Adapting to Florida

I have to say first, that I am not a lover of heat and humidity. That said, Florida is a very poor choice for me to attempt to live, especially as an outdoor enthusiast. On the other hand, it is so hot and I am sufficiently uncomfortable that eating is much more of a chore. Over the past couple years, as my depression worsened, eating made me feel better. While I did not balloon back up to my previous high weight, I did make an attempt at it, and the sixty pounds I put back on certainly adds to the discomfort. However, one of the last things I want to do now is eat, and when I finally do, my portions are much more moderate. Unfortunately the other part of the equation is activity and all I want is shade and a fan while sweat beads up and rolls down my arms.

 Fauna have been entertaining so far. We are currently camped on a little hill which seems to be riddled with ant warrens. We sprinkled some diatomaceous earth around our temporarily claimed territory and they seem to be willing to accept the armistice for now. Our clothing is treated with permethrin and skin gets dusted with picaridin while citronella candles and scented plaques work to against the mosquitoes and ticks. Lizards scatter every time we head to the bathhouse, barred owls hoot at us and bullfrogs serenade from the cypress dome. The ground is soft enough I needed to sacrifice some tennis balls to put over the feet of my chair to stop me from sinking and falling over. A large tarp covers the screen house to help with the heavy rain. So far the Y style stakes are holding in the sandy soil just fine.

A tree, Spanish moss and sun combine for interesting shadows 

Driving is a different experience as well. Just the way things are laid out and traffic patterns are set isn't what I expect. On the drive down, it seemed like once we traveled out of the pit of diaspora which continually spewed from the DC/Baltimore area, there was a significant difference. While Atlanta had some traffic, it just seemed easier to deal with compared to the furious desparation I was accustomed to. Yes there were lane jumpers and the usual shenanigans you get when there is six or seven lanes of congested urban traffic. I want to say it felt more respectful. It was easier to maintain a decent distance between my car and the one in front, and other drivers responded to my turn signals with courtesy. 

When it came to stopping for comestibles or other needs even the people were helpful. Unlike the Martinsburg area where we were typically greeted with gruff "not my department" or other lowest common denominator service. I don't expect much, just some decency. The apparent short supply in that area was a deciding factor in this change of situation. Until moving away I only suspected how inhumane the area was.

The First Weeks

It was only with great trepidation that the change to a fully nomadic life was embarked upon. Many difficult decisions had to be addressed, assessed, and finally either slain with prejudice or postponed with enthusiastic procrastination. Chief among them was plans to immediately begin an adventure much like an unfortunate Hobbit.

For years I had endured the struggle of moving in the direction of simplicity and modest means but found it difficult to eschew the extravagances foisted upon me by social pressures. I continued to drive the same tired vehicles, held together as much by force of will as by the required repairs. This blog itself was started at a time when switching to laptop from desktop and after losing convenient internet. I continued my wonder whether the technology of the time could further my approach to simplicity and nomadicism. It proved out, but my own inner censor prevented much of the logging of that process. I wonder now if it was mostly an incompatible schedule, which interfered with other aspects of my creative endeavors.

I am composing this from a shady campsite at Amicalola Falls. I am typing on a small Samsung tablet and my internet is through the hotspot on a matching smartphone. The water for my coffee and oatmeal was heated in a stainless tea kettle on a propane stove made by Coleman twenty years ago. In a footlocker to my left there is three weeks' worth of dry goods, I have water filters and other chemical means to make water potable. I have sufficient solar collectors to maintain my electronic devices and various batteries. The site does come with all the power and water I need, but I have the options should a site not have them readily available.

Life has consisted largely of driving hundreds of miles, as per plans. The first night was at a Dispersed Camping Area prior to entering Red River Gorge. The following days were at various campsites with either limited or no amenities, but the assets possessed made life comfortable. Trips were made back to civilization to raid WiFi and eat unhealthy food, only to return to camp, hike and eat camping rations. Other lodging was purchased when we felt the need for machinery to launder clothes and limitless clean water to contaminate with either soaps or other bodily soils.

Eventually we made our way to southern Illinois where the second part of our adventure plans placed us in the path of totality for the solar eclipse. We fought heat and humidity, but persevered. Special photographic filters had not been added to the list per the plan, but extra viewing glasses were on hand to create them with the addition of adhesive tape and things scavenged from the trash. That Saturday night I participated in a transformative activity wherein we walked barefoot upon a pathway of glowing coals of cedar. The eclipse came and went with a few hours devoted to observing and recording it. After this we watched all the others attendees of the festival flee to their social normative existences. Accordingly, we executed the third part of our plans, reducing and prepacking our camp.

I should mention that some time every day was set aside for creative pursuits. Whether that be photo or videography, other graphic arts or processing the photos and videos gathered previously. I do not find it possible to keep up with my collections yet, but it is just a matter of time.

Today's adventure will be the viewing of the falls, which I am presently preparing my equipment for. I would like to take a few longer exposures to capture the flow of the waterfall as a misty, dreamy blur.

In Every Ending, There is a Beginning

The struggle has been real. I've needed and wanted to relaunch this blog. Yes, again. As I sit here in Red River Gorge, I am reflecting on the things that had to happen to get me here.

This blog has always been about finding, learning to use and replacing outdated technology with newer. The aim being, to simplify and make more accessible a freer lifestyle. To be comfortable accomplishing frequent moves to take advantage of life's opportunities. To become nomadic if that was the desire.

To that end, the past several months have been spent quite literally shedding thousands of dollars of possessions. The purge was extensive and I would be remiss if I did not admit that it was painful. In the end, I feel as though I am close to answering, for myself, an important question. "What does one need to live?" Not just survive, but live. To go about the activities of life, and feeling fulfilled and satisfied.

Turning back time a little, allow me to explain an interest I had when younger. I liked camping, but my family always traveled in an RV of some sort. Us kids were evicted to tents when we parked. I asked a few times about carrying my tent into the woods a ways and my father bought me a copy of a popular magazine devoted to backpacking. The hook was set then and there. Unfortunately that was where parental support ended. I was able to collect some gear, but never everything I needed and requests to try what I had out fell on terrified ears. A class trip to dayhike a trail as part of a science lession didn't help. Soon the desire to hike was set aside because of the misguided expectation to chase the american dream.

About a year ago, while in existential crisis and psychotherapy, the desire to just go for a long walk came back. The topic of the Appalachian Trail came up. Research started, gear was accumulated from my extensive stocks and plans began to be made. One overnight trip later and I decided to jump on it with both feet. No halfway, quit the secure job, dump everything non-essential and go. I am a technology addict, so some things could not be parted. I am an amateur photographer and discovered vlogging. Seems hiking and those things go well together. I have a gift in writing, and morning or evening wordsmithing is also apropos.

To get ready and really decide I wanted to do such an undertaking I completed a section hike on the AT. I started just north of Harper's Ferry and ended on the morning of the sixth day at Pine Grove Furnace to take the half gallon challenge. As out of shape as I was, I still averaged decent miles, and after six days I was ready for a break, but not wanting to stop. Thus the die was cast.