Whose CrAzY Idea was this?!?!

Okay, it was mine.

I enjoyed the fishing and camping on Labor day so much that I was itching to go back here the minute we got back home - and the idea of having to wait until next year seemed too long.

Ray said that the fall colors are beautiful and worth seeing, but our schedules just never lined up for catching a free weekend to come here in October. So Thanksgiving weekend seemed like the next best bet.

This Blog is my concoction and therefore the story and observations made in here are mostly all from me, Stephanie. I really enjoy writing and sharing my thoughts in this way. This was only my 2nd time up at Westfield and if you had told me a year ago that I'm going to find myself becoming passionate about camping, I'd be surprised. But not too surprised.


With us on our camping trip came our Gnome buddies. They aren't named yet, but apparently the traveling gnomes are so popular in our culture, that there is a Gnomad Website where you can register your gnomad and post all the pictures and places where they've been.


You'll be seeing more of them for the rest of this blog, I imagine. The female gnome is one I picked up at the Erehwon store where I bought most of my winter camping gear. Ray had to point out to me that the name of that store is "nowhere" spelled backwards.

The old male gnome is one that's been keeping Ray company at work for years. They enjoyed the trip quite a bit.

First priority when we got to camp was gathering up wood for the fire...as much as possible. Ray chopped up these bigger logs as I went around for the kindling twigs and medium sized wood. My first realization as I started walking around was how much easier it was to find wood - there were dead limbs and trees everywhere! Oh right, its winter. And it was also neat to head down an area and see trees on the ground which hadn't been there last time we were here. One tree had fallen and appeared to have taken down two smaller trees with it, now all three laying neatly on the woods floor with loads of different sized limbs now for me to snatch up and pile next to the fire pit. Dandy!






Actually, the first line of business when we got to the site was for Ray to rake up all the leaves and clear the areas that we'll be using, and for me to dig a hole back in the are where we place over the commode.


Ray is still using the same lantern he first got as a kid when he camped with the boyscouts. And I have no idea what it is he's doing to it in this picture to make it work, but its a real nice thing to have at night because of all the light it gives out.



And this is me already feeling so excited and happy to out camping and away from the norms of Chicago life for a while. It's really great.
















We start our first fire and I make sure to take a picture of our gnome buddies.
















It's probably also important to point out that initially I set out to experience camping solely because of its importance in Ray's life and his past. I had no real expectations that I'd find myself drawn to it so much for my own enjoyment. And while I take so many pictures of Ray doing lots of work around the site, truth is that I'm watching and learning each time as we go with the intense desire to master these things so that I could be just as competent myself. And Ray will attest that I have already learned and mastered much.

If I hadn't enjoyed it so much, I would have at least appreciated its value in Ray's life and that was something I wanted to gain as he's grown more important to me. I don't know think I'll ever want to learn to cook like he does or see myself building log cabins. But there are parts to this way of life that resonate strongly with me. I didn't expect as much. I had thought I had experienced already so much, very few things keep me nearly as inspired or mystified anymore. So this has become a very nice surprise.

Westfield Wisconsin

"Where the Pioneer Spirit Lives On" is their hometown motto. When we drove around town, I did see a Lutheran church which boasted it had been serving the area since 1857. I couldn't imagine.

Below are more pictures of our camp site on the first morning. Instead of waking up to the sounds of birds, squirrels and wild turkeys - this time each morning we heard echoing sounds of gun fire by the deer hunters. When we drove around town, every so often there's be an empty pickup truck parked along the side of the road with an ATV hooked up to its rig. Ray said the ATV's are left at the truck for the guy to return and use for going out and bringing back the deer he just killed. In the course of the whole weekend, I probably saw a dozen or more trucks parked off to the side and near large acres of woods.

We heard a lot more rifle fire the second morning we were there - and sometimes the rifle fire would be followed by the sounds of dogs barking. Somehow, though, it never felt violent to me. It seemed entirely natural. The rifle shots never struck me as close to camp either, though Ray insisted I wear my orange vest when I left the tent each morning.


