Camping Alone and Taking Risks

It’s true freedom when you go into the mountains all alone, and spend the night by yourself far away from any road or trail. We have some mountains behind our ranch here in Southern Utah and they are pretty isolated. I was in my late teen years, when I would often venture into them on a regular basis during the summer. I dodged a few rattlesnakes. My stupidity, and hunger for fear clouded my judgment at times. Always, I’ve had my eye on the unknown, hidden things lurking in those mountains. The Blue Sky against Mother Earth, and the smell of wet sage after a rainfall still brings strong feelings.

A canyon behind our rock yard that people call Braffits Creek, and is a very deep and untouched canyon full of rigid cliffs and a deafening silence. Only the small creek is heard and an occasional breeze disturbs the Quietness.

So I wander? What would happen if you persuaded one of those city people to spend the night alone in a forest of old Juniper trees? How would they handle it?

Every time I go camping in remote areas, I get an awkward lonely feeling, especially when I take risks. What happens if I fell, or broke a leg, and starved? A multitude of thoughts pass through your imagination. What happens of you died, and no one ever found your bones? That’s a thought coming from a country boy.