September 10-13, 2021
I finally have my first solo camping trip under my belt. And when I say “solo”, I mean “SOLO”.
I elected to take my first solo camping trip the weekend after Labor Day specifically so the campground wouldn’t be crowded. I decided on the Redondo Campground in the Jemez Mountains once more as there was a sense of familiarity as that’s where Alan and I camped in May. Plus, it’s close, so if anything did go wrong, I could get home in a hurry.
I spent the week before I left packing up, checking and double checking my checklist of things to remember to pack and take. On Labor Day, I went to Alan’s and borrowed his Gator Box rotomolded cooler, some propane for the camp stove I got, and a hatchet and saw.
The remainder of the week was spent dragging gear out of my spare closet and going through everything, getting rechargeable stuff charged up, then Thursday evening, I started packing up the car.
Friday morning, I ran to the grocery store for a few more last minute things, packed the ice in the coolers and loaded Ash up for our departure.
Redondo Campground: The Return
We arrived at the Redondo Campground at about 12:00 noon. After loving the spot Alan and I were in when we were up in May, I thought I’d take my chances and see if that spot was available. It was, as was every other spot on that loop. There was one site where a car was packing up and leaving just as I was arriving, but after that, I was alone.
I backed into the spot and unloaded my car, scoping out the perfect spot for my tent. I spent about 30 minutes setting up the tent, inflating the air mattress and pitching gear into the tent, then went about the business of setting up the camp kitchen.
It wasn’t long before I found myself roughhousing with Ash and got myself hurt. he scratched me pretty good, breaking skin and necessitating the use of a couple of bandages from my first aid kit.
Once the food was unloaded, I made a roast beef sandwich for lunch and began setting up the 12’x12′ Ozark Trail shelter I’d picked up from WalMart. I lashed two corners to trees just beyond the picnic table then tried to set up the poles to create a shelter over the kitchen, but the geometry was all wonky and I couldn’t get the tarp tight. There was considerable droop that I alone could not tighten up. If I had a second set of hands, I think I could have gotten it, but I just lived with the sag. I was still able to walk under it with no problem.
I then set up my hammock using the Foxelli hammock straps I’d gotten before our trip to Red River in June (I never set up the hammock on that trip as it was raining the whole time.) They’re rated for 1,000 pounds EACH (so 2,000 for the set) so they held up just fine.
Once the hammock was up, all that was left to do was to relax.
I swung in the hammock, I started a fire, I cooked a dinner of bratwurst with sautéed onions with potato salad, poured myself a drink and continued reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed (I’d started it on that first camping trip and hadn’t done much reading since.)
Meanwhile, Ash was off his leash the entire time. There was a blue bird that I now believe was a Steller’s Jay that was hanging around the site tormenting him all weekend, swooping down from a nearby tree to get Ash’s attention, then lofting back up when Ash approached. There appeared to be no other reason for the bird to behave this way. He didn’t seem to be feeding or anything, and even if he was, he could have just as easily gone to another spot to eat. No, I’m convinced he was just there to torment my dog.
I decided to call it a night at around 9:30. I led Ash into the tent and onto the air mattress only to find that about 25% of the air had been lost out of it since I’d inflated it at around 12:30. At my previous camping trip in Red River, the mattress had lost some air after inflating but it held the remaining air the rest of the trip out there.
That was not the case this time. I woke up in the middle of the night on the ground. The mattress had lost pretty much all of its air. I hung with it for the remainder of the night, finally hoisting myself off the ground at about 4:00 am.
Saturday
I sat in the dark, reading with my book light until the sun came up. When it was light enough to see, I brewed a pot of coffee and made a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and pancakes. I reserved the bacon grease for the dinner I was planning on making that night, cleaned up and got ready for my Saturday hike.
East River Slot Canyon
I’d wanted to hike the East River Slot Canyon during my last camping trip at the Redondo Campground but there was no legal parking near the trailhead. AllTrails now shows the approach to the canyon via the East Fork Trail.
AllTrails rates this as an easy 4.8 mile out and back trail with a 436 foot elevation gain.
We got to the trailhead and found no other cars in the lot. Ash and I set off and when we were about a quarter mile onto the trail, I took the leash off of Ash.
We trod along what really amounted to a forest road, replete with tire tracks that had been embedded in since-dried mud.
There was a large burn scar that we hiked through, many burned down trees and lots of new growth around.