It's hard to assess the direction of the sounds I suppose. Next to our camp is about 80 more acres of wild nature that belongs to a neighbor who posts No Trespassing signs everywhere. In fact, signs like "Absolutely No Trespassing" and "Positively No Trespassing" can also be spotted along miles of the open road where acres of woods are standing undeveloped and seem otherwise left untouched by humans. Seeing those signs always strike me as odd...and even somewhat unnatural. I suppose someone just purchases acres and acres of land and then decides to leave it be, except for those times they wish to come out and try hunting various animals on their land.






But how "land" on this earth ever becomes "owned" by one person has never made sense to me. Yet on the other hand, the fact that the camp site where we are staying is "owned" by a private owner, does enhance its sense of "privacy" and never do I worry if someone else is going to come hauling through the woods and start using our site. Though when we're not there, who knows what happens.

There's something about stepping out from where you just slept protected and warm, and the first thing you are hit with is the warmth of the sun above, the sounds of the earth under your feet and the site of trees and everything you had from the night before now brightly showing. Waking up outside is probably one of my favorite things ever. Well, waking up in the woods, that is. Looking at the fire pit the next morning is fascinating to me as well...what was the center of my evening, the greatest source of my light and the greatest warmth of my night is now just a pile of gray. musty, and dirty ash seeming to have very little status compared to its surroundings in the daylight.

Ray surprised me when he snapped this picture first thing in the morning. I was still getting myself oriented to the morning and not yet started to brush my hair or put on any makeup...I had set up a little vanity mirror hanging off a low branch of a nearby tree to use to comb my hair and try to manage some semblance of nice appearance. I wondered how it was that women would put on makeup or care much about their looks in a lifestyle like this. Some women have that natural beauty I suppose. I ain't one of them :-P

Being the first to get up, my thoughts were immediately on getting back to that fire and starting a hot water pot. I had my favorite oatmeal and tea and Ray had his standard coffee and pipe, with some leftover deviled eggs from Thanksgiving.

Ray built this metal tripod at his shop this past week, which we used to hang the water pot with to keep hot water going at all times. We also had two propane stoves and an extra small grill to use if needed.


And if all else failed, we could always just get in Ray's truck and drive back into town for an Egg McMuffin...which is actually one of our favorite treats to have at some point during the trip.


Here is our "kitchen". Or, I should say, here is Ray's kitchen.


















And here is our backyard.

Bank Fishing on Fox River

First I want everyone to take note of how safety-conscience Ray insisted on being with the wearing of the bright safety-vest. I had one on as well.

With the wind gusts picking up, Ray suggested we not get out on the boat but try bank fishing instead. Sounded dandy to me. We headed to the Fox River in a town called Montello, and the dock where we parked our truck had three or four other trucks also parked there...one with a dog cage sitting in the back of the truck bed.

It took me a while to get back into the grove of casting and reeling and all that. But in the last 20 minutes or so, before we stopped for lunch and then took a long drive before going back to town, I had begun to get back into the groove of fishing. There's a whole kinetic flow to it that I had remembered from last time - and I was at first surprised to find that I couldn't get right back into it when we started. We walked along one side of the river, under tree banks that shaded us from the wind and at the very spot where Ray had one of his biggest catches once. Then we crossed onto the other side of this bridge...


...and got along the the side of the river bank most sunlit. I think that helped a lot. I walked a few yards, would cast in to the River for a while and then walk a little further. My final spot I sat on the highest rock among a bank of huge rocks where the river crested and finally got into a real flow with my casting. It started to become second nature and this allowed my mind to wonder more freely into random nothingness.

The Gnomes enjoyed the River too. Here are some more pretty pictures of the site...

The Local Atmosphere

We ended the afternoon with a stop at one of the local pubs, The Happy Tap. At first we were the only folks in there, with the very inquisitive barkeeper Karen asking us about where we come from and what we're doing there in Westfield. But soon a few locals entered and all chatted about how everyone's saying the deer are really hiding this season.

