A Journey of Empowerment: My Solo Camping Adventure
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Chapter 1: The Roots of Adventure
My very first camping experience took place when I was merely three months old. My family would pack our VW van with essentials: blankets, pots, food, water, hiking gear, cameras, and games, and we would venture into the wilderness of New Mexico's mountains for a few days of rough camping.
We were an adventurous family, engaging in gardening, hiking, backpacking, and camping. Unlike the plush, air-conditioned camping style prevalent today, our camping was more authentic and rugged. Today's campgrounds often resemble parking lots, crowded with RVs and neighbors a mere few feet away, making it feel no different than being at home, minus the comfort.
Rough Camping: Cherished Memories
Our style of camping was about embracing nature. With latrines that consisted of a shovel and toilet paper, we learned to dig our own holes. Even with the VW van, we soon outgrew it and transitioned to a heavy canvas tent that required effort from my family to set up. I was often nestled next to my mother, father, or brother by the entrance.
Through these experiences, I learned essential skills: building fires safely, packing in and out, and storing food away from wildlife by hanging it from a tree. I sang songs from my Camp Fire Girl days after enjoying hearty meals, gazed at the stars, and became adept at dressing in a sleeping bag without exposing myself to the cold.
I also learned to carry a whistle while hiking for emergencies and practiced basic first aid. My father instilled in me the idea that snakes were more afraid of us than we were of them, although I still held a healthy respect for them.
We camped frequently, exploring beautiful landscapes in the deserts of the Southwest. My father preferred educational vacations over the typical amusement park trips, and while I cannot recall every location, the memories of the majestic trees and mountains remain vivid.
As I matured and attended college, it was crucial for my partner to share my love for camping. I thought I found that in my ex-husband, but our camping experiences were similar yet different. After our separation, I faced emotional challenges and felt the urgent need to connect with nature again. I planned a camping trip in the Southern mountains of New Mexico, near Cloudcroft and Ruidoso, at a campsite named Cedar Creek.
Chapter 2: Embracing Solitude
In my quest for independence and self-discovery, I packed my truck with gear, including a lantern, camp stove, and a blue enamel percolator for coffee. I prepared for a week-long adventure, setting out for four different campgrounds in nearby National and State Forests. Accompanying me was my loyal 120-pound black German Shepherd, affectionately named Hootie due to his frequent flatulence.
Going camping alone represented a significant milestone for me as a young woman. I wanted to rely on myself, not on anyone else. My father was apprehensive about my decision, but I was determined.
Hootie and I spent our first day at Alto Lake, where he reveled in the water while I set up our campsite. As I unpacked, I noticed Hootie behaving unusually, climbing onto the picnic table, which was out of character for him.
Suddenly, I spotted a yearling bear grabbing one of my food containers and sprinting off with it. I shouted for it to return, drawing the attention of the camp host, who offered to help retrieve my food.
The Unexpected Trophy
The camp host, Ed, returned triumphantly, holding the bin above his head and cheering, “I have a trophy for you!” To my relief, he hadn’t harmed the bear. Instead, he explained that the young bear was foraging for food after losing its mother.
Ed shared that he had scared the bear away using a makeshift noise-maker, and I was left to consider the idea of camping alone with a hungry bear nearby.
I found Hootie sound asleep under the picnic table, seemingly oblivious to the bear encounter. I took a moment to gather my thoughts and felt a mix of relief and fear. Did I really want to sleep in my tent, knowing a bear was around? But I reminded myself that I had come to prove my resilience.
As the sun set, I prepared my camp, cooked a comforting stew, and secured all food items in a bear-proof manner. Despite my fears, I decided to sleep in my tent with Hootie, embracing the challenge head-on.
The night passed without incident, and I woke up feeling accomplished. I had faced my fears and proven to myself that I could camp alone. When I eventually opened the bear's prize bin, I realized it contained only canned goods. I couldn’t help but think that had the bear taken the other bin, it would have found an enticing collection of snacks.
By the end of my week, I returned home feeling empowered, eager to share my story with my father. When he asked how it went, I proudly told him about my adventure and the bear encounter, and we both laughed at the thought of Hootie being blissfully unaware.
Gypsy Stew Recipe
1 pot and 1 large stirring spoon
- Half a rasher of bacon, diced
- 1 pound of hamburger (serves at least two to three meals)
- 1 can stewed tomatoes
- 1 can tomato paste
- 1 cup of water
- 1 can corn
- Optional: 1 green pepper, finely chopped
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- 1 pound of grated cheddar cheese
- 1 bag of Frito chips
- 1 clove of garlic (or garlic salt)
- Salt and pepper to taste
Start by cooking the bacon, onion, and hamburger until fully cooked. Add the corn, tomatoes, tomato paste, and optional green pepper. Stir everything well and add water to achieve your desired consistency. Season with salt, pepper, and garlic. Serve hot, topped with cheddar cheese and enjoy with Fritos.
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