I lack for little.
Happily married, well-fed and clothed, I sleep in a comfortable bed, turn up the thermostat when I’m cold and step into the shower when I’m dirty.
If I crave ice cream, beer or fried pork rinds, the grocery’s just down the street. An all-night convenience store a few blocks away conveniently satisfies my hunger for pizza and doughnuts at any hour of the night.
For the past week, however, I’ve been unable to satisfy those cravings. On an extended backpacking trip through the Bob Marshall Wilderness, I’m carrying everything I need on my back.
And everything I need certainly doesn’t include everything I want.
An ice cold bottle of beer would sure taste good about now. So would a bowl of Cherry Garcia ice cream.
Wilderness travel reduces life to the bare essentials. Food becomes little more than fuel, a tiny tent offers shelter from the elements and comfort comes on a long stretch of downhill trail.
A dog-eared paperback takes the place of cable television and instant oatmeal replaces bacon and eggs.
Cold? Throw another log on the fire.
Wet? Get used to it.
Come the end of the trip, there will be cravings to satisfy for sure. Fresh fruit, potato chips, milk shakes, meat.
Years ago I worked for an outfitter in Cooke City. Following weeks living in a tent high in the Beartooth Mountains I would head to the general store to indulge myself as soon as I got back to town.
However, it’s been years now that I’ve spent much time in the wilderness, years that I’ve been able to satisfy even the simplest craving, peppermint patties and bottled water seemingly always at my fingertips.
This time I want to do things differently. After a week of living simply, I hope to be able to show a bit of restraint, continue doing without some of those things I’ve found I don’t actually need.
Like an Indian mystic returning from a vision quest, I would like to come back wiser, kinder, more patient.
But who am I kidding. About now, I’d die for a cheeseburger, sell my soul for a popsicle and trade this backpack and everything in it for one night in a comfortable bed.
For sure, instant oatmeal, jerky and powdered drink mix won’t be on my menu anytime soon. Certainly not once I return to the land of indulgence, where cheese nachos and a Dove bar are seldom more than a few blocks away.
Parker Heinlein is at pman@mtintouch.net