"I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a super abundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life."
~LEO TOLSTOY, "FAMILY HAPPINESS"
Growing up in Hinton, the forestry capitol of Alberta, I have always been fond of the broad and overwhelming power of untouched nature. Our days were spent navigating through dense forests in search of the perfect location to build our next fort. But since moving to flat and barren Red Deer, my romance with mother nature's solidarity has withered to nothing more than a desolated husk. But thankfully for a magical novel "Into The Wild" by Jon Krakauer, my love for the wilderness has been re-kindled.
So on a cloudy and chill October day, Phil Lindsay, Brett Schaus and myself lightly packed before departing into the wild ourselves. At around 10am we departed in Phil's car for the BC border near Banff. Each of us packed minimally: a sleeping bag, water, a pot, a dull rusty hatchet, rope, a tarp, a small amount of food, and the clothes on our backs. Other small and pointless knick knacks were brought.
After departure, we were still unsure of where we were heading exactly. Our estimation as to where we would stop was "somewhere near a river." A few hours later we decided to pull over and start hiking up the mountain broadly staring down at us. "Screw finding a river." We said. "Let's climb a mountain." And so we did. For about an hour and a half we hiked before finally finding an open area that was flat enough to declare our camp. To the south a thousand feet down, the road in which our car was parked. One hundred feet to the east, a deep and narrow canyon splitting the mountain in two. We were about a third of the way up the mountain.
We spent the first hour or more of our stay by dropping off out gear and ascending higher up the mountain. When we returned to camp, we started building a fire and a makeshift lean-to with our small tarp. Building a fire turned out to be exceedingly difficult. Our altitude was equal with that of low-passing clouds, so all of our surroundings were damp with precipitate. Our shelter was shit. A lean-to in the shape of an upside-down seven was our only protection from the unforgiving October weather. As the sun stooped down behind the mountains, we came to a haunting realization. It would be pitch black before we could work our way back down the harsh terrain of the mountain. It was too late to turn back. We were stuck there for the entire night.
The majority of our night was spent constantly feeding our pathetic fire with twigs. (our hatchet was too small and dull to encumber the task of chopping up any decent-sized log) Our supper was plain white rice followed by a couple packs of ichiban a few hours later. Late into the night we conversed and read the first few chapters of "Into The Wild" to each other. When the night was late we declared it was time for bed. This was the most dreadful night of my life. Temperatures reaching the negatives won the battle against our sleeping bags. Minutes felt like hours. I clearly remember every inching moment of the night. We had went to bed a bit after 11. Constantly I was rolling, adjusting, cradeling myself for warmth. I went in and out of sleep many many times. I realized we were all awake, so conversation engaged. Finally I asked Phil for the time. "Midnight." he replied. I was horrified. It felt like hours had passed. My mind's clock predicted 4 or 5, but it was far from right. The time was midnight. It was going to be the longest night of my life. Longer than any Christmas eve. Brett and I only got an hour or two of sleep. Phil got none at all.
The moment light broke into the sky, the three of us were ecstatic with joy. We jumped and danced with excitement by our warming visitor. Quickly afterward, We packed our gear and headed back down the mountainside. Although the three of us endured a night of discomfort, pity, fear, and intense cold, we walked down that mountain slightly changed. We had a new respect for nature, in a way that made us want to embrace it more. We desired to walk deeper into nature's soul and become one with it. Man has always desired to attain power, and this was no exception. We wanted to overcome the fierce power of mother earth. We craved to overcome nature so we could overcome ourselves. It was a moving and powerful feeling that stirred around in our blood. When the days regain their warmth, I will walk back up a mountain with my best bro's and we will conquer. Either that our the mountain will kick our asses. We'll see.
/jor⋅dan/[jawr-dn].
Growing up in Hinton, the forestry capitol of Alberta, I have always been fond of the broad and overwhelming power of untouched nature. Our days were spent navigating through dense forests in search of the perfect location to build our next fort. But since moving to flat and barren Red Deer, my romance with mother nature's solidarity has withered to nothing more than a desolated husk. But thankfully for a magical novel "Into The Wild" by Jon Krakauer, my love for the wilderness has been re-kindled.So on a cloudy and chill October day, Phil Lindsay, Brett Schaus and myself lightly packed before departing into the wild ourselves. At around 10am we departed in Phil's car for the BC border near Banff. Each of us packed minimally: a sleeping bag, water, a pot, a dull rusty hatchet, rope, a tarp, a small amount of food, and the clothes on our backs. Other small and pointless knick knacks were brought.
After departure, we were still unsure of where we were heading exactly. Our estimation as to where we would stop was "somewhere near a river." A few hours later we decided to pull over and start hiking up the mountain broadly staring down at us. "Screw finding a river." We said. "Let's climb a mountain." And so we did. For about an hour and a half we hiked before finally finding an open area that was flat enough to declare our camp. To the south a thousand feet down, the road in which our car was parked. One hundred feet to the east, a deep and narrow canyon splitting the mountain in two. We were about a third of the way up the mountain.
We spent the first hour or more of our stay by dropping off out gear and ascending higher up the mountain. When we returned to camp, we started building a fire and a makeshift lean-to with our small tarp. Building a fire turned out to be exceedingly difficult. Our altitude was equal with that of low-passing clouds, so all of our surroundings were damp with precipitate. Our shelter was shit. A lean-to in the shape of an upside-down seven was our only protection from the unforgiving October weather. As the sun stooped down behind the mountains, we came to a haunting realization. It would be pitch black before we could work our way back down the harsh terrain of the mountain. It was too late to turn back. We were stuck there for the entire night.
The majority of our night was spent constantly feeding our pathetic fire with twigs. (our hatchet was too small and dull to encumber the task of chopping up any decent-sized log) Our supper was plain white rice followed by a couple packs of ichiban a few hours later. Late into the night we conversed and read the first few chapters of "Into The Wild" to each other. When the night was late we declared it was time for bed. This was the most dreadful night of my life. Temperatures reaching the negatives won the battle against our sleeping bags. Minutes felt like hours. I clearly remember every inching moment of the night. We had went to bed a bit after 11. Constantly I was rolling, adjusting, cradeling myself for warmth. I went in and out of sleep many many times. I realized we were all awake, so conversation engaged. Finally I asked Phil for the time. "Midnight." he replied. I was horrified. It felt like hours had passed. My mind's clock predicted 4 or 5, but it was far from right. The time was midnight. It was going to be the longest night of my life. Longer than any Christmas eve. Brett and I only got an hour or two of sleep. Phil got none at all.
The moment light broke into the sky, the three of us were ecstatic with joy. We jumped and danced with excitement by our warming visitor. Quickly afterward, We packed our gear and headed back down the mountainside. Although the three of us endured a night of discomfort, pity, fear, and intense cold, we walked down that mountain slightly changed. We had a new respect for nature, in a way that made us want to embrace it more. We desired to walk deeper into nature's soul and become one with it. Man has always desired to attain power, and this was no exception. We wanted to overcome the fierce power of mother earth. We craved to overcome nature so we could overcome ourselves. It was a moving and powerful feeling that stirred around in our blood. When the days regain their warmth, I will walk back up a mountain with my best bro's and we will conquer. Either that our the mountain will kick our asses. We'll see./jor⋅dan/[jawr-dn].
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