We’re starting something new. We got an Opus OP2 camper. We brought it home and gave it a good shakedown. Our first trip is on the calendar and we’ve got more to come this summer. It’s changing the way we think about our free time and what we might do with it.

Stay tuned!

It’s been a minute since the last update. I was using this space to mark time and perhaps I should get back to that. The summer disappeared and suddenly, fall is right behind it. This picture was from a radio expedition to West Branch State Park. I do enjoy a quiet Saturday morning.

We’re still well. Still in the pandemic. Still adapting in place and preparing for more changes as we roll into 2022. Such a strange thought that a year would have that number.

The holidays are here.

We took some time in West Virginia to visit The New River Gorge National Park. It’s a beautiful state and a beautiful river. The rafting was amazing!

Most importantly, it was quiet. No WiFi at the cabin. Spotty cellular service. The way a vacation should be.

Most days are ending with a turn through the park. 3 to 6 miles of terrain with some amount of gear and a large puppy. The first run through the park with what will be the bulk of my gear for the backpacking trip was pretty good. I remembered why I loved this particular pack. It’s 50L and will more than hold what I need it to hold. Certainly better than a half-empty 75L pack would.

With the optional radio gear, it isn’t too bad. Given that the longest day is set to be about 12 miles, I think taking the radio will be worth it. Not taking it would, in some small way, invalidate having purchased it at all. Not really, but that’s one way to talk myself into the extra weight. And more importantly, I’m learning that this pack and the gear that I’ve selected will likely be perfect for summer conditions in most settings. Depending on the circumstances, a tent might be preferable to the hammock setup (imagining a place with no good trees) but that might go in a separate bag on a bike.

Yes, the thoughts are trending toward bike packing. I doubt that I will do any this summer as my current bike is really only good for paved surfaces, but in the fall (assuming a new bike is available) I could probably squeak in one quick weekend just to see how it feels and to scratch the itch.

In the meantime, backpacking and doing portable radio seems like a good way to spend some summer.

The weather couldn’t quite decide what it wanted to do with itself. At first, it was bright, then grey, and then, after much deliberation, a torrent of rain that made mowing in the afternoon impossible and changed the trajectory of the evening. With dinner eaten, Bella and I got in the Jeep and headed to Towners Woods for a turn through the park. We got our 3 point something miles in. She loves riding in the open air of the Jeep. She also really enjoys walking in the terrain. It definitely makes her tired. We kept a good (for a so-called middle-aged dude and a puppy) pace of about 20 minutes per mile.

The trees were all beautiful and green. The park was almost devoid of the noise of humans. There was the sound of us moving along the trail and of some ladies taking a walk further up the trail. Luckily, they took a different route before we could overtake them. They were moving just fast enough that we would have to move really quickly to get through and past them without awkward conversation.

My pack was not as loaded as it should have been. Next time I go, I will take my radio pack with gear in it. Or more likely, I will take the mid-sized Kelty that I have and fill it with gear. I want to see how it sits on my back and how it feels over a 3 mile stretch. It might be a contender for my minimalist load out for the summer backpacking trip with the troop.

The drive home was as good for Bella as the drive there, but maybe better because she was hot, tired, and got a really nice breeze in her face. She can’t seem to figure out how to get in and out of the Jeep on her own just yet. She always needs a very embarassing boost to get her hindquarters in. She will figure it out eventually. Or maybe not?

3 miles at a time. That’s how we do it. The loop we walk through the woods runs almost exactly 3 miles from getting out of the Jeep through to getting back to it. The trip we have planned for this summer is about 6 miles on the average day. With a current pace of 3mph, that’s about 2 to 2.5 hours a day on the trail. Not a long time. Of course, the trip is in PA, so the terrain will be loaded with ankle-rolling rocks and other nasty stuff.

But to prepare ourselves, we walk our loop. 3 miles at a time. Next week, we’ll be doing 2 loops with each trip. And then we’ll load up the packs. We’ll be ready.

Late May and the kayak is touching the water for the first time. The past few weekends were just a bit too cool. Funny how the same temperature in the fall won’t be nearly the same barrier that it is today. That’s the difference between warming up and cooling down.

It was quiet enough. A few people out fishing. More people just paddling or motoring around. Only electric motors are permitted in this body of water. The water was higher than last season which made passing under the bridge to get to the larger section of the reservoir a bit more treacherous for taller folks.

