Below is a story/reflections on a trip I did this spring in an old cellar hole I had discovered while scouting for archery season. It seems to be a place where I may begin by treasure hunting adventures. Thanks for taking the time to read it.
-Paul
I had gotten all of my gear together over the winter to do my first solo camping trip. The weather was supposed to be unseasonably nice for this time of year and so I had all of my stuff loaded in the truck for after I got off work on Friday at 4:00. I had to stop at home quickly to change and grab the cooler in the fridge that stored my chilled food. All winter when I was planning my first solo trip, I thought about many different locations and courses which would provide an adventure but I always knew where my first trip would be; “The Foundation”.
I discovered “The Foundation” about 5 years ago in the springtime when I was shed hunting and scouting for archery season. It was about 12’ x 20’ and dug down about 5 feet into the ground, which made a nice area to stay down out of the wind. There was no trace of any wood structure remaining that would have been on top of the stone. The ground inside the foundation was soft & a bit spongy from the leaf litter and pine needles that had been deposited in it over the decades. Some beech trees had germinated and were scattered randomly inside the foundation with the largest being about 10 inches in diameter. One end of the foundation had an entryway in the middle of it with the remnants of a stone staircase that had collapsed and been taken over by moss. It provided a slippery way to access the middle of the foundation. I remember standing in the middle of the foundation and thinking about how it had held up a structure that must have been important to someone at some point in time. Who? I’d never know. They were more than likely passed on from this life and yet this foundation provided a connection to us both. For me, I was standing where someone I would never meet stood during a simpler time that I knew had once existed. For them, although they didn’t know it at the time, they had stood where someone who did not yet exist would stand in a future they could not imagine.
I made the 90 degree turn to the left. I pulled into the next road on the right and parked at the yellow gate. It was about 5:00pm. I grabbed my pack which was far from lightweight backpackers standards and headed up the tram road. From scouring over other backpackers’ lists on online forums, I knew that I would be carrying much more than most people did but this trip was going to be a test for me to see what was truly essential and what I would be able to pare down on future trips. During my planning process as I ran through all of the “what if” scenarios, all of the items that I carried on my back seemed like a necessity. I think it’s somewhat of common thought process for most guys but even more so because of who my Dad is. Anyone who has been around the “Old Boy” knows that he doesn’t go anywhere without having everything he would need to change an alternator, perform CPR, cut a venison bologna tray and be able to perform all 3 of those tasks at the same time. Except for that one time where he needed wood glue, but that story is for another time. Some of his “preparedness” gene definitely wore off on me but I try to suppress it the best I can.
I could tell within 100 yards up the tram road that the pack I got might not cut it. I had selected this pack because it had a pouch designed to carry a gun in between your back and the body of the pack. It’s a great design if you are carrying a gun but on this trip I wasn’t. To ease the weight of a load on your back, you try to have a center of gravity close to your core. I pulled the straps that tighten the pack close to my back but instead of pulling the weight closer to my back, it made the Velcro gun pouch come apart and subsequently the weight was pulled away from my body which made it a lot harder to carry.
Another thing I noticed right from the outset was that I was forced to slow down from my normal walking pace. That’s OK though because when you’re in the outdoors, all you have is time. As a matter of fact, I purposely didn’t wear a watch and I enjoyed the thought of equating “time” with how much daylight was left in the day; the way the wildlife does. I had about a mile walk to The Foundation and multiple times I felt my breathing increase and nature reminding me to just slow down; strike one.
It took me about 25 minutes to reach the creek crossing where I turned north and headed up to the foundation. A big thing that was on my mind with the dwindling sunlight was gathering enough firewood for cooking and having a nice fire after dark since it was supposed to get down into the 20’s and I wasn’t sure how warm I was going to be in my tent. My sleeping bag was rated to 20 degrees but I wasn’t sure if that was the comfort rating or the lower limit rating so I had packed extra fleece clothing to layer up if necessary. I had also pulled the trigger earlier that week on CamoFire as a silk sleeping bag liner just showed up on their website. This liner was supposed to add at least 5 degrees of warmth to your sleeping bag in addition to keeping the inside of your sleeping bag clean. Both of those features sounded attractive to me so I had made the decision to purchase on Monday. I was hoping that it would arrive at my doorstep before my trip and I was pleasantly surprised when I got home after work today for my food and found the package waiting for me.
I made it to The Foundation, set my gear down and begun the first task at hand; getting my tent up. The wind is typically out of the west and I thought that I would want my tent against the western wall of the foundation to serve as a break in the event any wind stirred up. In my haste to get setup, I didn’t bother to take several moments to stand still and actually feel what the wind was doing; I didn’t know it at the time but nature’s umpire just called strike two. Setting the tent up beforehand at Dad’s house helped me understand how it went and I was set in no time at all. This was the first time I used the footprint that came with the tent and it helped keep everything neat and clean and helped me select the most level spot to erect the tent. This was also the first time that I had the whole tent fully staked out. It’s rated as a 2-person tent and it looked really cozy. There was plenty of room for me as well as all of my gear to be in the tent and out of the weather.
While I was moving around the foundation setting my tent up, I noticed that there were some stones laying in the foundation that had fallen off over the years from the top. I gathered some of the bigger stones to fashion a small fire ring. I would locate the fire ring on the east side of my tent so that the west wind would blow any smoke away from it. Also to the east of my tent was the large 10” beech tree. It had a small lean towards my tent and looked like an ideal spot to sit around the fire and lean back comfortably against. When I was packing my gear, I remembered my buddy Josh during our annual slip trips would purposefully not bring a chair since he preferred to sit more primitive Indian-style on the ground around the fire. I was looking forward to sitting in that fashion on this trip and packed a large, black garbage bag to put down to try and keep from tracking any more debris than necessary into my tent. I laid out the garbage bag onto the ground to the east of the beech tree and began constructing the fire ring to the east of my garbage bag. One of the stones were large and rectangular and I recognized right away that it could be used as a nice food prep station so I positioned it in the southern-most position where I anticipated I’d be cooking from. The firewood I was collecting then got piled on the northern-most side of the ring; opposite from where I’d be prepping food.
After the fire ring was setup, I was bent on getting enough firewood to purify water, cook on, and have a nice fire to sit around after dark. The foundation is in a stand of tall pine timber and there were lots of dead branches within reach on the lower sections of the straight trunks. I pulled out my 17 oz. Gerber Backpax and removed the green plastic sheath and started hacking off some of the sticks and throwing them down into the foundation. At first, I started breaking sticks & twigs from the trees surrounding the foundation since it was the easiest to get to. I then thought that I should save the easily accessed wood in case I needed more after dark so I left what was still there and gathered additional firewood from farther up near the spring. It had rained heavily Thursday night and even though it was a nice day Friday, there was a damp feel to the area and even the dead sticks still had a bit of moisture to them. I was a bit disappointed because damp wood equals smoke and the Kelly Kettle relies on wood & twigs to cook with which meant I was probably in for a lot of smoke. Good thing I have everything arranged to the upwind side! I got a nice pile of various diameter sticks together and even felled a small dead pine and drug it back to the foundation. I tried wedging it between two trees and using leverage to break it into smaller pieces. Even though it was probably at least 12’ long, it was still too stout for me to break so I lowered the small end down into the foundation and figured I could burn it in small sections, starting at the small end, if need be.
Once the firewood duty was completed, the next thing my mind went to was getting water and purifying it through boiling. I had not carried a drink in and I was thirsty from the walk in and hustling to gather firewood before dark. I knew that I would have to boil the water before I drank it and I wanted to get some boiled and cooling down so I could get a drink.
Water was an essential commodity and at 8lb. per gallon, I knew that I would not be carrying any significant volume with me on the way in. I had given my water gathering a lot of thought before my trip. There always has to be water in the Kelly Kettle cylinder when you have a fire in it or else you could melt through the Kettle so at all times I would need an empty container to put raw water in to fill the Kettle. The Kelly Kettle I had holds 54oz. of water. Once it had boiled, I would need a container to pour the purified water into and it couldn’t be the same container that I used for raw water since I would be using that one to re-fill the Kettle in order to keep the fire going and cook my food on. Additionally, I was worried about pouring boiling water straight into a plastic container so I would need a third container that was made of metal to allow the boiling water to cool down before transferring to my plastic container.
Most of the backpackers on the forums that I had frequented in my planning process used instant coffee or something similar for ease of preparation as well as weight savings since they didn’t have to lug a percolator in their pack. I had found an aluminum coffee percolator (identical to one that my Dad owns & I had used on prior camping trips) in the attic of the house my wife and I purchased in 2012. It was like a hidden treasure when I found it and from the time I decided to pursue solo camping, one of the things I most looked forward to was sipping a cup of joe in the middle of the awakening woods that was perked over an open fire so I was determined to bring it along regardless of the added weight.
For water purposes, I had finally settled on a 50oz. container to gather raw water in, a 30oz. container to store purified water, and I would use my aluminum coffee percolator as the vessel to hold the purified water in to cool until I transferred it into the 30oz. container. Best case scenario I thought, I could boil one kettle of water, pour it into the percolator and fill the kettle back up with the 50oz. container. Once the 2nd kettle boiled, I could pour the water from the percolator into the 30oz. container since it will have cooled by then and then pour the freshly boiled water into the empty percolator. I could refill the kettle for the third time with my 50oz. container and let this water boil the entire time I was cooking my meal. When I was finished eating, the cooled water in the percolator would go into the 50oz. container and I could put the silicone stopper in the Kelly Kettle resulting in 3 vessels with purified water in them. It seems like a lot of thought went into it but the last thing I wanted to do was get out in the woods and realize that I have boiling water in my Kettle which is supposed to be my drinking water and I have no container to put it into.
