The Adventure Pt. 1 - Fear
To cover that entire trip in one blog post would be insane. It would be kind of unfair, really. I can admit, however, I want to write about it. If there's one thing I want to point out above all else is that anyone can do an adventure like this. You have it in you. Find the means, find your courage, and get out there.
There were three really important things that I learned along the way.
1. Fear and pride are the criminals of failed success.
2. We're responsible for our own accountability.
3. Aufhebung - a German word for wa/onderers.
Not what you expected? Maybe exactly what you expected? It sure wasn't where I thought my vacation was going. If only I had the wit to turn this into a gimmick off of Eat, Pray, Love. It's not about that though. Sure, there was a fair amount of self-discovery but, no more than would be expected after driving 7,450 miles.
During this trip, I spent more time with myself than I probably ever had. I'm not one for being alone and generally find ways to surround myself with people often enough to not feel lonely. I just like having other blood around. I got to see a number of remarkable things from the driver's seat of my car and reacted to them individually. The weird part was that I started reacting to things as verbally, emotionally, physically or spiritually as I wanted because I was alone. Appropriate-time-to-pick-your-nose alone. In some cases, miles from the last person I had seen. Remarkably enough, the people that I did involve in the trip were all people that I'd known long enough to not gauge my "individuality". I just kept doing what I was doing when I was alone because they made me feel comfortable and let me be myself. How does this relate to the kitchen?
When I'm comfortable with myself, I can be a better leader that gives clear and concise direction.
Being a stronger, more individual leader means spending time with Numero Uno: You. If you're confident and comfortable as an individual, you're going to slowly learn how to maintain your individuality with an audience. Which wraps us around to the first part. Fear and pride are the criminals of failed success.
As humans, I think most of us can admit that the biggest reason we don't do something is 100% fear. We blame laziness, lack of time, inability to fund... etc. but the reality is that we're just scared. If we're not scared, sometimes we take it too far and we're overzealous. We're simply too confident to be successful. Like anything in life, we're at a crossing of thought that requires balance. How do we walk confidently into the fire without overdoing it?
You're not to blame for your fear. That should be mentioned. We live in a world saturated by the stink of fear: identity theft, terrorism, nuclear weaponry, fluoride, warring factions, pirates, hooligans... the list goes on. Lock your doors, kids, this is a pretty scary freak show. We're all rightfully trained to be fearful. Are we taking it too far though? It was concerning to me the amount of people that believed I was in danger because I was traveling alone as a female over a long distance. I will never bring a daughter into this world that lives with the fear that she can't go across the country all by her self. I might make her go. I'll probably pay for it. It felt a little discriminating and definitely belittling. More than anyone, I pitied the women that felt this way. They honestly believed that they themselves were not capable of the feat and the truth is... they are definitely capable.
My plan going into this trip was to camp. I had found a few sources to locate free campsites and I fully intended to locate camp during the afternoon using freecampsites.net and then drive the last few hours to get to it. As the trip went on I was smart to find wireless connections at fast food places to make the search smoother, but the first day I had very little service and even less sunlight. I was really tired enough that anywhere would have been fine; it was my first day and I had driven 600 miles.
Described on freecampsites.net as "primitive - bring your own wasp killer".
I pulled off state route 29 in the farthest northwest corner of Missouri into a horizon of corn fields. The pavement abruptly ended and I found myself on a 3 mile one-lane, white gravel road. I'm honestly at this point already feeling the fear and decide cover it up by blasting down the gravel kicking up as much dust as I can to make myself laugh. There was so clearly not one person anywhere at all. I pulled up to the alleged campsite next to a trailer park of a few RV's. Each of the tiny windows glowed as dusk dimmed the world around me and I got my first glance at this old Lewis & Clark riverside lean. The glowing windows should have given me comfort but my mind decided to use them as fuel for the fire of fear.
There once was a parking lot, a latrine, and an informative sign covered in plexiglass about the history of the area. It's not to say they were gone; they were just different. The paved parking lot was cracked into thousands of shattered pieces each crevasse now the home for tall sweeping grasses. The sign was damaged, clearly by ignorant and careless humans, the information inside slowly deteriorating and fading. A soft moss grew inside the wood frame of the sign and slowly threatened to permanently cover the information it once so proudly displayed. The latrine had weeds embedded into the door forever sealing it's rotting fecal contents behind Mother Nature herself. Despite of all this, I was happy to be here. Sure, I wasn't sure who the hell was living in the trailer park and I had to pee in the bushes but, it was sort of exciting.
I schlepped through the grasses up and over a hill to the river and found a fantastic landing overlooking a cove alive with fish. It was sort of awkwardly close to the trail back to the parking lot so I walked against the current to get further away. As I approached another perfect landing for a tent, I heard the crescendo of humming around my feet. The fucking wasps. I stopped and slowly placed one foot behind the other until I found myself back to my first spot. I went the opposite way up the river only to discover the same noise emanating from the ground. The first landing was clearly the most intelligent option though it was placed exactly at the foot of the parking lot path. I didn't really expect company at this point anyway.
I went back to my car and put together an overnight backpack, grabbed my tent and sleeping bag and quickly organized camp. The sun was pretty much gone as I crawled into my tent and sat down. It was in this moment that I realized this was the first time I had camped completely alone in the woods. I checked my service signal as well as the battery life and I quickly googled "Missouri wildlife". My brain had entered panic mode.