It was wonderful to glide across the water and get outside in general. For some reason, this past winter was very closed in and left a feeling of claustrophobia. Anything to stretch the arms or legs is welcome.

There are artifacts everywhere. Bits and pieces of things that were. In this case, it’s a file on a hard drive that lives on a slowly failing computer. It opened accidentally when I launched an application and a project that is years old now is staring at me. I should finish it.

What is it? A series of essays that center around the guitar and the twists and turns of my life. I wasn’t always in a good place emotionally and the guitar has for years been an anchor or a lighthouse. Either holding me in place or at least showing me how not to crash on the rocks.

So the polishing of these sketches and essays will start. Maybe they’ll never see the light of day. But after flipping through my buddy Jeff’s book of poems this week, it seems like something I should do.

Amazing poems, buddy. Amazing.

It’s April. I need to remind myself of my childhood. This was common then. No one counted on snow being gone until late May. But here I was getting shorts out of the closet and getting ready for fishing. I guess I could still fish, but snow makes it a little less attractive.

It amazes me that we’ve already mowed the grass twice at this point.

Snow.

There is cleaning to do. Gear to check. And maybe a few improvements to implement before the season gets underway. One of those is a nifty GPS/Sonar unit for finding fish.

Yes, this is a toy for a toy. No, I don’t need a fish finder to assist in the Not Catching Of Fish. Sensor data is fun. Building out something like this for inclusion on the kayak will provide opportunities for learning something new and generally screwing around with fun stuff.

But that’s a project for next weekend. In the mean time, I will clean things up.

Trees are green. The grass was mowed for the first time. Yard brush was chopped up. I had my first bike ride out with the boy. We have some garden plans and beds set up. There are bees everywhere (including our yard where they are burrowing into a patch back by what will soon be a flower garden). The world is warming again.

I’m looking forward to an afternoon in the hammock. Hikes in the green. Warm nights with windows open. And evenings on the patio enjoying the air.

And perhaps a few updates here and there.

The mornings are grey in an Ohio winter. Even on days that turn blue in the afternoon, the morning seems to creep in slowly and turns the lights up gradually. It helps ease into the day for sure now that every day starts in the same way.

If there’s something to remember from this global ordeal for someone who was privileged enough to be a brain in a jar it is the monotony. Every day is so very similar. It numbs the mind from time to time and it creates a feeling of being weary. Not tired. Tired can be fixed by a good night’s sleep or a quick nap. This is weary. There is no physical rest that restores.

So we go to the parks. We breathe the cold air of early winter. We read and write. We consider things at depth. Or we simply watch and let go. Just for a moment.

The snow blinks in and out of existence at this time of year. There will likely be rain tomorrow for 10 minutes and it will all be gone. I enjoy these first few dustings. It’s so beautiful and brings a silence with it that I catch myself dreaming about from time to time.

March snow is a different beast altogether.

But this is November. November of what will undoubtedly be a long and grueling winter for many, many reasons. All of the self-inflicted wounds will be fully infected and inflamed by next week and we will have no choice but to stop everything again. Perhaps this time, we can plan for what we might do to make sure we’re not here again in March.

Some days are longer than others. Even in winter.

It wasn’t much, but it was snow. Most of the lawn was covered and there was enough out there for my daughter to go out and roll up a snowman. Today? It’s all gone and the grass is green. Mother Nature was just testing the room. It’s still chilly out and it’ll warm up in a bit and then head back down. Such is life in this part of the world.

I do love the transition from autumn to winter.

I put out the last of my bird seed. A trip to the hardware store should happen this weekend so I can stock up. I really enjoy having them there outside my window. They’re only a few feet away. They make for good company.

I don’t imagine that the seed will last the morning at the current rate of consumption. They aren’t the same birds that were stopping by when I put up the feeder. These are the birds who will tough it out. A woodpecker just stopped by for some.

Simplicity.

I set goals. Every year I try to lay out a three year plan. It’s a little obsessive, but it keeps things moving and gives me a North Star for navigation in decision making. Every month, I re-evaluate them. And quarterly, I do a brain dump to see if what I’m thinking about now squares with where I wanted to go. I tried to do my monthly review at the beginning of the month and the associated brain dump and…it all stopped.