The foundation was built adjacent to a spring that has always had water in it every time I was there. I ventured up to the head of the spring where someone had built a spring house and I suspected drew water from. It was a small seep and not deep enough to fill the 50 oz. or 30 oz. plastic containers. I walked back down the spring passed the foundation and found where there was a spot where the water was running over a rock and formed a small pool. I used my foldable trowel to dig down into the pool and expand how much water could pool there. I had to move some moss out of the way and used a large rock to hold it back. Finally I was able to fit my big 50 oz. bottle into the pool but it would only fill about halfway up before the water wouldn’t go in anymore because the back end of the bottle was sticking out of the water and the air couldn’t escape. I had to dig the pool out a little more so that I could fit the bottom of the bottle in the pool with the mouth of the bottle being the highest part and that way all of the air could escape and the bottle would fully fill up. I was anxious to get the bottle into the pool but I had stirred dirt up and the water was cloudy. This was another moment where I was forced to slow down and get out of the go, go, go rhythm of everyday life. After only about 20 seconds or so, new water had filled the pool and all of the cloudy water was washing down the spring behind me. My green 50oz. bottle filled up in no time and I poured the contents into the Kelly Kettle beside me and inserted the orange silicon stopper into the Kettle’s waterspout to keep debris from getting into it. I filled the 50oz. bottle to the top again, capped it and started back to the foundation with 100oz. of water in hand. I thought back to winter and how I was thinking about different destinations for some of my solo trips. During that time, I had envisioned camping way up on a high ridge in the mountains of Cameron or Potter counties. I quickly realized on the short walk back to the foundation that water is rarely found on the top of a high ridge. If I could only carry 100oz. at a time then I would be running back & forth a lot! And that wasn’t counting the water that I would use for dishes, hand washing, etc. It dawned on me that it was going to be vital to camp near a water source and I also realized that it’s no coincidence that this foundation (along with many others) was located near a water source.
Back at the foundation, I got to the task of building a fire in the Kelly Kettle to get the first batch of water boiling. I started rooting around my pack to find my lighter & soap container that had my cotton balls & petroleum jelly. As I was digging, I kept setting things out that I knew I would need when I started cooking. Pretty soon, I had a lot of items sitting on the forest floor and I noticed the green sheath that I had taken off of my Backpax earlier laying there as well. I could see how easily some items could be lost or misplaced so I decided that any time I had to set something down, I would set it on the black garbage bag. If I had to move it off of the garbage bag, it went back into my pack. This system would ensure that I didn’t inadvertently set something down and forget about it. It isn’t as crucial at this location since if I did realize I left something behind, it’s close enough to home that I could simply walk back and retrieve it. However, if I do a multi-day trip in a more remote location, an item could be lost permanently. It was good to at least start to get into the habit.
I got a fire going and as expected, I had quite a bit of smoke coming from the Kelly Kettle. For some reason, while I was sitting on the black garbage bag (to the west of the fire) the smoke was still blowing towards me. It was almost as if the wind was coming out of the east! Then it dawned on me that earlier when I was deciding what wall to put my tent against, I simply based my decision on what the wind was supposed to be doing; not on what it was actually doing. “What a dummy” I thought to myself because I had experienced this far too many times during archery season when the weatherman said the wind was supposed to be a certain direction and I chose my stand location based on his prediction but I never stopped to check the wind until I was standing at the base of my tree. It only took a time or two of lugging all of my gear to my stand location and having the wind blowing from the opposite direction than what Mr. Weather predicted for me to take the small amount of time to step outside and feel what the wind was actually doing before choosing my stand location. In my haste, I didn’t take the few seconds to stop. Stand still and feel what the wind was doing. It was supposed to be coming from the west but it was actually coming from the east. Nature will teach me to slow down. Strike two.
My first batch of water came to a boil and I let it go for a couple minutes before pouring it into my aluminum percolator. I refilled the Kettle with 50oz. that I had gotten earlier and I stoked the Kettle by dropping sticks and twigs down into it. While the 2nd batch of water was heating up, I took the empty 50oz. container back to the pool to refill it. It was getting dark by this time and I had to use my headlamp to navigate. I filled the container up and headed back to the foundation. It was also starting to get slightly chilly so I started a fire in the ring for some added warmth. While I waited, I poured the raw macaroni from my EasyMac into my bowl. The water came to a boil and I transferred the water from the percolator into the 30oz. bottle and then transferred the water from the Kettle into the percolator. I refilled the Kettle from the 50oz. container and poured some of the just-boiled water that was in the percolator into my bowl of macaroni. I set it on top of the Kelly Kettle to work its magic and I began prepping my onion for making French Onion soup.
As I continued prepping, I realized that there aren’t multiple burners out here where you can multi-task and your French Onion soup gets done at the same time as your EasyMac; that’s a feature of the everyday go-go-go world. I began to think about the reality of the life I was presently living. If I was thirsty, I couldn’t just turn the tap on and get a drink. I would have to walk to the water source, collect the water, carry it back, start a fire, boil the water and let it cool. I thought about how my planned pancakes, eggs, and sausage breakfast would work out the next morning. At that point, I realized that I still hadn’t had a drink yet. I poured two packets of pink lemonade flavoring into the 30oz. bottle and shook it up. I felt disappointed as the bottle was still hot and felt like it hadn’t cooled down at all! But as I took a drink and felt even the hot liquid quench my thirst, I was reminded of Dick Proenneke and how while living out in the wilderness of remote Alaska for over 30 years and eating a rather plain diet, he commented that he just seasoned the simple foods with hunger. At that moment, I knew exactly what he meant. I would slow down and enjoy what nature provided. Tomorrow morning, I would have a 3 course meal rather than one big meal with 3 items. Every task out here, even EasyMac required effort. And that’s exactly why it was easily the best tasting EasyMac I’ve ever had!
I finished dinner and rinsed out the dishes I had dirtied with some of the hot water from my percolator. I strapped on a headlamp for additional lighting as I finished up. I experimented with the 3 settings (red, high white, low white) on my headlamp since I wanted to conserve as much battery life as possible. The red was not quite enough light and the high setting was more than enough. I settled on the low white setting to help me finish rinsing out the dishes. They weren’t completely clean but I would wash them more thoroughly in the spring in the morning. It was now completely dark and I was so busy doing things that I hadn’t noticed the sun set. Was it beautiful? Were there small hints of clouds still in the sky that became dazzling & fluorescent as the sun disappeared? Or did the sun simply sink lower and lower below the horizon offering no visual spectacle? The answer had been right in front of me if I had only taken a moment to stop and notice it. I told myself that I’m not going to make the same mistake when Mr. Sun reappeared 180 degrees from where he disappeared. A man only gets so many sunsets & sunrises in his lifetime and the only thing that’s guaranteed is the one you just experienced brings you one closer to meeting your Maker.
I stoked up the fire in the ring and moved my black garbage bag to the east side of the fire ring to avoid the smoke. I sat down, switched off my headlight and enjoyed the flicker & warmth of the flames. The air was getting noticeably colder now and I was anxious to get tucked into my tent and see how my +20 degree sleeping bag was going to work out. I looked over at my stack of sticks & twigs and realized that I had gathered probably 2 or 3 times more than I would burn. And to think I was in such a rush to get it. I let the fire burn down and spread the coals out to let them fizzle out.
Inside my tent, I exchanged my brush pants for some fleece lounge pants that I had brought with me. I left the Merino Wool base layers on both my top and bottom as well as the 2 pair of socks that I had worn on the way in to prevent blisters from forming on my feet. The silk liner seemed like it was thin enough that it could tear and my fleece pants kept catching on the liner as I tried to get into it. Finally, I got nestled with my feet at the bottom of the liner and then I slid the liner farther down into the sleeping bag. I had unzipped the sleeping bag all the way to assist with getting situated and my heart skipped a beat when I reached back down, pulled the zipper and it came sliding up with the teeth only gripping one side of the sleeping bag! I had only owned one other sleeping bag prior to this one and it was manufactured in such a way that the zipper was permanently attached to both sides of the zipper and if for some reason it came “unhinged” from one side it could only mean one thing; it was broken. I knew that the only way I was going to have a chance at sleeping comfortably in sub 30-degree temperature was if my sleeping bag was able to retain most of the heat that my body would give off and that was not going to be possible if it was wide open on one side. I was pleasantly surprised to see my newly purchased sleeping bag was actually designed to be completely unzipped and I could re-zip it as easily as I zipped up my jacket. I was now snugly tucked in and I was looking forward to listening to some Appalachian folk music before I fell asleep. I got my mp3 player out and positioned the earbuds into my ears. Before I turned it on, I made the sign of the cross and spent several minutes praying to God who had blessed me so abundantly not only on this particular trip out in His wonderful creation but for all of the blessings He had given to me in my life. I didn’t deserve any of it but yet He had given it to me anyway. I try to love God in everything I do to the best of my ability. Perhaps that’s all He asks of me. I was reminded of the Gospel passage where Jesus tells His disciples to ask and they will receive, seek and they will find. He goes on to ask them what kind of father would give their son a serpent if he asked for bread? I thought of Pauly and how as his earthly father, I wanted to give him every good thing I possibly could and I would never hand him something bad when he wanted something good. Jesus goes on to say that even if human fathers (who are wicked by nature due to sin) know how to love their sons and give them good things, how much more will the Heavenly Father (who is the perfect Father) give good things to those who love Him. As usual, when I stopped and gave God even just a few minutes of my life, His grace entered my life and everything for the moment made perfect sense. I layed there content and perfectly at peace. Although I was utterly enjoying the solitude, my mind drifted to my 6-year old Pauly at home and how I wished he could be lying here beside me. In due time. I finished praying and concluded the same way I had started; blessing myself with the ancient sign of the cross. I listened to quite a few songs before turning off my mp3 player and drifting off to sleep.
