…..the first morning, in which I enjoy the fruits of my labour.
It was a bit of a rough night in the old hammock tent. Oh yes, it was comfortable enough and I was plenty warm, thanks for asking, but as tired as I was, sleep was not forthcoming. First it was because the wind was blowing and it whistled along the tent fly drowning out the potential sounds of approaching animals. I wished so hard for it to drop out that it did and when it became so quiet that I could hear my heart beating I wished for the wind to breeze up again. But it didn’t and so I read for a bit and every time I drifted to that oblivion of sweet slumber something screeched or wailed and woke me up. So between the barred owls with their Whoo-whoo-whoo-hoo and the loons with their profoundly mournful wails and whistles and what may or may not have been a distant coyote, I was awake half the night. I counted backwards from 1000 to keep from thinking about the trail running by my head and I was grateful that I didn’t hear the pitter patt of any paws on the dry leaves.
So it wasn’t until nine in the morning that I was on deck again. Getting out of the hammock tent is kind of like being reborn. In the photo at the top of the page you can see the bright green mattress poking out the slot. That’s the only exit that doesn’t involve a pocketknife. From inside you have to separate the Velcro and get a leg through to keep it from closing back up and then birth yourself right onto your feet where you stagger about like a young foal until you get your land-legs again. All part of the adventure. That first cup of coffee sure was welcome by the time it came.
Later I struck out in the kayak to explore. The blackflies were as bad as I have ever experienced outside of Labrador. More on them later. I slathered on the Deet and used my best zen practice to keep them from ruining my day. It sure was pretty out there. Being alone I didn’t venture too far from shore but really that’s where it was prettiest. Here’s a taste of what I enjoyed:
A most pleasant way to spend a morning and to work up an appetite for lunch. I’ll continue with the afternoon in my next posting.
A Blog housekeeping note: The comment box, which hasn’t worked in over a year has finally been restored; its reappearance just as mysterious as its disappearance. I look forward to hearing from you and to suggestions for future postings. In the meantime, the “click on any photo for a larger view” function does not seem to be working today. Sigh. Life is just a journey from one glitch to the next.
© Judy Parsons 2019
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Perfect description of the exit from the hammock. I had never thought of it as such, but having spent many nights in one it is exactly what happens. I find a cure for wind noise is often a well placed bungee cord or just pull the fly back if there is no rain.
Thanks Jon, I’ll have to add a couple of bungees to my kit. Is it just me or does the province seem windier than it used to be? Back in my day…… Anyhow, yes, so much nicer to exit a tent and land on your feet than to crawl through a low door and then have to coax your joints, stiff from the cold damp ground, into moving to allow yourself to unfold and stand erect. I’ve gotten really good at placing my piss-quicks (Newfoundland term for short slip-on rubber boots) right where I need them below the opening.
Another thing we have in common. The first cup of the day is the best.
Indeed, whatever did people do before tea or coffee? It seems just plain sensible to sit with a hot cup of something and contemplate the coming day.