Since I returned from my camping experiences alive and in one piece, I've considered them a success.
The Keewaydin summer camp was an excellent experience, despite the belief M&D sent me there in an attempt to eliminate me. In the pre-cellphone, no-GPS days, even the mildness of Canada's lake-strewn wilderness could kill you if you weren't prepared for foul weather, but those incredible high latitude sunsets, crystal clear ice cold water and sunbathing on bare rock more than offsets the occasional cloud of mosquitoes or black flies and the rare encounter with leeches or a portage through muskeg in the rain. And please ignore those people who say northern pike aren't good to eat; they've never had one fresh caught and fileted for breakfast.

The camp didn't lose anyone during my 2nd summer there, but the prior year one of the guides died while hauling a canoe over portage too close to the tracks; the CP Rail freight rushed past and the vortex picked him up and spun him around, snapping his neck in the process.

The closest I came to death during my time there was on a trip down the Sturgeon River; rounding a bend our group intruded on a moose standing in the water. We stopped paddling, remained quiet and did not disturb the giant; even submerged to his chest in the water, his head towered above us.

Canoe camping is unique among wilderness explorations; you don't use traditional pack frames and that lightweight, freeze dried crap is nowhere to be found. The wonnegans are just large boxes tied together with oiled leather straps and filled with canned goods, high density grains and other preserved foods. During portage you support the box across your shoulders with the leather strap over your head.

It's been nearly 30 years since I last carried a wonnegan or a canoe that way and my skull still sports a lateral groove where the strap compressed the layers of bone. The one wonnegan which doesn't lose weight as its contents are consumed is "the jewelry"; it's filled with all the aluminum and cast iron cookware - and I was lucky enough to be assigned to the team which carries the jewelry both years.



I was fortunate to spend my teen years a short drive from Haleakala; there are only a few trails through the crater, but there are enough permutations to keep things entertaining. On the rare occasion when a park cabin reservation was available, M&D's friends would immediately schedule vacation time or special work breaks and fly over for a large group hike on the available days.

The crater is young; please don't bring your favorite hiking boots as the volcanic cinders will rapidly saw the binding materials apart. If you choose to exit the crater via Kaupo Gap, that is where your footwear will fail; 8 miles of 15% grade puts a lot of stress on your feet. I hope you have a friend waiting at the bottom with a truck to drive you back around to the populated side of the island.

My favorite trail is the southern path from Kapalaoa cabin to the Paliku camp site; there's a couple of miles of black cinder trail I call "the moon walk" and I usually take it at a fast walk to light jogging pace over the undulating terrain, with occasional stops to listen to the silence marred only by the sound of my beating heart. Yes, it can be that quiet along that section.


My most recent camping trips have been to various weekend machine gun shoots in AZ with friends who have welcome connections within that community. After a full day of shooting at sticks of sweaty dynamite on stakes and trying to bring down the surprisingly durable homebuilt R/C deltawing aircraft, I'm always exhausted and quickly pass out. Apparently once I'm asleep, a brief chinook can collapse my shelter yet fail to wake me.
( Felis Concolor, Wed 4 Apr 2012, 10:48, Reply)