I had rolled over a few times during the night but for the most part had a satisfying night’s sleep. When I bought my sleeping bag, I had the choice of a regular size or long size. I opted for the long size since I wanted the extra room and it paid off as I was able to slide all the way down to the bottom, pull the top of the sleeping bag over my head like a blanket, and still be able to lay stretched out. I could tell it was cold out because when I would breathe in, I could feel the cold air being pulled in from the opening at the top of the sleeping bag even though I was still toasty inside. One time, I had rolled over and my arms were inside my sleeping bag but outside of the silk liner. I repositioned and put my arms inside the liner and it was noticeably warmer which made me satisfied that I had spent the $34.99 for it.
I woke up around 6:30am and washed my face with a rag and cold water from my 50oz. container before I got out of my sleeping bag. I got dressed in the tent and stood up to see the sun low in the sky and piercing through the tall timber. It was a satisfying sight. I had coffee on my mind and after brushing my teeth near the southeastern corner of the foundation, I started getting the Kelly Kettle ready to provide me with some hot joe. As the first batch of water was coming to a boil, I found the coffee I had packed in a small one-serving plastic container. I prepped the percolator with the coffee grounds and when the water boiled in the Kelly, I filled up the percolator with the boiling water and set it on top of the pot support to begin the perking process. It didn’t take long until I started seeing clear water bubbling up through the clear plastic knob on top of the percolator. Before long, the clear water had turned brown and I had my coffee.
I swapped out the percolator from on top of the Kelly with one of my cook pots. I began cooking breakfast starting with the sausage since it would create some grease that I could cook the eggs and pancakes in afterwards. As expected, I ate each item individually as it finished cooking rather than having a big meal all at once. The end result was still the same however; my stomach was full. More importantly however, I was feeling satisfied that I was finally experiencing a trip that I had been dreaming about for many months. It was all finally here but just as quickly, it would be over and I wanted to savor every minute of it. I poured my 3rd cup of coffee and I navigated up the dilapidated staircase and picked a spot on top of the foundation that had the least amount of moss to sit down. As I sat there enjoying the morning woods, a single gobble sounded from the east behind me. That was my dessert. It didn’t have the full roll of a Tom gobbler and I speculated that I had heard an immature bird. I mouthed off some crow calls to try and get him to respond again so I could confirm my suspicions but no such luck.
I stood up with my half-empty cup of coffee and took a small walk about 100 yards around the foundation. By the time I had gotten back to the foundation, I had an empty cup. I knew I didn’t have time for a long hike but I knew that I wanted to get out and do something before I packed up for the day and left. From reading about other outdoorsmen that would go on back-country hunts and setup a base camp that they would return to after pursuing elk or muledeer all day, I was eager to have a base camp of my own; albeit a smaller version of one. I had given this part of my trip quite a bit of thought before hand as well and I settled on exploring where the spring that provided The Foundation water ended up. I knew ultimately that it spilled into the reservoir but I wanted to know the exact spot. Like the guys I had read about, I was going to set out from my base camp but instead of pursuing trophy big game in rocky wilderness & pristine scenery, this would be my own “micro-adventure” here at The Foundation.
I was eager to get started on my hike but as I looked down into The Foundation, I saw all of the dirty dishes that were left over from breakfast. As much as I wanted to set down my empty coffee cup and start exploring down the spring, I knew that the dishes would still be there waiting for me when I got back. Furthermore, back at home when I know that there is work to do along with something that I’m looking forward to doing, if time permits, I try to discipline myself and always perform the work first before I get to enjoy the other activity. It’s a great motivator for me personally and it helps me to work hard & efficiently since I know that there is a reward waiting for me. Additionally, if I forego the work and instead do the pleasurable activity first, the work is still waiting for me but now I don’t have any motivation to complete it since I cheated and rewarded myself before the work was done. There would be no exceptions out here. I gathered the dishes and ventured down to the pool I had dug out to wash them. As I scrubbed & rinsed, I noticed a rock that seemed out of place at the bottom of the pool. I reached down and grabbed it and identified it as a piece of broken glass. It was just a small piece that fit in the palm of my hand but I could tell from how thick the glass had been that it was obviously very old. I smiled as I thought about how this piece of glass was another connection to the past and I wouldn’t have discovered it if I hadn’t been doing this “work” that I was dreading. I pondered about how the key to living a full & happy life is finding enjoyment in the smallest things even while you are at work or doing something you’d rather not be doing. I was reminded of some Scripture passages that call on Christians to rejoice in the Lord always and in all things give thanks. With my mind preoccupied, the dishes were done in no time. I lined them up on the flat fire ring stone to hopefully dry before I got back from my hike.
I looked over at the tent and decided to organize everything inside to make packing up easier for when I returned. I’m glad I did because as I went to pack my sleeping bag in its stuff sack, I felt a bit of moisture on the outside of it; probably from condensation that morning. I got everything else put away and took my sleeping bag out to find a place to hang it while I was gone. I glanced towards the west and noticed the sun’s rays shining onto some of the trees. I picked out a spot that had branches low enough that I could reach and I draped my sleeping bag over the branches with the wet side facing the warm rays of sunlight; nature’s own dryer.
Finally, I was able to begin my micro-adventure. I started walking down the spring. The banks were steep on either side of it but the water itself was only running at the very bottom. There must be times during flood season or spring runoff when it flows at much greater rates and increased erosion. I watched how the water flowed indiscriminately down the valley wherever gravity & the path of least resistance led it. It dawned on me that this spring had ran before I existed, it was running while I existed and it would continue to run even after I existed. It too showed no signs of partiality and it would continue to run regardless of my state of life. I was again reminded of Scripture and how God allows the sun to shine & the rain to fall on the just and the unjust equally in this present age. I remembered when I first heard Father Robert Barron use that passage to explain how bad things can happen to good people and how good things can happen to bad people in this world. We live in a world of free will and just because you choose to do right (according to God’s law) all of your life doesn’t mean that you won’t be negatively affected by circumstances arising from other people’s free-willed wrong choices. In the same way, if someone decides to cheat or take advantage of someone in the stock market, God isn’t going to stop that person’s investment from growing and making that person wealthy. God doesn’t intervene and right every wrong, in this present age. However, in the age to come, God will indeed right every wrong and the scales of injustice will be balanced and righteous men will be repaid for their righteousness and wicked men will be punished for their wickedness. It was a very satisfying explanation for me personally.
As I continued walking down the spring that had now turned into a small creek as other springs joined it, I noticed how when the banks were small & constricted, the water flowed through swiftly but when the banks were wide, the water evened out and the flow was slowed and turned into a pool. I looked up and was in awe at how high the trees towered over me. I was surrounded by unblemished nature and I wondered if anti-hunters and people so concerned with the environment had ever experienced something like this. I thought about the fact that I am a hunter. I harvest from the land and yet I love the land. And there are people in this world that would want to take my right to hunt away from me. Had they ever spent the night in the ruins of a former foundation to feel a connection to nature and the past? Had they ever quenched their thirst from a source of water other than a city tap? Did they wonder where the water from a spring comes from and where it goes? When they were 32, had they ever spent a Saturday morning in early March walking the banks of an unnamed spring to see where it discharged? If they hadn’t, did they love the land more than I do? Even if they did, I doubt they loved it more than me.
As I continued walking downstream, I could see where the leaves were overturned and where a deer trail formed. The trail seemed to appear out of nowhere from the open woods and converge to one particular spot where there was a creek crossing. Why did all of the deer feel the need to cross at this one particular spot? They could easily cross it anywhere they would have wanted but yet there was a distinct crossing located here. I inspected it closer and saw a horseshoe shaped erosion pattern on each side of the creek where the deer’s hoof would knock a little bit of dirt into the water that would get washed away. After hundreds of deer crossed (or perhaps one deer that crossed here hundreds of times?) it had wore down that distinct horseshoe shape that is so familiar to archery hunters looking for sign to setup on. I remembered shed-hunting fanatic brother Jim tell me that creek crossings were better than average places to locate shed antlers so I spent considerable time letting my eyes pick the ground apart looking for anything out of place that may have been an antler. The reason these locations were good, I remember him telling me, was when a buck would jump across the stream, the impact of him hitting the ground on the other side could jar loose an antler that was almost ready to drop. This was not one of those crossings as the deer didn’t have to jump to get across this small stream; they could simply walk through it.
I continued my quest down the stream empty-handed and stopped at a spot where the water spilled over a rock in the water & created an aerated pool of water. It was only probably 12” deep or so but it was the deepest pool I had found yet. As I watched the water rushing over, I caught movement from two water bugs darting across the top of the water. I actually welcomed seeing the activity from another living creature since I had not seen a single animal, bird, or insect for that matter on my entire trip. The closest I had gotten was listening to the crows and the lone turkey gobble earlier that morning. I watched as they slid around the top of the water and I could tell where they were contacting the water by the small circular impressions on the top of the water at the ends of each of their four legs.
