Saturday,
February 1, 2020
I’m currently reading a book called ‘The Stranger
in the Woods’ by Michael Finkel, which is the true story of Maine hermit Chris
Knight who, at age 20, left everything behind and trekked off into the woods of
northern Maine where he set up a camp only a short distance from North Pond and
lived, without human contact, for the next 27 years. Only twice during that time did he encounter other people
and both times only in passing on a trail. He lived by stealing from over 100 cabins situated in the
woods around and near North Pond, which was only a short distance from his hideaway
camping site. He never started a
fire. He cooked on a Coleman stove
and slept in a tent under a tarp in winters that often saw temperatures
plunging to minus 20 degrees and colder.
After over an estimated 1,000 break-ins, he was finally captured in
2013.
In reading the account, I have been struck by
several things about survival for sure, but I am more fascinated by his
interest and willingness – maybe necessity – to be entirely alone. I have done several camping trips where
I have been without human contact for several days, but in each situation would
eventually come upon another person and was anxious to converse. I avoid going alone and only do it when
no one else is available to join me because I get the greatest enjoyment
sharing in the serene beauty I experience and talking about what we’ve seen and
done around a campfire at the day’s end.
The book and his experience has gotten me thinking
again about walking one of the big trails of North America, though. There is much conversation in the book
about the need for solitude and doing absolutely nothing in an effort to
explore one’s deepest thoughts.
Without total silence it is quite impossible and, in my experience, is
best accomplished in outdoor places full of natural beauty and splendor. It also has the absolute requirement of
being completely comfortable with doing nothing…and this is really difficult
because, for me at least, doing nothing makes me feel guilty. Doing nothing, thinking and
contemplating, is doing something and I have to remind myself that it’s not
only okay, it’s actually very healthy physically, mentally, and, in my case,
spiritually. It is during these
times that I reflect on who I am, how I’m comporting myself and whether and how
to improve. I come away from these
soul-searching events committed to being a better version of myself and look
for ways to put it in motion. It
makes me happier and feeling better about myself. It is a good thing.
This is the winter that hasn’t happened yet and I’m
not complaining. I managed a bike
ride in 50-degree weather the other day, the fourth ride of the winter. I’m realizing how much I enjoy cooking
and have been tackling old family recipes with the result being plenty of
calorie consumption. I need the
winter to stay warm so that I can burn the excess on long rides. Since I’m also getting out and taking
long walks with Dakota and have been almost every day of my retirement, I’ve
managed to maintain a semblance of fitness, but it’s far from enough to satisfy
me and is the other compelling reason for me to have something like the
Appalachian Trail to plan to hike.
We’ll get to that later…
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