Day 29, August 16: Symmetry

Day 29, August 16: Symmetry (pictures to follow)

I’m camped at Spearfish City Campground for the night, the same campground where I camped the first night out. I find some pleasure in the symmetry of this – both my first and last night’s camping in the same place. I also find pleasure in that this campground is in South Dakota, the state where I lived for so many years of my life. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel the same kind of affection for Iowa that I do for South Dakota.

As I was planning my route from Cody to Spearfish, I noted the town called Thermopolis, Wyoming. What a great name for a town. I thought I must see this town and it was along the scenic route anyway. So an hour or so into the drive, I came upon Thermopolis. It happens to be the site of the largest natural mineral hot springs. Or that’s its claim to fame anyway. I pulled into the city park where a steaming stream ran into a number of plateaus of hot pools. The town has built a boardwalk system around the pools and incorporated and rebuilt an old suspension bridge over the main river there.

I walked the boardwalk and put my hands in the hot water. Although there was a slight smell that is common with hot springs, that smell was mild. There were small water parks and a free indoor and outdoor pool for bathing in the springs if one chooses to. I noticed most of the names in the register were local folks. I was tempted, but the road called. So after my exploration, I continued my drive east.

Wyoming is a beautiful state, especially when you get to the Big Horn National Forest. I crossed it at a more northern spot on the way out, and it still was breathtaking, even after the higher and more dramatic peaks I’ve seen over the last 30 days. I love the jagged, rugged look of the mountains there, and they awaken something kind of primal in me. And driving the winding roads with their steep upgrades and downgrades is always exhilarating.

I arrived in Spearfish around 3 p.m., and after selecting a campsite and throwing up my tent, I headed to the visitor’s bureau to get information on trails. The woman there was very helpful and I selected a hike about eight miles out of town in the Black Hills National Forest.

Since it was so late in the afternoon, I selected a shorter trail and only hiked four miles. I could have hiked more – I can’t explain how much I am energized when I set out on a hike, especially when it takes me through tall trees and lush undergrowth. There has to be something magical that comes from tree energy; I feel it every time. Even if I begin a hike without much enthusiasm, it is quickly there, pulling me along.

I knew this would be the last hike of the trip – I drive home tomorrow. As I was striding through the trees, I pondered what I was going to do to keep this going. Fortunately, I have two good parks nearby for hiking: Stone Park just a few miles from my house and Ponca State Park in Nebraska, about 45 minutes away. And as long as the weather holds, I’m shooting for at least one or two hikes a week. I also have some good nature trails at WITCC, so if I need a break from work, I can hit those for an hour or so. I also think I might try a little snowshoeing and cross country skiing this winter. I just know I have to get out to the woods or wilderness on a regular basis.

Knowing this is my last night camping is a bit emotional. My goal had been to not stay in any hotels, and I haven’t. The only bed I’ve slept in since leaving on July 19 was at my sister Sally’s. (Thanks again Sally! It was fabulous!) I’m sure it will feel good to be back in a bed again, but I’ve grown very comfortable in my tent with my little blow-up mattress, my Mickey Mouse comforter (that was Nick’s all those years ago), and my sleeping bag. It’s been cold and it’s been hot, but I’ve always been pretty comfortable. Last night, with the wind off the lake and the cold I was concerned how it would go, but I slept like a rock.

I would have never thought I would love camping like I do. That point, after setting up camp and getting things I need from the car, when I build a fire and cook dinner or just enjoy the flames, is my favorite time of the night. I’ll miss the campfire most I think. I did buy myself a little fire pit for my yard, but it’s just not the same.

I’ll also miss the casual life camping affords. I haven’t worried much about makeup or how good I look or anything like that for a month. (Except of course when my friend called me “Halle Berry dipped in vanilla.”) Right now, as I write this, I’m sitting here in some old, too large shorts, an oversized hoodie, green wool socks and hiking sandals. Not a high fashion look. Not even a low fashion look. But a comfy, camping kind of look I imagine. Now I go back to work on Monday and it’s makeup and straightened hair and matching outfits every day.

I’ll also miss the random connections I make with perfect strangers on the road. Writing this blog entry is taking about an hour longer than it should because my neighbors at the campground, a couple with five grandchildren with them, keep coming over to visit. I’ve shared my Easytether application information with them and they shared a good weather app with me. I know about their daughter, how many children she has, where they live, that they farm, when they decided smart phones were necessary on the farm, and some other details of their lives. What a great opportunity traveling is to touch others. I’m the kind of person who is friendly anyway, but this offers so many interesting, diverse opportunities for connection. (Anna said once, after we left a Casey’s store where I’d been visiting with the cashier, “We have friends everywhere, don’t we?” )Yes, Anna, we do.

I won’t miss dirty fingernails and sleeping with clothes on. Being able to stay clean is a challenge when you’re on the road and camping. I have come to value hot showers and flushing toilets and water from a spigot to brush my teeth with in the morning. But those are such trivial concerns, and easily remedied eventually.

So I’m closing the camping portion of this journey tonight, and tomorrow, after my drive across South Dakota, life will resume as usual. But I have a feeling usual has shifted for me; usual means something different to me now.