I looked up towards where the water was flowing and I caught sight of sunlight glistening off of a large body of water through the trees about 200 yards in front of me. It was a pretty majestic view and I imagined what it would have been like to be the first person to gaze on a particular body of water like one of the early settlers. I had set my eyes on the prize that I was seeking and I didn’t notice anything else about the small creek for the next 200 yards as my gaze was now fixed on the reservoir ahead. When I finally got to the actual spot where the spring discharged into the reservoir, I already knew where I was. It was a familiar spot where my buddies Josh, Jake and I had crossed last spring during our slip trip when we worked our way fishing up the north side of the backside. Unbeknownst to me, a year earlier my foot had already been submerged in the same water that was now supplying my campsite but I didn’t know it at the time. It made me think about how many similar occurrences may have happened in my life where I had an encounter with someone or something that seemed new to me but in fact our paths had already crossed at some point in the past; but I didn’t or perhaps I couldn’t know that they had. This discovery seemed like a fitting outcome for my micro-adventure considering my camp back in the foundation. Perhaps, I had already somehow crossed paths with someone who had lived in that foundation but I just didn’t know it. I glanced down at the stream and saw a small minnow darting up the stream. How far would he make it? Perhaps the next time I took this walk, I would catch a glimpse of him sharing the deep pool with the water bugs.
I stood on the bank of the reservoir for at least 10 minutes just taking it all in. It was a beautiful Saturday morning with rising temperatures and a baby blue sky. A dog barked non-stop up the hollow. It was a reminder that I was closer to other people here than I was back at The Foundation. It was time to head back. I had walked down on the stream’s west side and I would walk on the opposite side of the stream on the way back. As I turned around, I heard the honk of a goose overhead although I never did catch sight of it. It was a sound I had not heard since the fall when I heard them honking their way south in a v-shaped pattern in the sky as I sat on the soccer field watching Pauly chase the black & white ball across the green grass in his #6 uniform.
On the walk down, not a single tributary that I had noticed flowed into the stream from the west side. Would it be the same walking back the east side? I decided to count how many I crossed on the way back to The Foundation. I crossed one and then another. After I crossed the second one, I saw something shiny lying on the ground ahead of me that I knew instantly didn’t belong out in the woods. Regardless of what it was, I was a bit perturbed that someone would litter out here and I knew that I was going to pick it up and dispose of it properly. It was rectangular and partially buried under the leaves but I recognized it as lamination. It was face down and my first impression was that someone had laminated their hunting license to keep it from getting ruined by rain or snow and they had lost it. With that thought in mind, I relaxed and was prepared to give the perpetrator some leeway since they would have obviously lost it while they were out enjoying the woods like I was. I’ve found several hunting licenses out in the woods over the years and I always try my hardest to track down the person who lost it and return it to them; it’s what I hope someone would do if they ever found my lost license lying somewhere. When I picked it up and turned it over, I found that it wasn’t a hunting license at all but a laminated piece of paper that read:
“Congratulations!! You received a balloon released from the United Methodist Church 2015 Reunion. PLEASE return this card or email the information on this card (include your name and our church member’s name) to: wdshields##@yahoo.com or mail to:”
And they had the person’s name and address listed. I could see where they used a hole punch in the laminate to obviously tie the balloon to but the balloon was nowhere to be found. I expected the hole in the laminate to be torn indicating that the balloon had been ripped from it similar to the way a piece of paper gets torn out of a 3-ring binder but the hole was perfectly intact and there was still a laminate “hanging chad” as a matter of fact. So where was the balloon? I was a bit irritated because if it wasn’t here, then it was more than likely laying somewhere out where it didn’t belong. If that was the case, then there was nothing I was going to be able to do to make sure it wound up in a trashcan. I have mixed feelings about these balloon releases but then I remembered Pauly releasing a balloon last year at Community Days. It was an accident however and not intentionally released.
Thinking of Pauly made me think of Maddie & my wife Angie at home. Angie was worried about me spending the night out in the cold alone and I hadn’t gotten to send her a message this morning saying I was OK since my battery had died. I plugged my phone into a portable power pack I had brought with me and went to send her a message. I had 1X service meaning that even sending a text message was going to be a struggle if it even sent at all. I typed out the message “Phone died….ok though 9:59am”. I wanted to put a time stamp in the body of my message in case I didn’t get enough service to send the message for quite some time. At least if she got the message, she would know that I was OK at least up until that point. I pushed the send button and put my phone back in my pocket.
I crossed the third and final tributary and stopped to admire a mighty red oak that seemed to pierce the sky before I ended up back at The Foundation. I started the task of breaking down what was left of camp. My sleeping bag had dried delightfully in the time I was off on my micro-adventure. Back into its stuff sack it went and then into my pack. It ended up taking me quite some time to get everything situated back into my pack. After the big items (sleeping pad, tent, sleeping bag, cookset) were put into the main body of my pack, I took whatever articles of clothing I had and stuffed them in around those bulkier items to take up whatever precious space was left. I quickly learned that on these types of trips, weight and volume are a premium. I caught on quickly with the latter but the former was going to take some work.
Even though this was only the second time that I had put some of the items back into the same pockets that I had originally taken them out of, I found that my mind was already becoming familiar with what gear belonged in which pocket which is important. My mind drifted to my goose-chases for items back home that took me from the garage to the basement to the closet to the junk drawer. There’s nothing more frustrating than KNOWING that you have what you need SOMEWHERE but not knowing exactly where it’s located. A lot of times, my frustration ended up in driving to Walmart or Lowes and purchasing what I need only to find the item in the not so distant future.
Everything was finally loaded and the compression straps were all cinched down to keep the load from shifting as I walked out. I leaned my pack against the foundation wall one last time while I scoured The Foundation floor for gear, just in case I had cheated on my black garbage bag system and inadvertently left something lying there. I could only find two things out of place; the pile of rocks from my fire ring and the remnants of charred wood from my morning fire. If that’s the only litter that I would leave behind, I could live with that type of pollution. I was reminded again of my buddies and our first slip trip that has now turned into an annual much-anticipated trip. We camp at the same spot every year and the first year when we selected our site, we had to construct a fire ring. My buddy Josh found the remnants of an old fire ring that someone had made about 30 yards from where we were constructing ours. The rocks were covered in moss and you could easily have walked past it if you didn’t look down. We dug up each of those stones and carried them back to our site. We “recycled” someone else’s fire ring and now it’s our own. That’s a great memory from our first slip trip.
I walked over to my pack and rather than pick it up and swing it around onto my shoulders, I turned around, squatted down, and slid my arms through the shoulder straps. I wanted to let my legs doing the lifting but even so, it was still a heavy load. I would be carrying 30oz. of water in my pack this time instead of an empty 30oz. container but I had also eaten all of the food that I had carried on the way in so the weight was probably more or less equal. I eased my way up the staircase with the assistance of my trekking poles. When I got to the top, I turned around to take one last look at my motel in the woods. Would someone else ever spend a night here? When I’ve gone to be with the Lord and there’s no record of my life left in existence, I bet The Foundation will still be here. Will someone in the future happen upon it and decide to spend a night here? Will they think back on the people who lived before them and think about the memories made in this foundation that must have been so important to someone? If they do, hopefully I’m able to give them a sign from above and even though I didn’t know who they were during my time at The Foundation, I had indeed thought about them.
I turned around and started my venture out. Instead of heading down the trail to the tram road I had walked in on, I turned and headed the opposite direction, up towards the spring house. I planned my exit route different from my entry route. For some reason, I don’t like backtracking if I can help it. Even when I take road trips in the car, I’d much rather not take same route home as I did on my way there. I don’t know if it’s something about always moving forward in life and never going backwards if you can help it. I put my ear buds in and clicked my mp3 player to shuffle the 500 songs I had loaded on it. When I listen to music, I generally know what I want to hear and I select the songs I want so I’m not surprised by what song plays next. My decision to shuffle my entire library fit the mood I was in perfectly as I ventured up the trail. I was greeted by songs from Queensryche, Iced Earth, Bert Jansch, Zoe Speaks and Red Hot Chili Peppers. The only song I had to skip was one by Nirvana which just didn’t fit the mood I was in.
My planned exit route was going to take me directly away from my truck but then I would catch the dirt road on the other end and walk in a large circle back around to it. I got about halfway out and with no leaves on the trees, I was able to spy a camp down over the hill. If there was a camp, then I knew there was a driveway which would lead me to the dirt road I needed. As I approached the back of the camp, I kept my eyes open for any posted signs. I crossed a small spring where occupants of the camp must have gotten some water since they had set a series of cinder blocks into the bank resulting in a crude staircase down to the water. I looked down and came across a pair of plastic lens covers that someone had lost from their scope. From where I found them, I surmised that the person had walked out the back of the camp to take up their deer post up on the ridge. I picked them up and as I walked passed the front of the camp, I set them on a table that was beside the front door. I knew they weren’t anything special and the person who lost them more than likely didn’t even care but it was the right thing to do and so I did it.
I walked out to the end of the driveway and took a left onto the dirt road. It wouldn’t be long now. The weight of the pack was noticeable and several times I adjusted the shoulder and load straps to see if they would make a difference. A couple hundred more yards and it finally happened; I caught the glare of my pickup truck off to my left. It was bittersweet, as I knew that I was close to having the weight of this pack off of my back but I knew that also meant that my inaugural trip to The Foundation was officially coming to a close.
As I closed the distance to my truck & pushed the “unlock” button on my key fob, the technological world that I had left behind came rushing back and with it, all of the stress of works, meetings, and schedules. I felt content though knowing that I had accomplished a lot in the 19 hours that I had spent at The Foundation. God willing, I’ll be back again and maybe then I’ll even spend two nights.
