A Little Bit of WILD In Me

     I'm sure you've read a book that speaks to you. Reminds you of your younger life and brings you back to revisit your actions, thoughts and feelings. 

     Whether happy or sad, it reminds us how far we've come. This happened to me as I read Wild by Cheryl Strayed. I instantly found myself thinking about a younger time, probably age 20 or 21. A very free and happy time in my life. We were hiking/biking for a week straight until the rain took over. We traveled from home, up through the Kancamangus Highway with all our gear stowed in our bike panniers and backpacks. I remember sewing those panniers at home on my sewing machine, hoping my machine would hold up to velcro straps and canvas. As I sewed, I planned our trip in my head, how to cook on the trail and what to bring. I read camping books and cookbooks. I was a regular at EMS. Located in Mamaroneck, NY, while I lived in Westchester at the time. I knew about sleeping bags, closed cell mats and single burner stoves. I learned how to cook an egg in a brown paper bag, how to fashion a camp oven and even bake on the trail. (I don't remember doing this though). I dreamed of NH and our weekends together but especially this trip ran through my mind as a symbol of freedom and a return to nature.
                             

             

     Cheryl called her pack, "Monster", and how she felt it was an appendage of her body. She packed rather heavily but everything had a purpose. She could repack all her gear into it in record time, knowing all her belongings and where they fit like a puzzle. I remember putting a lot of thought into "just the essentials" and packing them efficiently. I even had a good luck pickle pinned to the outside of my Kelty exterior frame backpack.
     Strength, muscle, sweat, cold, wet,  joy, speed, euphoria. These are what I experienced. I miss that. I can still feel that feeling.
     Would I go back? Could I go back?
      Let me just keep this idea in the back of my mind. Maybe I'll pull it out later to work on it or maybe I'll just keep it stashed away. It definitely is a part of me, woven into one of the many layers that have made me what I am today.

     Sometimes all it takes is a good book.