A Week in the Woods: Day Three

Friday morning dawned and the newly foliated roof of my shelter was still in place, so I celebrated by staying in bed and reading until I ran out of water and had to make the day's first trip to the stream. Breakfast was enjoyed on my kitchen hill, just out of sight of the shelter, and it was the same as every other meal I had that week. I sat at the top of the hill next to a flat stone that I arranged my bags of granola and dried fruit on, and I alternated between these and spoonfuls of peanut butter, eating slowly until I wasn't hungry anymore. At the end of each meal, I had four squares of chocolate to round things off. I listened to audiobooks during most meals, and now I'm sure that eating dried apricots will forever remind me of East of Eden and vice versa.

With my shelter finished, there was no big project to fill my time, so I began some of the most undisturbed relaxation I've ever experienced. I made a reading chair from an upturned tree stump not far from the mouth of my clearing, padding the ground with moss and the stump with spruce branches. I sat and read without marking the time, switching between books when I felt like something different. The mosquitoes weren't as bad as they had been earlier in the summer, but I still wore a bug net sometimes while reading because sitting in one place gives them plenty of time to find you.

Later that afternoon, I explored some of the surrounding area. For the most part, there were just more trees. I was a bit disturbed to find some bear droppings about a minute's walk to the west, but they didn't look particularly fresh, so I had some comfort. Still, for some reason, it felt risky to be away from my camp and I kept looking over my shoulder until I was back in the clearing. Even when I was home again, I still felt very alert to noises that could be large animals approaching, and I decided to make a door for my shelter by tying together thick branches to make a sort of large grille. It wouldn't necessarily stop a curious bear, but it could at least give me time to grab my bear spray.

Combined with the other safety precautions I had taken, this barrier was enough to give me peace of mind while in my clearing. Another (mostly psychological) aid to this was the old moose bone I found, about two feet long but surprisingly heavy and just the right thickness to grip comfortably. I read most of Robinson Crusoe at my reading chair with this club held in one hand. A larger wooden club stored next to my shelter completed the primitive but comforting arsenal I had against the wild.

Looking back on it, it does seem strange that the most restful week of my life featured  a constant background of mild primal dread. Perhaps I was unintentionally practicing mindfulness.