I looked at the different categories and some of them are just…meaningless in our current climate. So many things either don’t matter anymore or are not achievable that I have to toss out major chunks of The Plan.

Now look, I already did that when we made a massive move to another state during a global pandemic. But even the last bits of lattice I had from The Plan in the Before Times is now gone.

My wife and I walked the dogs at the park Sunday. It was quiet and beautiful. The trees are lit up in colors and the dogs got good and tired. I felt much calmer after that (and before the puppy threw up in the car on the way home). It occurs to me that I need to give more room to the recreational. Maybe what I need are goals around things that aren’t capitalized in “Plans.”

I’m starting to see that we’re not going back.

Parks. Hiking. Camping. Bicycles. Kayaks. It’s been all outdoors, all the time for a lot of people since the COVID train left the station. I will argue that this switch in how we spend leisure time, or how we keep ourselves sane, is a net positive from these Strange Days. For our family, one of the only activities that has managed to stay somewhat in tact is Scouting.

Scouts are very good at following rules. Things like masks and distancing are taken very seriously. I saw some pretty solid behavior on the part of some Webelos this weekend as they prepared for a hike and enjoyed a cooking demonstration by yours truly.

Yes, I was in fact gloved and masked during all food prep. We minimized at every step. The Scouts had a great time and so did the adults.

Since I was doing the cooking, I didn’t get to enjoy the adventure of wandering less than maintained trails with excitable fourth graders, but it’s the sacrifice we make for the program, right?

It was a beautiful day. Perfect temperature. Sunny. Breezy. The trees were colorful. It was everything one could ask for in a fall day of hiking. We could all relax and enjoy some time in the open air. It feels good. That’s why we’re all doing so much of it. Funny that we might have forgotten.

For years, the arrival of autumn was a time to bug out. Bags would be packed, a car loaded, or a train boarded. I would head out to Somewhere Else. I do get a strong sense of wanderlust in the summer, but when the air gets cool and the leaves turn, it feels like it’s time to hit the road. To bug out. To head off to… I don’t even know anymore.

This winter, we have our new home. We have new traditions to build. We’ll have to find a pumpkin patch and a place to get a Christmas tree. Our old traditions will need some minor tweaks.

But there’s an empty backpack over there. There are checklists. There’s gear that seems ready to go.

The hardest thing to do now, it seems to me, is to stay engaged with the real world. All of the “doom scrolling” and watching every blip and fleck of digital vomit fly forth from the mouths of people who are paid to be popular does very little to improve one’s life or to keep one engaged with the Real World. The truth is, whatever it is he’s doing this morning, the digital ruminations of the POTUS have very little to do with what’s going on in the room in which we sit.

There are things that pull us back out of the hole we seem to slip into all too easily. One of those things in our house is Bella. She’s about 3 months old. She’s a 45-ish pound rottie. She demands attention. It’s very, very hard to doom scroll when this spazzy, growing pup is trying to eat a shoe or chew on the furniture.

This really is the best time for a puppy. We’re all in the house. She has plenty of people to play with. There are creatures with thumbs to open the door for her or refill her water bowl. Even the daily walk happens. And for the bipedal denizens of the house, this is a great thing.

This is not to disparage Nacho, the elder states-dog of the house. He’s just way more relaxed and spends most of his time napping in my office while I work. He’s not as needy.

As I poke at my hobbies and get through the day, it’s important to me that I note the things that keep me engaged with my world. The things that bring joy.

I went on a glorious hike with the Scouts on Saturday. My son got out with a crew that he seems to enjoy spending time with as he is slowly able to stretch out and tries to make new friends in a new place that we’ve been living in for over 6 months. And I got to walk with a dear, old friend. Hiking with this gentleman is nothing new. We’re older now and perhaps a touch slower, but it was fun.

I took no pictures but the one on top of this entry. It was far too nice a day and the hike was far too enjoyable to burst any bubbles with getting out a phone and tapping out pictures for a blog that I’m rather spotty about updating. Or for any other reason. It’s important to forget the tech and bask in the trees whenever possible. The world is more beautiful when not viewed through a camera’s lens.

I’m not sure how many sunny days there will be for the remainder of the year, but I don’t mind hiking under the lead grey skies of NE Ohio. In fact, I rather enjoy hiking in the snow.