-Paul
What's left of the original spring house.
The start of French Onion Soup.
Dishes washed & drying.
-Paul
I had gotten all of my gear together over the winter to do my first solo camping trip. The weather was supposed to be unseasonably nice for this time of year and so I had all of my stuff loaded in the truck for after I got off work on Friday at 4:00. I had to stop at home quickly to change and grab the cooler in the fridge that stored my chilled food. All winter when I was planning my first solo trip, I thought about many different locations and courses which would provide an adventure but I always knew where my first trip would be; “The Foundation”.
I discovered “The Foundation” about 5 years ago in the springtime when I was shed hunting and scouting for archery season. It was about 12’ x 20’ and dug down about 5 feet into the ground, which made a nice area to stay down out of the wind. There was no trace of any wood structure remaining that would have been on top of the stone. The ground inside the foundation was soft & a bit spongy from the leaf litter and pine needles that had been deposited in it over the decades. Some beech trees had germinated and were scattered randomly inside the foundation with the largest being about 10 inches in diameter. One end of the foundation had an entryway in the middle of it with the remnants of a stone staircase that had collapsed and been taken over by moss. It provided a slippery way to access the middle of the foundation. I remember standing in the middle of the foundation and thinking about how it had held up a structure that must have been important to someone at some point in time. Who? I’d never know. They were more than likely passed on from this life and yet this foundation provided a connection to us both. For me, I was standing where someone I would never meet stood during a simpler time that I knew had once existed. For them, although they didn’t know it at the time, they had stood where someone who did not yet exist would stand in a future they could not imagine.
I made the 90 degree turn to the left. I pulled into the next road on the right and parked at the yellow gate. It was about 5:00pm. I grabbed my pack which was far from lightweight backpackers standards and headed up the tram road. From scouring over other backpackers’ lists on online forums, I knew that I would be carrying much more than most people did but this trip was going to be a test for me to see what was truly essential and what I would be able to pare down on future trips. During my planning process as I ran through all of the “what if” scenarios, all of the items that I carried on my back seemed like a necessity. I think it’s somewhat of common thought process for most guys but even more so because of who my Dad is. Anyone who has been around the “Old Boy” knows that he doesn’t go anywhere without having everything he would need to change an alternator, perform CPR, cut a venison bologna tray and be able to perform all 3 of those tasks at the same time. Except for that one time where he needed wood glue, but that story is for another time. Some of his “preparedness” gene definitely wore off on me but I try to suppress it the best I can.
I could tell within 100 yards up the tram road that the pack I got might not cut it. I had selected this pack because it had a pouch designed to carry a gun in between your back and the body of the pack. It’s a great design if you are carrying a gun but on this trip I wasn’t. To ease the weight of a load on your back, you try to have a center of gravity close to your core. I pulled the straps that tighten the pack close to my back but instead of pulling the weight closer to my back, it made the Velcro gun pouch come apart and subsequently the weight was pulled away from my body which made it a lot harder to carry.
Another thing I noticed right from the outset was that I was forced to slow down from my normal walking pace. That’s OK though because when you’re in the outdoors, all you have is time. As a matter of fact, I purposely didn’t wear a watch and I enjoyed the thought of equating “time” with how much daylight was left in the day; the way the wildlife does. I had about a mile walk to The Foundation and multiple times I felt my breathing increase and nature reminding me to just slow down; strike one.
It took me about 25 minutes to reach the creek crossing where I turned north and headed up to the foundation. A big thing that was on my mind with the dwindling sunlight was gathering enough firewood for cooking and having a nice fire after dark since it was supposed to get down into the 20’s and I wasn’t sure how warm I was going to be in my tent. My sleeping bag was rated to 20 degrees but I wasn’t sure if that was the comfort rating or the lower limit rating so I had packed extra fleece clothing to layer up if necessary. I had also pulled the trigger earlier that week on CamoFire as a silk sleeping bag liner just showed up on their website. This liner was supposed to add at least 5 degrees of warmth to your sleeping bag in addition to keeping the inside of your sleeping bag clean. Both of those features sounded attractive to me so I had made the decision to purchase on Monday. I was hoping that it would arrive at my doorstep before my trip and I was pleasantly surprised when I got home after work today for my food and found the package waiting for me.
I made it to The Foundation, set my gear down and begun the first task at hand; getting my tent up. The wind is typically out of the west and I thought that I would want my tent against the western wall of the foundation to serve as a break in the event any wind stirred up. In my haste to get setup, I didn’t bother to take several moments to stand still and actually feel what the wind was doing; I didn’t know it at the time but nature’s umpire just called strike two. Setting the tent up beforehand at Dad’s house helped me understand how it went and I was set in no time at all. This was the first time I used the footprint that came with the tent and it helped keep everything neat and clean and helped me select the most level spot to erect the tent. This was also the first time that I had the whole tent fully staked out. It’s rated as a 2-person tent and it looked really cozy. There was plenty of room for me as well as all of my gear to be in the tent and out of the weather.
While I was moving around the foundation setting my tent up, I noticed that there were some stones laying in the foundation that had fallen off over the years from the top. I gathered some of the bigger stones to fashion a small fire ring. I would locate the fire ring on the east side of my tent so that the west wind would blow any smoke away from it. Also to the east of my tent was the large 10” beech tree. It had a small lean towards my tent and looked like an ideal spot to sit around the fire and lean back comfortably against. When I was packing my gear, I remembered my buddy Josh during our annual slip trips would purposefully not bring a chair since he preferred to sit more primitive Indian-style on the ground around the fire. I was looking forward to sitting in that fashion on this trip and packed a large, black garbage bag to put down to try and keep from tracking any more debris than necessary into my tent. I laid out the garbage bag onto the ground to the east of the beech tree and began constructing the fire ring to the east of my garbage bag. One of the stones were large and rectangular and I recognized right away that it could be used as a nice food prep station so I positioned it in the southern-most position where I anticipated I’d be cooking from. The firewood I was collecting then got piled on the northern-most side of the ring; opposite from where I’d be prepping food.
After the fire ring was setup, I was bent on getting enough firewood to purify water, cook on, and have a nice fire to sit around after dark. The foundation is in a stand of tall pine timber and there were lots of dead branches within reach on the lower sections of the straight trunks. I pulled out my 17 oz. Gerber Backpax and removed the green plastic sheath and started hacking off some of the sticks and throwing them down into the foundation. At first, I started breaking sticks & twigs from the trees surrounding the foundation since it was the easiest to get to. I then thought that I should save the easily accessed wood in case I needed more after dark so I left what was still there and gathered additional firewood from farther up near the spring. It had rained heavily Thursday night and even though it was a nice day Friday, there was a damp feel to the area and even the dead sticks still had a bit of moisture to them. I was a bit disappointed because damp wood equals smoke and the Kelly Kettle relies on wood & twigs to cook with which meant I was probably in for a lot of smoke. Good thing I have everything arranged to the upwind side! I got a nice pile of various diameter sticks together and even felled a small dead pine and drug it back to the foundation. I tried wedging it between two trees and using leverage to break it into smaller pieces. Even though it was probably at least 12’ long, it was still too stout for me to break so I lowered the small end down into the foundation and figured I could burn it in small sections, starting at the small end, if need be.
Once the firewood duty was completed, the next thing my mind went to was getting water and purifying it through boiling. I had not carried a drink in and I was thirsty from the walk in and hustling to gather firewood before dark. I knew that I would have to boil the water before I drank it and I wanted to get some boiled and cooling down so I could get a drink.
Water was an essential commodity and at 8lb. per gallon, I knew that I would not be carrying any significant volume with me on the way in. I had given my water gathering a lot of thought before my trip. There always has to be water in the Kelly Kettle cylinder when you have a fire in it or else you could melt through the Kettle so at all times I would need an empty container to put raw water in to fill the Kettle. The Kelly Kettle I had holds 54oz. of water. Once it had boiled, I would need a container to pour the purified water into and it couldn’t be the same container that I used for raw water since I would be using that one to re-fill the Kettle in order to keep the fire going and cook my food on. Additionally, I was worried about pouring boiling water straight into a plastic container so I would need a third container that was made of metal to allow the boiling water to cool down before transferring to my plastic container.
Most of the backpackers on the forums that I had frequented in my planning process used instant coffee or something similar for ease of preparation as well as weight savings since they didn’t have to lug a percolator in their pack. I had found an aluminum coffee percolator (identical to one that my Dad owns & I had used on prior camping trips) in the attic of the house my wife and I purchased in 2012. It was like a hidden treasure when I found it and from the time I decided to pursue solo camping, one of the things I most looked forward to was sipping a cup of joe in the middle of the awakening woods that was perked over an open fire so I was determined to bring it along regardless of the added weight.
For water purposes, I had finally settled on a 50oz. container to gather raw water in, a 30oz. container to store purified water, and I would use my aluminum coffee percolator as the vessel to hold the purified water in to cool until I transferred it into the 30oz. container. Best case scenario I thought, I could boil one kettle of water, pour it into the percolator and fill the kettle back up with the 50oz. container. Once the 2nd kettle boiled, I could pour the water from the percolator into the 30oz. container since it will have cooled by then and then pour the freshly boiled water into the empty percolator. I could refill the kettle for the third time with my 50oz. container and let this water boil the entire time I was cooking my meal. When I was finished eating, the cooled water in the percolator would go into the 50oz. container and I could put the silicone stopper in the Kelly Kettle resulting in 3 vessels with purified water in them. It seems like a lot of thought went into it but the last thing I wanted to do was get out in the woods and realize that I have boiling water in my Kettle which is supposed to be my drinking water and I have no container to put it into.
