Earthwords

By JIM HIGGS

Let us ruminate about solitude. Needing some slow time, I packed my tent, my fishing poles, a journal, food and many bottles of water, a couple of books, and my new Raleigh twenty-one speed mountain bike and headed for Horseshoe Bend at the top of Lake McClure. Most of the journey was absent conversation with anyone save myself. I wandered into a Lake Don Pedro grocery, bought two dozen crawdads and a Coleman lantern and headed toward Coulterville on Highway 132.

Arriving within the camp grounds, it took me a good half hour to select the most isolated camp site. Since there were a total of three campsites occupied by solitary men, I had the pick of most camp sites. I selected number 15 and proceeded to unpack. I had forgotten how time consuming it is to set up camp. The tent took time because there was a strong wind. Of course, I had to arrange my sparseness in just a certain order. That is one of the joys of solitude. There is no one with another time frame. There is only you and your thoughts. I was unbothered by anyone during my entire thirty hours at the campground.

After tenting and arranging foods, it was time for a bike ride on my new equipment. I surveyed the park, finding those places that I would return to later during my short stay. I had tired of waiting until there was no forecast of hot, sunny days. It was supposed to rain. The clouds provided a ceiling for lighting and as the sun descended, I took in the beauty of nature; the hills, the lake from which I was fishing and the rolling foothills in the foreground. I was happy to be alive and free from the responsibilities to others and providing myself with some distance from my two years as Academic Senate president of the faculty of Modesto Junior College.

Returning to camp, I heated some packaged soup, ate it and an apple and then tackled putting together my new Coleman lantern. It stayed lit with just one match. I read previous journal entries and wrote a new one. Then I read from Satchmo: My Life in New Orleans,, Louis Armstrong's first autobiography. Then I obeyed nature and headed for my tent. My first night out in the tent was relatively sleepless. I had many voices inside my head which needed to be heard. They marched in and out for what seemed to be all night.

Arising with the birds, I unlocked the bike, had a cup of thermos coffee and went for an hour's ride. I saw no one stirring except the teenagers at a far away home I assumed was the ranger's. I went down to the lake's edge often, enjoying the ripples caused by a gentle wind and the phantom fish I did not catch the previous evening nor later in the morning. One of the pleasures that I forget to make regular is being out in nature. I had the world before me and I selected some drift wood pieces for my car's dash and a green pine cone to symbolize my new life.

For two days I was free to go wherever fancy led me; free to break camp at mid morning and take the scenic and very curvy Highway 49 up and down canyons , many without guard rails. I lighted for a short stay in Hornitas, photographing old buildings and, Italian and Spanish gravestones.

We move too fast most of the time. Here I was able to go at my own pace, stop when and where I wanted and all this with classic music from KUOP 91.3 FM on the car radio. Sometimes we avoid being alone. I realize the difference between being lonely and alone. I was alone. Solitude is necessary for self growth. Solitude is necessary for change. Big changes in one's life should be given respect and time. I had taken good care of myself for two days. You do the same.