Necessary Escape

I recently came back from four days of an annual campout with fellow retired California state park women. Last year was the first time we had to cancel due to Covid. We are all older now and appreciate how fragile life is. I am 61. One of our members is battling Stage 4 breast cancer and yet she came. A fellow member drove her. She smiles and laughs despite the hell she is going through. People have occasionally missed for a variety of reasons over the years from wildfires, health problems, ailing spouses and parents, loss of pets. But we make our pilgrimage every year if we can. First it was to Yosemite and now a forest service campground in the high Sierra. 

For up to a week we are off the grid. There are an average of 30 of us that show up in a given year. I feel proud to be a part of this group of resourceful, strong women. I apologize for being a bit vague about specifics in this posting, but we all agreed to keep the happenings to ourselves. There are no facebook postings after.

I had to retire early in 2010 from the devastating effects of my immune system being run over by Lyme disease. In the years since, I have become obsessed with looking at my cell phone. I jam in news stories, Words with Friends, TicTok videos, texts and online searches between art projects, walks, aqua aerobics, too much TV and the on-and-off writing of a memoir about my twenty years as a female park ranger and supervising ranger. Once I am in the campground, I quickly forget about carrying my phone around everywhere like it’s a baby.

There are daily hikes, field trips and kayaking. There is always a small pack of camp dogs. I brought my dog Cosmo this year. We prepare fabulous meals together from lobster and tri tip to soup and salad. With homegrown vegetables. And of course desserts. There is lots of wine poured. We play games like charades and a version of Pictionary with teams and a dry erase board to draw on. We teach each other skills we have learned. One of the women taught the group line dancing. I taught a mosaic class this year. There are campfire programs with singing and skits and lots of laughing. There is always lots of laughing. Sometimes other campers walk by and ask what is going on. They seem curious and maybe a bit envious of the fun we are having.

People sleep in a variety of set-ups from a cabover camper, to small rv’s and trailers, to tents. At night I jam myself and Cosmo into my tiny Subaru Crosstrek. I used to tent camp but there are active bears in the campground. I am no longer as brave as the other tent campers. Twice this year I watch members of our group chase them off. My wildlife-related work experience was more with relocating rattlesnakes. My dream of getting a lightweight tear drop trailer gets reactivated as my feet keep hitting the inside of the rear hatch door.

It feels so freeing to be with these amazing women. We share stories. Some of these women were among the first female park rangers. We have deep conversations. I compartmentalize my anxiety about climate change, habitat loss, Covid, what kind of world is being left for my children and grandchildren, and just revel in the moments. A bit of a germaphobe after contracting Lyme disease and amidst Covid threats, my feet are caked in dirt. I am in desperate need of a good shower. I make the long car journey back home. Shortly after arriving, and petting my cat Nelson and greeting my husband Chuck, I see that the Dixie fire in the northern part of California has exploded even more. Afghanistan has rapidly fallen to the Taliban. I hear an anguished woman in a radio interview lamenting the loss of freedom this will mean for women and girls. She had lived under the Taliban before. She sounds terrified and deeply sad. I see an online video clip of a bear cub frantically running down a highway. It is covered with fire retardant. It is probably searching for it’s mother. She is probably dead. My heart hurts again. I feel like fleeing back to the woods.

Instead I start looking into getting a teardrop trailer. I make inquiries into increasing our HELOC to finance it. I start watching Youtube videos. In one I view a happy couple in their Subaru taking a teardrop trailer on a maiden voyage. I read about towing capacity, trailer hitches, electric trailer brakes, pros and cons of teardrop brands. Chuck tells me I am obsessing on it. I deny it. He is right. I dream about mini escapes in nature, as well as a self-contained way to safely visit family and friends.

We are all on a journey trying to figure out how to survive in this chaotic often frightening new world. I decided to chronicle my journey starting right now, in the thick of things.