The foundation was built adjacent to a spring that has always had water in it every time I was there. I ventured up to the head of the spring where someone had built a spring house and I suspected drew water from. It was a small seep and not deep enough to fill the 50 oz. or 30 oz. plastic containers. I walked back down the spring passed the foundation and found where there was a spot where the water was running over a rock and formed a small pool. I used my foldable trowel to dig down into the pool and expand how much water could pool there. I had to move some moss out of the way and used a large rock to hold it back. Finally I was able to fit my big 50 oz. bottle into the pool but it would only fill about halfway up before the water wouldn’t go in anymore because the back end of the bottle was sticking out of the water and the air couldn’t escape. I had to dig the pool out a little more so that I could fit the bottom of the bottle in the pool with the mouth of the bottle being the highest part and that way all of the air could escape and the bottle would fully fill up. I was anxious to get the bottle into the pool but I had stirred dirt up and the water was cloudy. This was another moment where I was forced to slow down and get out of the go, go, go rhythm of everyday life. After only about 20 seconds or so, new water had filled the pool and all of the cloudy water was washing down the spring behind me. My green 50oz. bottle filled up in no time and I poured the contents into the Kelly Kettle beside me and inserted the orange silicon stopper into the Kettle’s waterspout to keep debris from getting into it. I filled the 50oz. bottle to the top again, capped it and started back to the foundation with 100oz. of water in hand. I thought back to winter and how I was thinking about different destinations for some of my solo trips. During that time, I had envisioned camping way up on a high ridge in the mountains of Cameron or Potter counties. I quickly realized on the short walk back to the foundation that water is rarely found on the top of a high ridge. If I could only carry 100oz. at a time then I would be running back & forth a lot! And that wasn’t counting the water that I would use for dishes, hand washing, etc. It dawned on me that it was going to be vital to camp near a water source and I also realized that it’s no coincidence that this foundation (along with many others) was located near a water source.
Back at the foundation, I got to the task of building a fire in the Kelly Kettle to get the first batch of water boiling. I started rooting around my pack to find my lighter & soap container that had my cotton balls & petroleum jelly. As I was digging, I kept setting things out that I knew I would need when I started cooking. Pretty soon, I had a lot of items sitting on the forest floor and I noticed the green sheath that I had taken off of my Backpax earlier laying there as well. I could see how easily some items could be lost or misplaced so I decided that any time I had to set something down, I would set it on the black garbage bag. If I had to move it off of the garbage bag, it went back into my pack. This system would ensure that I didn’t inadvertently set something down and forget about it. It isn’t as crucial at this location since if I did realize I left something behind, it’s close enough to home that I could simply walk back and retrieve it. However, if I do a multi-day trip in a more remote location, an item could be lost permanently. It was good to at least start to get into the habit.
I got a fire going and as expected, I had quite a bit of smoke coming from the Kelly Kettle. For some reason, while I was sitting on the black garbage bag (to the west of the fire) the smoke was still blowing towards me. It was almost as if the wind was coming out of the east! Then it dawned on me that earlier when I was deciding what wall to put my tent against, I simply based my decision on what the wind was supposed to be doing; not on what it was actually doing. “What a dummy” I thought to myself because I had experienced this far too many times during archery season when the weatherman said the wind was supposed to be a certain direction and I chose my stand location based on his prediction but I never stopped to check the wind until I was standing at the base of my tree. It only took a time or two of lugging all of my gear to my stand location and having the wind blowing from the opposite direction than what Mr. Weather predicted for me to take the small amount of time to step outside and feel what the wind was actually doing before choosing my stand location. In my haste, I didn’t take the few seconds to stop. Stand still and feel what the wind was doing. It was supposed to be coming from the west but it was actually coming from the east. Nature will teach me to slow down. Strike two.
My first batch of water came to a boil and I let it go for a couple minutes before pouring it into my aluminum percolator. I refilled the Kettle with 50oz. that I had gotten earlier and I stoked the Kettle by dropping sticks and twigs down into it. While the 2nd batch of water was heating up, I took the empty 50oz. container back to the pool to refill it. It was getting dark by this time and I had to use my headlamp to navigate. I filled the container up and headed back to the foundation. It was also starting to get slightly chilly so I started a fire in the ring for some added warmth. While I waited, I poured the raw macaroni from my EasyMac into my bowl. The water came to a boil and I transferred the water from the percolator into the 30oz. bottle and then transferred the water from the Kettle into the percolator. I refilled the Kettle from the 50oz. container and poured some of the just-boiled water that was in the percolator into my bowl of macaroni. I set it on top of the Kelly Kettle to work its magic and I began prepping my onion for making French Onion soup.
As I continued prepping, I realized that there aren’t multiple burners out here where you can multi-task and your French Onion soup gets done at the same time as your EasyMac; that’s a feature of the everyday go-go-go world. I began to think about the reality of the life I was presently living. If I was thirsty, I couldn’t just turn the tap on and get a drink. I would have to walk to the water source, collect the water, carry it back, start a fire, boil the water and let it cool. I thought about how my planned pancakes, eggs, and sausage breakfast would work out the next morning. At that point, I realized that I still hadn’t had a drink yet. I poured two packets of pink lemonade flavoring into the 30oz. bottle and shook it up. I felt disappointed as the bottle was still hot and felt like it hadn’t cooled down at all! But as I took a drink and felt even the hot liquid quench my thirst, I was reminded of Dick Proenneke and how while living out in the wilderness of remote Alaska for over 30 years and eating a rather plain diet, he commented that he just seasoned the simple foods with hunger. At that moment, I knew exactly what he meant. I would slow down and enjoy what nature provided. Tomorrow morning, I would have a 3 course meal rather than one big meal with 3 items. Every task out here, even EasyMac required effort. And that’s exactly why it was easily the best tasting EasyMac I’ve ever had!
I finished dinner and rinsed out the dishes I had dirtied with some of the hot water from my percolator. I strapped on a headlamp for additional lighting as I finished up. I experimented with the 3 settings (red, high white, low white) on my headlamp since I wanted to conserve as much battery life as possible. The red was not quite enough light and the high setting was more than enough. I settled on the low white setting to help me finish rinsing out the dishes. They weren’t completely clean but I would wash them more thoroughly in the spring in the morning. It was now completely dark and I was so busy doing things that I hadn’t noticed the sun set. Was it beautiful? Were there small hints of clouds still in the sky that became dazzling & fluorescent as the sun disappeared? Or did the sun simply sink lower and lower below the horizon offering no visual spectacle? The answer had been right in front of me if I had only taken a moment to stop and notice it. I told myself that I’m not going to make the same mistake when Mr. Sun reappeared 180 degrees from where he disappeared. A man only gets so many sunsets & sunrises in his lifetime and the only thing that’s guaranteed is the one you just experienced brings you one closer to meeting your Maker.
I stoked up the fire in the ring and moved my black garbage bag to the east side of the fire ring to avoid the smoke. I sat down, switched off my headlight and enjoyed the flicker & warmth of the flames. The air was getting noticeably colder now and I was anxious to get tucked into my tent and see how my +20 degree sleeping bag was going to work out. I looked over at my stack of sticks & twigs and realized that I had gathered probably 2 or 3 times more than I would burn. And to think I was in such a rush to get it. I let the fire burn down and spread the coals out to let them fizzle out.
Inside my tent, I exchanged my brush pants for some fleece lounge pants that I had brought with me. I left the Merino Wool base layers on both my top and bottom as well as the 2 pair of socks that I had worn on the way in to prevent blisters from forming on my feet. The silk liner seemed like it was thin enough that it could tear and my fleece pants kept catching on the liner as I tried to get into it. Finally, I got nestled with my feet at the bottom of the liner and then I slid the liner farther down into the sleeping bag. I had unzipped the sleeping bag all the way to assist with getting situated and my heart skipped a beat when I reached back down, pulled the zipper and it came sliding up with the teeth only gripping one side of the sleeping bag! I had only owned one other sleeping bag prior to this one and it was manufactured in such a way that the zipper was permanently attached to both sides of the zipper and if for some reason it came “unhinged” from one side it could only mean one thing; it was broken. I knew that the only way I was going to have a chance at sleeping comfortably in sub 30-degree temperature was if my sleeping bag was able to retain most of the heat that my body would give off and that was not going to be possible if it was wide open on one side. I was pleasantly surprised to see my newly purchased sleeping bag was actually designed to be completely unzipped and I could re-zip it as easily as I zipped up my jacket. I was now snugly tucked in and I was looking forward to listening to some Appalachian folk music before I fell asleep. I got my mp3 player out and positioned the earbuds into my ears. Before I turned it on, I made the sign of the cross and spent several minutes praying to God who had blessed me so abundantly not only on this particular trip out in His wonderful creation but for all of the blessings He had given to me in my life. I didn’t deserve any of it but yet He had given it to me anyway. I try to love God in everything I do to the best of my ability. Perhaps that’s all He asks of me. I was reminded of the Gospel passage where Jesus tells His disciples to ask and they will receive, seek and they will find. He goes on to ask them what kind of father would give their son a serpent if he asked for bread? I thought of Pauly and how as his earthly father, I wanted to give him every good thing I possibly could and I would never hand him something bad when he wanted something good. Jesus goes on to say that even if human fathers (who are wicked by nature due to sin) know how to love their sons and give them good things, how much more will the Heavenly Father (who is the perfect Father) give good things to those who love Him. As usual, when I stopped and gave God even just a few minutes of my life, His grace entered my life and everything for the moment made perfect sense. I layed there content and perfectly at peace. Although I was utterly enjoying the solitude, my mind drifted to my 6-year old Pauly at home and how I wished he could be lying here beside me. In due time. I finished praying and concluded the same way I had started; blessing myself with the ancient sign of the cross. I listened to quite a few songs before turning off my mp3 player and drifting off to sleep.