As we continued on, I came across a very interesting plant.
It was very alien-like to me. It was reminiscent of the xenomorph eggs from Alien or the pods from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. As we continued on, I faced a huge field of these plants, the regimented rank and file stretching back for dozens of yards.
The plans would later be identified as verbascum thaspus, or greater mullein.
We continued on down the East Fork Trail until branching off about a mile in. The trail switches back before suddenly dropping 300 feet in elevation over the next half mile. The access trail is littered with fallen trees, a couple of which I really had to climb over (as opposed to just stepping over.)
Eventually the trail encounters a series of wooden staircases built into the side of the canyon. They’re mostly well maintained with only a couple of sketchy spots, missing boards and larger than normal last steps.
Eventually we made it down into the bottom of the canyon where the East Fork of the Jemez River flows. It was time to test the waterproof claims of my hiking boots.
We immediately made a river crossing, the water flowing around my feet as I made my way across. I did not feel any water in my boots at all. That was until I got to a spot deeper than the top of my boot. The chilly water suddenly flowed into my boot drenching my foot and my sock.
Ash, of course, was in love with the water, making a beeline to it and splashing through at every opportunity.
We made it across the river and started west on the north bank before coming to another crossing. We crossed again and continued on the south bank. This continued on the same way for some time, the trail criss-crossing the river, or providing alternate routes without crossing. I mentally compared it to a “Choose You Own Adventure” book, being presented with options every so often with rewards or penalties depending on which decision I made.
Eventually I plunged my other shoe below the waters level so I made the rest of the hike with two wet feet.
After a bit, we came across a group of about eight people hiking the opposite direction, so downriver, but they were hiking in the river, not using the banks. I noticed they all we wearing sandals and carrying shoes with them. It made me want to look into good hiking sandals, which I’d never in a million years thought I would ever consider buying for myself, but seeing my propensity for wearing flip flops all summer last year, I think I’ll be rethinking that decision.
After about two miles of total hike, I was about ready to call it. I knew I was still going to have to climb up the canyon wall that I had just descended and I didn’t want to get too out of energy so I turned Ash around, found a shady spot for a water and snack break and to pick up some trash left behind by some inconsiderate hikers. Course, I can’t expect much more from anyone that drinks Mike’s Hard Seltzers while out on the trails…
Yeah, I said it.
Anyway.
After sufficiently hydrating, Ash and I continued on, finally making it to the stairs back up to the East Fork Trail.
Unsurprisingly, it killed me, but I will say that with my new UFlex Compression Knee Sleeve, it didn’t kill my knee nearly as much as it should have. I need to get another one, you know, seeing as how I have two knees.
We made it back up to the top and the return to the trailhead was a smooth slightly downhill cruise for the last mile.
Return to Camp
We got back to camp at noon. I made myself a sandwich and took a nice, long nap in my hammock.
I woke up feeling refreshed. I pulled out my book and continued reading, finally finishing Wild in the same exact spot I’d started it some three and a half months earlier.
At about 1:30, a couple of women pulled into the site two spots down from me. They made camp rather quickly; evidently they’d done this before. About two and a half hours later, another spot across from me became occupied by a group of about 10. I could tell they were going to be rambunctious; they used an American flag as a wall on their EZ Up, they set up a target across the road from their site (so on my side, but up the road a bit) and shot a bow and arrow at it for a couple of hours. Meanwhile, a child of about 8 or 10 was firing a pellet gun of some sorts across the road at a can or something, whooping and hollering every time they hit it. They partied hard, and sure enough, well into the night.
I made myself dinner, a wonderful green chile stew. I browned the pork in the bacon grease left over from that morning’s breakfast, then added half a quart of chicken broth, diced potatoes, a healthy heaping of green chile and half a can of fire roasted tomatoes. I left it simmering on my new Coleman camp stove for about an hour before the potatoes were nice and soft.
As the stew simmered, I re-inflated the air mattress in the tent. My hope was that re-inflating it later in the day would leave more air in it through the night.
Once the mattress was firm, I returned to dinner. I took the stew off the stove and portioned it out.
It turned out delicious, and once again, I question whether that’s because it was actually better than I usually make it, or if it was because of the atmosphere in which I ate it.
