Dec 302009
I made it to Florida but not before spending the weekend at the Tracker School during one of the strongest blizzards to have impacted the east coast in several years. The Tracker class was held at the Joseph A. Citta Boy Scout reservation in New Jersey and started on a Friday. By Saturday morning there was at least a foot of snow on the ground and by Saturday evening two feet of snow and it was still coming down at a steady clip. So much snow covered the ground that by late Saturday evening I could not even find my tent as it had turned in to a barely recognizable mound of snow. When I did find my tent it had collapsed under the weight of the snow.
This Tracker class (part of a series) was focused on gathering and preserving wild edibles and medicinals. However because of the blizzard the planned agenda was out the window – it’s kind of difficult to find and gather, say, some wintergreen when the ground is covered with two feet of snow (although not impossible as we found out).
Instead of going with the original class addenda Tom Brown decided to reschedule the class and instead used the time for “spontaneous teaching.” Topics included extracting nutrients from plants in cold weather and the healing power of awareness. Excellent class. Probably the most profound lesson for this class was the art of turning hope into belief. This notion of turning hope into belief when simply stated may sound a bit flaky but when used within the context of fire making, hunting, or finding plants buried in over two feet of snow it becomes downright practical skill.
The class parted early on Sunday to allow everyone plenty of travel time. From New Jersey I was southward bound to Florida to visit with my old man, spend some time in southeastern wilderness; maybe even hit up a beach or two. There was one problem though as I departed New Jersey that day…I only had one hundred bucks to get from New Jersey to Florida (actually I only had $80 but Shaun – a friend and fellow Tracker student – spotted me $20 which was greatly appreciated). Looking on the map and doing the math I saw no way to make it on$100. Just the tolls in New Jersey and Washington DC are easily over $20. I decided to try turning hope into belief and wouldn’t you know it I pulled into Sarasota the next day with a quarter tank of gas and 30 cents in my pocket. Perhaps not the kind of revelation that’s going to send physicists back to the drawing board to consider the effects of belief on fuel efficiency but it was for me a personal testament to the power of belief. Maybe not the most illuminating testament and I’m not claiming that in this case the power of belief altered physical reality – even though I am cretin belief does have the power to do so – rather the lesson for me was one of state of mind. Once I believed that I’d be able to make it my mind was at ease. I was excited and positive about my trip, I had a calm and engaged mind and having a calm, engaged, and positive mindset is an asset in any kind of dilemma – survival situation or otherwise.
Once out of the traffic jam caused by the blizzard and accidents, somewhere around Virginia, I decided to try and save some gas by driving between 55 and 60 mph. Defiantly took me a bit of getting used to but once I got customized to the mellow 55 mph engine hum I found the driving to be much easier, pleasant really. I just set the cruise control, got in the right lane and let everyone else go around me.
It’s interesting to notice on the highway how people tend to group themselves into flocks of traffic, stressed out uncooperative forced flocks of circumstance. Late into the evening occasional flocks of traffic separated by miles of empty highway bliss – a bliss waiting for anyone willing and able to slow down and partake of it. And inside of these flocks of petro powered iron horses everyone’s trying to break away but just gets stuck in some crowded rut all the same, speeding off to some destination unknown.
Occasionally another driver – perhaps sensing and driven mad by my pleasant slow independent style, maybe they’d gotten a bit lonly on a long drive and needed to be noticed, or they we’re just pissed off at being blocked from passing on the right side as is some folks style – they would pull up behind me and try to fuck up my game by tailing me for a few seconds hoping for some kind of response but ails they could never hang on, I was moving way too slow. Their impatience would always get the best of them and they would have to move on and find some other more receptive highway victim down the line.
Around 4am somewhere south of Savanna, GA I succumbed to the reality that I was too tired to drive straight through. I decided to check into a scout hotel like I always do when traveling alone. This one was in a pine forest, my “room” was 25 yards down a deer trail where I piled some pine needles, threw my sleeping bag down and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up it was warm and smelled like pine. The day before I had woken up in a blizzard but now the sun was shining, it was beautiful. The storm was over. I had survived with no regrets.