I had rolled over a few times during the night but for the most part had a satisfying night’s sleep. When I bought my sleeping bag, I had the choice of a regular size or long size. I opted for the long size since I wanted the extra room and it paid off as I was able to slide all the way down to the bottom, pull the top of the sleeping bag over my head like a blanket, and still be able to lay stretched out. I could tell it was cold out because when I would breathe in, I could feel the cold air being pulled in from the opening at the top of the sleeping bag even though I was still toasty inside. One time, I had rolled over and my arms were inside my sleeping bag but outside of the silk liner. I repositioned and put my arms inside the liner and it was noticeably warmer which made me satisfied that I had spent the $34.99 for it.
I woke up around 6:30am and washed my face with a rag and cold water from my 50oz. container before I got out of my sleeping bag. I got dressed in the tent and stood up to see the sun low in the sky and piercing through the tall timber. It was a satisfying sight. I had coffee on my mind and after brushing my teeth near the southeastern corner of the foundation, I started getting the Kelly Kettle ready to provide me with some hot joe. As the first batch of water was coming to a boil, I found the coffee I had packed in a small one-serving plastic container. I prepped the percolator with the coffee grounds and when the water boiled in the Kelly, I filled up the percolator with the boiling water and set it on top of the pot support to begin the perking process. It didn’t take long until I started seeing clear water bubbling up through the clear plastic knob on top of the percolator. Before long, the clear water had turned brown and I had my coffee.
I swapped out the percolator from on top of the Kelly with one of my cook pots. I began cooking breakfast starting with the sausage since it would create some grease that I could cook the eggs and pancakes in afterwards. As expected, I ate each item individually as it finished cooking rather than having a big meal all at once. The end result was still the same however; my stomach was full. More importantly however, I was feeling satisfied that I was finally experiencing a trip that I had been dreaming about for many months. It was all finally here but just as quickly, it would be over and I wanted to savor every minute of it. I poured my 3rd cup of coffee and I navigated up the dilapidated staircase and picked a spot on top of the foundation that had the least amount of moss to sit down. As I sat there enjoying the morning woods, a single gobble sounded from the east behind me. That was my dessert. It didn’t have the full roll of a Tom gobbler and I speculated that I had heard an immature bird. I mouthed off some crow calls to try and get him to respond again so I could confirm my suspicions but no such luck.
I stood up with my half-empty cup of coffee and took a small walk about 100 yards around the foundation. By the time I had gotten back to the foundation, I had an empty cup. I knew I didn’t have time for a long hike but I knew that I wanted to get out and do something before I packed up for the day and left. From reading about other outdoorsmen that would go on back-country hunts and setup a base camp that they would return to after pursuing elk or muledeer all day, I was eager to have a base camp of my own; albeit a smaller version of one. I had given this part of my trip quite a bit of thought before hand as well and I settled on exploring where the spring that provided The Foundation water ended up. I knew ultimately that it spilled into the reservoir but I wanted to know the exact spot. Like the guys I had read about, I was going to set out from my base camp but instead of pursuing trophy big game in rocky wilderness & pristine scenery, this would be my own “micro-adventure” here at The Foundation.
I was eager to get started on my hike but as I looked down into The Foundation, I saw all of the dirty dishes that were left over from breakfast. As much as I wanted to set down my empty coffee cup and start exploring down the spring, I knew that the dishes would still be there waiting for me when I got back. Furthermore, back at home when I know that there is work to do along with something that I’m looking forward to doing, if time permits, I try to discipline myself and always perform the work first before I get to enjoy the other activity. It’s a great motivator for me personally and it helps me to work hard & efficiently since I know that there is a reward waiting for me. Additionally, if I forego the work and instead do the pleasurable activity first, the work is still waiting for me but now I don’t have any motivation to complete it since I cheated and rewarded myself before the work was done. There would be no exceptions out here. I gathered the dishes and ventured down to the pool I had dug out to wash them. As I scrubbed & rinsed, I noticed a rock that seemed out of place at the bottom of the pool. I reached down and grabbed it and identified it as a piece of broken glass. It was just a small piece that fit in the palm of my hand but I could tell from how thick the glass had been that it was obviously very old. I smiled as I thought about how this piece of glass was another connection to the past and I wouldn’t have discovered it if I hadn’t been doing this “work” that I was dreading. I pondered about how the key to living a full & happy life is finding enjoyment in the smallest things even while you are at work or doing something you’d rather not be doing. I was reminded of some Scripture passages that call on Christians to rejoice in the Lord always and in all things give thanks. With my mind preoccupied, the dishes were done in no time. I lined them up on the flat fire ring stone to hopefully dry before I got back from my hike.
I looked over at the tent and decided to organize everything inside to make packing up easier for when I returned. I’m glad I did because as I went to pack my sleeping bag in its stuff sack, I felt a bit of moisture on the outside of it; probably from condensation that morning. I got everything else put away and took my sleeping bag out to find a place to hang it while I was gone. I glanced towards the west and noticed the sun’s rays shining onto some of the trees. I picked out a spot that had branches low enough that I could reach and I draped my sleeping bag over the branches with the wet side facing the warm rays of sunlight; nature’s own dryer.
Finally, I was able to begin my micro-adventure. I started walking down the spring. The banks were steep on either side of it but the water itself was only running at the very bottom. There must be times during flood season or spring runoff when it flows at much greater rates and increased erosion. I watched how the water flowed indiscriminately down the valley wherever gravity & the path of least resistance led it. It dawned on me that this spring had ran before I existed, it was running while I existed and it would continue to run even after I existed. It too showed no signs of partiality and it would continue to run regardless of my state of life. I was again reminded of Scripture and how God allows the sun to shine & the rain to fall on the just and the unjust equally in this present age. I remembered when I first heard Father Robert Barron use that passage to explain how bad things can happen to good people and how good things can happen to bad people in this world. We live in a world of free will and just because you choose to do right (according to God’s law) all of your life doesn’t mean that you won’t be negatively affected by circumstances arising from other people’s free-willed wrong choices. In the same way, if someone decides to cheat or take advantage of someone in the stock market, God isn’t going to stop that person’s investment from growing and making that person wealthy. God doesn’t intervene and right every wrong, in this present age. However, in the age to come, God will indeed right every wrong and the scales of injustice will be balanced and righteous men will be repaid for their righteousness and wicked men will be punished for their wickedness. It was a very satisfying explanation for me personally.
As I continued walking down the spring that had now turned into a small creek as other springs joined it, I noticed how when the banks were small & constricted, the water flowed through swiftly but when the banks were wide, the water evened out and the flow was slowed and turned into a pool. I looked up and was in awe at how high the trees towered over me. I was surrounded by unblemished nature and I wondered if anti-hunters and people so concerned with the environment had ever experienced something like this. I thought about the fact that I am a hunter. I harvest from the land and yet I love the land. And there are people in this world that would want to take my right to hunt away from me. Had they ever spent the night in the ruins of a former foundation to feel a connection to nature and the past? Had they ever quenched their thirst from a source of water other than a city tap? Did they wonder where the water from a spring comes from and where it goes? When they were 32, had they ever spent a Saturday morning in early March walking the banks of an unnamed spring to see where it discharged? If they hadn’t, did they love the land more than I do? Even if they did, I doubt they loved it more than me.
As I continued walking downstream, I could see where the leaves were overturned and where a deer trail formed. The trail seemed to appear out of nowhere from the open woods and converge to one particular spot where there was a creek crossing. Why did all of the deer feel the need to cross at this one particular spot? They could easily cross it anywhere they would have wanted but yet there was a distinct crossing located here. I inspected it closer and saw a horseshoe shaped erosion pattern on each side of the creek where the deer’s hoof would knock a little bit of dirt into the water that would get washed away. After hundreds of deer crossed (or perhaps one deer that crossed here hundreds of times?) it had wore down that distinct horseshoe shape that is so familiar to archery hunters looking for sign to setup on. I remembered shed-hunting fanatic brother Jim tell me that creek crossings were better than average places to locate shed antlers so I spent considerable time letting my eyes pick the ground apart looking for anything out of place that may have been an antler. The reason these locations were good, I remember him telling me, was when a buck would jump across the stream, the impact of him hitting the ground on the other side could jar loose an antler that was almost ready to drop. This was not one of those crossings as the deer didn’t have to jump to get across this small stream; they could simply walk through it.
I continued my quest down the stream empty-handed and stopped at a spot where the water spilled over a rock in the water & created an aerated pool of water. It was only probably 12” deep or so but it was the deepest pool I had found yet. As I watched the water rushing over, I caught movement from two water bugs darting across the top of the water. I actually welcomed seeing the activity from another living creature since I had not seen a single animal, bird, or insect for that matter on my entire trip. The closest I had gotten was listening to the crows and the lone turkey gobble earlier that morning. I watched as they slid around the top of the water and I could tell where they were contacting the water by the small circular impressions on the top of the water at the ends of each of their four legs.