Though I may taut my resiliency to fear to you in conversation out at the bar, let me be 100% clear that I have never been so fucking scared in my life. I was convinced that someone was going to either murder me from the trailer park or a rabid animal was going to find me and make me dinner. I prayed. I sang to myself. I smoked about 6 cigarettes and pounded 2 beers for full effect. Eventually, I laid down and I somehow finally managed to drift off.
As if I was not already completely saturated in fear, terror and loneliness which had followed me into the cranial make-up of my dreams, I was awoken by the sound of some thing smashing into my tent followed by incredibly disturbing screeching.
So imagine if you would being alone in a tent, being scared and being in a dreamworld that is equally if not more so terrifying. Thank you, creative mind. You're crawling through the catacombs of your deepest, darkest dreams when you're suddenly startled by the earth-shattering sound of your tent being plowed by god only knows what. You jolt awake like the dad in "Don't Wake, Daddy!" and can physically see your tent quaking after the impact proving that this is definitely not a dream. Your knuckles are stark white gripping your mag-lite ready to strike. You can hear the screams of what you can only imagine as horrible phantom, zombie babies being devoured by satanic wolves. Your heart is beating so fast and hard you feel actual pain. You come to a little more and decide FUCK THIS I'M OUT.
I sat for what seemed like 15 minutes (and was probably less than 5) before grabbing my sleeping bag and flashlight and running full speed back to my car stumbling in the overgrown brush. I slammed the door and pulled my bag up my body using the ever-popular "If I can't see you" tactic. I hear the doors lock and I feel a sense of relief knowing I'm at least protected by my tiny Ford Fiesta. As my comfort raises and my fear diminishes, I feel ready to observe what could have possibly caused so much terror. What creature is out in the night scaring me from my tent? I click on the flashlight. I take a deep, even breath. I slowly raise the light out of my sleeping bag and it reflects off the window back into my pupils. My eyes adjust and I finally get a look at the reason for all of my discomfort, my pain, my fear, my anguish. The reason I'm not sleeping. The reason I might turn around and drive home tomorrow. I see the creatures. I see... many of them. Their eyes are glowing back and I realize... they're deer.
I've run away from deer. The screeches are sounds of deer scratching their antlers on trees.
I am a coward that succumbed to the fear of the wolf in the night. I let my self get the best of me and now I'm sitting in my car like an idiot after running away from deer. It's funny how that works; how we can trick ourselves into being so alarmed by something so simple.
Is it possible we do this in our lives every day? Do we fear steps in life so much that we avoid them entirely fleeing to our cars and the depths of our sleeping bags? Am I at least brave for trying and what's the consolation? Would I do it again the next night? Camp alone away from anyone except an unidentified trailer park possible filled with a raucous band of murderers and thieves?
Of course it effects us everyday. We walk away from all sorts of opportunities because we fear. The comfort of what we know may always outweigh the feeling obtaining new success. When we let go of comfort and lack of fear we can become our most successfully selves. We step up to the challenge and we open ourselves up to new unfathomable possibilities. The consolation prize for me was being a little less scared the next night and even less the night after. It is worth it to face fear. It is worth it to be scared and alone.
Sometimes our fear feels different. It may not be about what goes bump in the night; it may be about facing situations that are difficult and hard to manage. While I was driving through Wyoming on my westward portion, I stopped at a rest area to use the facilities to freshen up and do some yoga. The pavilions of picnic tables are perfect for morning yoga at most rest stops. Every morning, I checked my tires, checked my oil, and checked my windshield wiper fluid. My front passenger side tired was noticeably worn down from the day before. It was honestly completely bare. I got back on the highway and realized that a pit stop for a tire change was happening on the next exit with a town. I cut off my music and rolled down the windows enough to be able to hear the car engine and tires. Sure enough, with a single road exit quickly approaching, I heard the distinctive pop of a rubber tire lacerating.
Maintaining speed, I cruised off the exit and came to a stop in a gravel lot only to quickly feel the tire deflate to the ground. There was nothing anywhere accept a sign indicating the miles in front of me as open shooting. Wyoming. I got out of my car and walked around the car to find a pile of human feces with dirty toilet paper next to my very deflated tire. I walked back around the car and reached for the door handle. I pulled. And I pulled again. And as a realized that my keys were sitting on the car seat, I also realized that there was no shade aside from the foot and a half next to my car at 10:30 am. That is to say, it was quickly disappearing. Luckily, I had slid my phone into my back pocket and got AAA on the line. I stayed calm the entire time. I reminded myself that worse things could have happened. Once they arrived, I was at a tire place within minutes. The tow driver snarkily joked that as a woman I wouldn't have been able to change the tire myself anyway. Regardless of his sexist demeanor, I was pumped to have someone to talk to for fifteen minutes. By noon, I had brand new tires at a ridiculous-only-in-the-middle-of-Wyoming price. I had survived! In fact, I walked out of the situation incredibly satisfied to have brand new tires. It would be safe to say that that tire exploding was maybe one of the best parts of my trip. Tires last a long time!
The world is not THAT scary. We're still lucky enough to have civility (for now) in our country. Use your brain, plan well, and always have water. Learn to check your tires, oil and fluids. Go to places you've never been before and do it confidently. Be ready to get your hands dirty. Be ready to be scared. Be ready to be lonely and be even more ready to welcome company. And shit, enjoy all of it.
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More stories are coming soon... The Adventure posts will go live on Mondays.