(My sweet Woodsman-at-heart, looking so handsome and rugged.)


I was just enjoying the opportunity to use an indoor commode for once!

Plus I really liked the atmosphere.

I will have to say as we are sitting at the bar enjoying the rest and a the drinks, it was most surrealistic to me when Karen asked us the inevitable question of, "So what do you two do down there in Chicago?" and we had to answer, "We're both in theater."

..."Is that right?" Karen responded in her back-woods twang and cigarette-raspy voice.

We watched a little football on their HD widescreen t.v. and then headed out to the camp for one last night. I didn't take anymore pictures of the camp, but it was actually the most beautiful night I've experienced up there yet. I'm getting better at creating a good roaring and sustainable fire, and Ray cooked some amazing burgers that night. The overcast clouds kept the temperature in the 30's for a bit and there's really nothing like that sense of peace and quietness that happens around a crackling fire in the late evening.

We took turns keeping the fire going while underneath it a very strong pad of hot coal was going strong. Just learning about the different kinds of fire is amazing to me. But more so because I find myself thinking about the ancestors all coming before me who had to have had a very intimate and instinctive sense about fire, about fuel, and about nature, about survival, just in order to keep surviving themselves and for future generations to come. And they succeeded. Living by fire. Surviving by fire. So many failed and so many didn't. And this fire before me that I'm learning to work with - that I'm learning to feed and control and manipulate - is so very close to the essence of life's beginning necessities.

Amazing to me. And how foreign as well. But its becoming less foreign to me each time we go up there.

My respect for my ancestors has grown by leaps and bounds. My humbleness towards the nature of life has deepened. Several years ago I began to grow so restless with my surroundings and with my life. I wouldn't have called it restlessness at first - I was instead constantly asking the question "is this all there is?" I was getting depressed. Suddenly the experience of shopping at a Mall had an underbelly of shallowness that I couldn't escape. I couldn't keep my attention on any t.v. program long enough to sustain interest because the gnawing awareness of "none of this is real" wouldn't leave my head. And in general, all things I used to think were so important to me were all suspect as I started to ask over and over again, "what really matters?"

The other important context to this crisis/restlessness that I started to have was, of course, that my job at that time involved working with adolescents whose lives were already more battled-scarred, exploited, and trashed with degrees of abuse than most people will ever know in their lifetimes, and by the very people who brought them into this world in the first place. And I was there, among the other psychologists, trying to help put any kind of pieces together so they could function again in society. Right now, as I write this, chances are that 60-80% of the teens I worked with back five years ago are probably occupying a jail cell or actively involved in very high-risk behavior that will eventually get them in prison.

Oh well.

It's not for me to decide or control such things.

I guess it's just another lesson in humbleness.

But I want to keep learning about those qualities in our humanity and sense of purpose that made it possible in the first place to go from living by fire, to living in a high rise condo along lake shore drive...and at least then be making the conscience choice about the direction I want my life to go, instead of just going unawares.

Keeping Warm At Night

Our Gnome buddies demonstrating how we survived the 20 degree cold at night - relying heavily on these Heat Warmer pads that heat up to 130 degrees and last for over 7 hours. We had three sleeping bags and four layers of blankets over us as well. By the last night we had stayed warm enough to even sweat a little.

Ready to go home

We've packed up the truck and Ray is ready for hitting post-holiday traffic on our way home. It actually wasn't bad traffic at all and we even had time to stop off at Cabela's in Hoffman Estates for over an hours' worth of browsing. We got home before 6pm and reheated all of the Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner. Yum!








A couple of days without a hot shower did wonders to our hair, as Ray happily demonstrates.


This is also the look on Ray's face after I asked him the question (with my cheesy, playful smile) "So we're coming back here next Thanksgiving?"

(pause)

Ray gives me this look trying to assess if he really needs to answer this question outloud.

(pause)

"Uh. No."

(LOL)