I looked up towards where the water was flowing and I caught sight of sunlight glistening off of a large body of water through the trees about 200 yards in front of me. It was a pretty majestic view and I imagined what it would have been like to be the first person to gaze on a particular body of water like one of the early settlers. I had set my eyes on the prize that I was seeking and I didn’t notice anything else about the small creek for the next 200 yards as my gaze was now fixed on the reservoir ahead. When I finally got to the actual spot where the spring discharged into the reservoir, I already knew where I was. It was a familiar spot where my buddies Josh, Jake and I had crossed last spring during our slip trip when we worked our way fishing up the north side of the backside. Unbeknownst to me, a year earlier my foot had already been submerged in the same water that was now supplying my campsite but I didn’t know it at the time. It made me think about how many similar occurrences may have happened in my life where I had an encounter with someone or something that seemed new to me but in fact our paths had already crossed at some point in the past; but I didn’t or perhaps I couldn’t know that they had. This discovery seemed like a fitting outcome for my micro-adventure considering my camp back in the foundation. Perhaps, I had already somehow crossed paths with someone who had lived in that foundation but I just didn’t know it. I glanced down at the stream and saw a small minnow darting up the stream. How far would he make it? Perhaps the next time I took this walk, I would catch a glimpse of him sharing the deep pool with the water bugs.
I stood on the bank of the reservoir for at least 10 minutes just taking it all in. It was a beautiful Saturday morning with rising temperatures and a baby blue sky. A dog barked non-stop up the hollow. It was a reminder that I was closer to other people here than I was back at The Foundation. It was time to head back. I had walked down on the stream’s west side and I would walk on the opposite side of the stream on the way back. As I turned around, I heard the honk of a goose overhead although I never did catch sight of it. It was a sound I had not heard since the fall when I heard them honking their way south in a v-shaped pattern in the sky as I sat on the soccer field watching Pauly chase the black & white ball across the green grass in his #6 uniform.
On the walk down, not a single tributary that I had noticed flowed into the stream from the west side. Would it be the same walking back the east side? I decided to count how many I crossed on the way back to The Foundation. I crossed one and then another. After I crossed the second one, I saw something shiny lying on the ground ahead of me that I knew instantly didn’t belong out in the woods. Regardless of what it was, I was a bit perturbed that someone would litter out here and I knew that I was going to pick it up and dispose of it properly. It was rectangular and partially buried under the leaves but I recognized it as lamination. It was face down and my first impression was that someone had laminated their hunting license to keep it from getting ruined by rain or snow and they had lost it. With that thought in mind, I relaxed and was prepared to give the perpetrator some leeway since they would have obviously lost it while they were out enjoying the woods like I was. I’ve found several hunting licenses out in the woods over the years and I always try my hardest to track down the person who lost it and return it to them; it’s what I hope someone would do if they ever found my lost license lying somewhere. When I picked it up and turned it over, I found that it wasn’t a hunting license at all but a laminated piece of paper that read:
“Congratulations!! You received a balloon released from the United Methodist Church 2015 Reunion. PLEASE return this card or email the information on this card (include your name and our church member’s name) to: wdshields##@yahoo.com or mail to:”
And they had the person’s name and address listed. I could see where they used a hole punch in the laminate to obviously tie the balloon to but the balloon was nowhere to be found. I expected the hole in the laminate to be torn indicating that the balloon had been ripped from it similar to the way a piece of paper gets torn out of a 3-ring binder but the hole was perfectly intact and there was still a laminate “hanging chad” as a matter of fact. So where was the balloon? I was a bit irritated because if it wasn’t here, then it was more than likely laying somewhere out where it didn’t belong. If that was the case, then there was nothing I was going to be able to do to make sure it wound up in a trashcan. I have mixed feelings about these balloon releases but then I remembered Pauly releasing a balloon last year at Community Days. It was an accident however and not intentionally released.
Thinking of Pauly made me think of Maddie & my wife Angie at home. Angie was worried about me spending the night out in the cold alone and I hadn’t gotten to send her a message this morning saying I was OK since my battery had died. I plugged my phone into a portable power pack I had brought with me and went to send her a message. I had 1X service meaning that even sending a text message was going to be a struggle if it even sent at all. I typed out the message “Phone died….ok though 9:59am”. I wanted to put a time stamp in the body of my message in case I didn’t get enough service to send the message for quite some time. At least if she got the message, she would know that I was OK at least up until that point. I pushed the send button and put my phone back in my pocket.
I crossed the third and final tributary and stopped to admire a mighty red oak that seemed to pierce the sky before I ended up back at The Foundation. I started the task of breaking down what was left of camp. My sleeping bag had dried delightfully in the time I was off on my micro-adventure. Back into its stuff sack it went and then into my pack. It ended up taking me quite some time to get everything situated back into my pack. After the big items (sleeping pad, tent, sleeping bag, cookset) were put into the main body of my pack, I took whatever articles of clothing I had and stuffed them in around those bulkier items to take up whatever precious space was left. I quickly learned that on these types of trips, weight and volume are a premium. I caught on quickly with the latter but the former was going to take some work.
Even though this was only the second time that I had put some of the items back into the same pockets that I had originally taken them out of, I found that my mind was already becoming familiar with what gear belonged in which pocket which is important. My mind drifted to my goose-chases for items back home that took me from the garage to the basement to the closet to the junk drawer. There’s nothing more frustrating than KNOWING that you have what you need SOMEWHERE but not knowing exactly where it’s located. A lot of times, my frustration ended up in driving to Walmart or Lowes and purchasing what I need only to find the item in the not so distant future.
Everything was finally loaded and the compression straps were all cinched down to keep the load from shifting as I walked out. I leaned my pack against the foundation wall one last time while I scoured The Foundation floor for gear, just in case I had cheated on my black garbage bag system and inadvertently left something lying there. I could only find two things out of place; the pile of rocks from my fire ring and the remnants of charred wood from my morning fire. If that’s the only litter that I would leave behind, I could live with that type of pollution. I was reminded again of my buddies and our first slip trip that has now turned into an annual much-anticipated trip. We camp at the same spot every year and the first year when we selected our site, we had to construct a fire ring. My buddy Josh found the remnants of an old fire ring that someone had made about 30 yards from where we were constructing ours. The rocks were covered in moss and you could easily have walked past it if you didn’t look down. We dug up each of those stones and carried them back to our site. We “recycled” someone else’s fire ring and now it’s our own. That’s a great memory from our first slip trip.
I walked over to my pack and rather than pick it up and swing it around onto my shoulders, I turned around, squatted down, and slid my arms through the shoulder straps. I wanted to let my legs doing the lifting but even so, it was still a heavy load. I would be carrying 30oz. of water in my pack this time instead of an empty 30oz. container but I had also eaten all of the food that I had carried on the way in so the weight was probably more or less equal. I eased my way up the staircase with the assistance of my trekking poles. When I got to the top, I turned around to take one last look at my motel in the woods. Would someone else ever spend a night here? When I’ve gone to be with the Lord and there’s no record of my life left in existence, I bet The Foundation will still be here. Will someone in the future happen upon it and decide to spend a night here? Will they think back on the people who lived before them and think about the memories made in this foundation that must have been so important to someone? If they do, hopefully I’m able to give them a sign from above and even though I didn’t know who they were during my time at The Foundation, I had indeed thought about them.
I turned around and started my venture out. Instead of heading down the trail to the tram road I had walked in on, I turned and headed the opposite direction, up towards the spring house. I planned my exit route different from my entry route. For some reason, I don’t like backtracking if I can help it. Even when I take road trips in the car, I’d much rather not take same route home as I did on my way there. I don’t know if it’s something about always moving forward in life and never going backwards if you can help it. I put my ear buds in and clicked my mp3 player to shuffle the 500 songs I had loaded on it. When I listen to music, I generally know what I want to hear and I select the songs I want so I’m not surprised by what song plays next. My decision to shuffle my entire library fit the mood I was in perfectly as I ventured up the trail. I was greeted by songs from Queensryche, Iced Earth, Bert Jansch, Zoe Speaks and Red Hot Chili Peppers. The only song I had to skip was one by Nirvana which just didn’t fit the mood I was in.
My planned exit route was going to take me directly away from my truck but then I would catch the dirt road on the other end and walk in a large circle back around to it. I got about halfway out and with no leaves on the trees, I was able to spy a camp down over the hill. If there was a camp, then I knew there was a driveway which would lead me to the dirt road I needed. As I approached the back of the camp, I kept my eyes open for any posted signs. I crossed a small spring where occupants of the camp must have gotten some water since they had set a series of cinder blocks into the bank resulting in a crude staircase down to the water. I looked down and came across a pair of plastic lens covers that someone had lost from their scope. From where I found them, I surmised that the person had walked out the back of the camp to take up their deer post up on the ridge. I picked them up and as I walked passed the front of the camp, I set them on a table that was beside the front door. I knew they weren’t anything special and the person who lost them more than likely didn’t even care but it was the right thing to do and so I did it.
I walked out to the end of the driveway and took a left onto the dirt road. It wouldn’t be long now. The weight of the pack was noticeable and several times I adjusted the shoulder and load straps to see if they would make a difference. A couple hundred more yards and it finally happened; I caught the glare of my pickup truck off to my left. It was bittersweet, as I knew that I was close to having the weight of this pack off of my back but I knew that also meant that my inaugural trip to The Foundation was officially coming to a close.
As I closed the distance to my truck & pushed the “unlock” button on my key fob, the technological world that I had left behind came rushing back and with it, all of the stress of works, meetings, and schedules. I felt content though knowing that I had accomplished a lot in the 19 hours that I had spent at The Foundation. God willing, I’ll be back again and maybe then I’ll even spend two nights.
-Paul
What's left of the original spring house.
The start of French Onion Soup.
Dishes washed & drying.
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