, light, almost misty snowfall on the morning I arrived, not the steady rain an early prediction had warned.  My tent went up fairly easily, though it's always a bit of a dance when putting it up alone.  Any lingering worries melted away as I made myself at home and absorbed all the peace that wandering the trails could bring.

     A night or two before my trip, we had Chinese takeout, and my fortune cookie was unusually fitting.  It read: You will stumble into the path that will lead your life to happiness.

     Not so much stumbling, but I think the cookie was right.