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.