Once done, I cleaned up, poured myself a drink, then had several more, then went to bed once more at about 9:30. At midnight, I was woken up by the party going on across the road from me. I wasn’t too happy about that, though I was able to get back to sleep pretty quickly.
Sunday
I woke up Sunday morning at 4:00 again. I was tempted to parade around those yahoos across the road blasting Reveille but decided against it. Instead I once more waited until sunrise and made some coffee and some breakfast (scrambled eggs with green chile stew on the side) and just kind of tooled around.
Early in the morning, the visitors that arrived Saturday night promptly packed up and left, leaving me once more largely alone for the day on Sunday.
I realized I was pretty much out of ice so Ash and I left and went to Amanda’s Jemez Mountain Country Store, which is right at the corner of Highway 4 and State Road 126, which leads to Fenton Lake and then on into Cuba.
While I was there I picked up one of those McCormick’s pack of salt and pepper in carboard tubes, as I had forgotten salt and pepper (along with cooking oil. And tortillas.)
When we got back to the campsite, I decided we’d take a little stroll around the grounds and see what there is to see. I found a small… well, “stage” is overstating it. It’s really little more than a large backdrop in front of which are two small rows of bleacher style seats. It looked like it’d been a while since it’d been used, but with the COVID pandemic, that’s understandable. Even so though, what would it be used for?
We walked around a bit more before heading back to the campsite where I continued to read and listed to Led Zeppelin on my phone.
I was taken by the astounding silence around me. With no other campers in sight or even within earshot, the silence was deafening and it certainly amplified the solitude I’d been feeling. I felt so alone, not just in my life but in the world. The only sounds were the birds and the trees rustling in the wind.
As night began closing in, I lit a fire and started dinner, a New York strip steak with some pan-fried potatoes.
I cut a sizeable portion off the steak for Ash and plated the rest for myself. We sat at the picnic table to feast on on our meals and we were happy.
For the last time on this trip, I poured myself a drink and started a long night of contemplation.
Once more, I went to bed at 9:30.
Departure
I surprisingly woke up at 4:00 Monday morning and as the two previous mornings, read in the dark until there was enough light to start coffee and breakfast.
I ate, cleaned up and began breaking camp: deflating the rest of the air in the air mattress, breaking down the tent, packing up the food and miscellaneous tools strewn throughout the campsite, and finally breaking down the Ozark Trail shelter I failingly set up over the camp kitchen.
I took my time while doing this, finally leaving camp at about 10:30 or so.
Back to Reality
I got home at about noon, made myself a quick lunch, unloaded the bare necessities and took a lengthy nap. When I woke up, I ordered a pizza, continued unloading the car, and was generally pretty lazy otherwise.
Tuesday, I spent the day unloading the last of the stuff from the car, picking up a few groceries, washing my car, getting a hair cut, doing laundry… it was a pretty basic get caught up on chores type of day.
I finished the day with my standard Sunday evening wind-down ritual: hot shower, washing and deep conditioning my hair, lotion, brewing a cup of tea and sitting with a nice, quiet television until bed.
Conclusion
By the end of it all, I call it a very successful camping trip. I didn’t experience any emergencies, I was able to get fires lit each day, I had plenty of food and water, and I was adequately sheltered and safe.
I learned that I am in fact rather self-sufficient in most regards when it comes to the outdoors. I didn’t rely on anyone’s help to have a successful camping trip, except for the couple of things I borrowed from Alan.
I did discover that solitude and loneliness are not the end of the world. Many people say they crave the quiet. I am not one of those people. I crave companionship, which has been increasingly difficult to come by these days. But I survived four days without it, and in my time since returning, I have not had nearly the anxiety I usually have about it. I still do have some people that I converse with regularly via Facebook messenger, SnapChat or text messaging, but do not interact with anyone face-to-face on any kind of regular basis. But I’m coming to grips with that. All that means to me is that there’s no one to slow me down from doing the things that I want to do. Would I like someone to be with me when I do these amazing things, and have these awesome experiences? Naturally. Will I let the lack of companionship stop me from experiencing them? Absolutely not.
I know this post is SUPER late (over TWO MONTHS since the trip) but a lot has happened since the camping trip, as outlined in my previous post.
As always, pictures from my camping trip and the hike are on my Photo Diary page.
I still have TWO hikes, a concert, and our trip to Durango to post about, so expect several posts coming very quickly!
Until then, thanks for stopping by. I appreciate you!
-Phil