Day 31: Black Bears and Bivouacs
Part 1: Bivouacs
I began my day early. It was a little before 6:30am when I hit the road. My first stop was about an hour away, Gettysburg.
As I got closer I imagined old civil war battalions marching through the mists that were blanketing the open fields as light began to trickle over the horizon. I couldn't help but think how they, hovering with an almost pinkish hue, resembled the appearance of the sealed cloud chamber inside the Museum of Science back in Boston.
Subatomic particles or ghosts? Perhaps that is a discussion for another day.
Once I made it to the cemetery I walked a little, read poetry a little, and took pictures a little. Each of those things I'd like to briefly address.
Walking: From day one I have continually bemoaned the fact that I somehow managed to bring only skate shoes along with me on this trip. No boots or hiking shoes whatsoever. It turns out that my pure black Daewon's make a great Sunday shoe, my white DVS's sturdy hiking shoes, my black DVS's when I need a nice casual feel, and my grey Lakai Selects for actually skating. But apparently I'm not even utilizing that strategy very well since my wet socks testify against the holes in my Selects that I used to hike around the Gettysburg fields. Oh yeah, and I drive barefoot. They are the first things to go when you find yourself continually behind the wheel, followed by the socks, then belt, and then the pants altogether! Basketball shorts people. Geeze.
Poetry: Along the path that circled around the monuments great and small, throughout the Gettysburg National Military Park there were quant and unobtrusive plaques every so often with, what I, at first thought were individual quatrains dedicated to the fallen soldiers written by unknown or at least uncited authors. Not being able to find any information on the lymrics I resorted to the internet. It turns out the four lined ABAB schemed rhymes are a greater singular work written by a Theodore O'Hara titled The Bivouac of the Dead. I recommend you read it. I'd share a link to it here but I'm literally typing this huddled under a blanket with one thumb, my other hand under my head hours after midnight in a signal-less forest rife with black bears. I digress. Suffice it to say, the poem is striking, swelling the soul with enlightening melancholy. The Bivouac of the Dead.
I recall stumbling through the Gettysburg Address, reciting it to the teacher a few years ago in a political science class at UVU. It is the only class that I ever got an A in. Thinking back on it, I don't even know how I managed that.
Pictures: I started this trip with a MacBook Pro, a GoPro, a D3600 Nikon, and my iPhone. My Mac, early on, you're aware gave up the ghost, my GoPro was reliant on my Mac for its power source so it too is out of use, my Nikon holds a good charge but I am using it sparsely as outlets aren't exactly the easiest things to utilize while on the road; I think the last time I charged it's battery was in the theater at the Rock and Roll Museum in Cleveland! Not to mention I don't have anywhere other than my SD cards to store the photos. Fortunately I had the good sense to bring my wifi connecter that allows me to transfer photos from the Nikon to my iPhone, of which I am continually running out of space. I have a free Dropbox account and Google Photo account that I can access from my phone but only when I have a wifi signal, at least it appears to me, can I upload photos to them but I have yet to utilize fully their conveniences since wifi is also a rare commodity on the road. Conveniences are difficult when they aren't particularly convenient.
This whole photo thing has been slightly frustrating as you can imagine, but I am trying to implement a more stoic attitude and just be where I am at the moment, appreciating the sights first hand and not worrying so much about the cameras. Still I use them when the moments are particularly calling for it, but really I'm only scaling back my photography because I am quite obliged to.
Part 2: Black Bears
I had purposefully avoided the Baltimore area for reasons not needing explanation and also I tried to justify staying out of DC, but as I was driving south on 81 away from Gettysburg the thought wouldn't leave my mind that I needed to go see the rotunda in the Capital Building, as I wasn't able to visit it last time I was there. But it was closed due to the Papal visit until about 1pm on the 24th. That would be Thursday. I had to find out what I should do for a day while I waited to visit DC. I pulled off at a rest area, pulled out my map and began thinking.
The thought occurred to me that I had a tent, brand new and unopened admittedly. I've had it for probably over a year as well, but I threw it in my truck on the outset of my trip just in case. I also noted that there was the Shenandoua National Park less than an hour away from where I was. So I did what anyone would do and hit up walmart, grabbed some granola bars and jerky, VIPed my way through the gate with my national parks pass and stopped at the first camp ground I came to.
As I was checking out my plot of ground I ran across a black bear casually strolling through my spot! He looked at me as if to say, "what's up man? Got any Doritos?" He strolled off after a minute. Strolling seems to be the word to describe how they walk!
I set up my tent with the intention of spending the evening reading but as soon as I settled in I almost immediate fell asleep. It was around 4pm, Wednesday. I've been particularly tired as of late. I woke up 8 hours later at midnight.
Having to come to terms with the fact that the crunching yards away from my tent could very well be a bear, or Bigfoot, or a ghoul or beast of some sort only known in tales of horror and the minds of those whom those horrors have occurred, I take solace in the stars. My tent allows me to see them through its top.
My phone is nearly dead and I just got a notification that my storage is nearly full. I've got to figure something out. Right now though, I'm going to meditate until the sun comes up. I'll post this as soon as I can. By virtue of you reading this, it means that I didn't get eaten. Goodnight.