Knitting, Novels, and a Black Lab – Reflections from Solo

Outdoor Leadership Encampment (OLE) prepares us for the forty-eight hours we spend by ourselves on Chewonki Neck.

Awesome instructors like Eric and Leah from Wilderness Medical Associates spend two full days arming you with all of the knowledge you could possibly need to tackle any backcountry medical emergency and generous teachers give their time to spend a night out on the neck teaching you how to tie knots, process wood, and cook campfire pizza. When the sun had set on our campsite and we had cleaned up any stray shreds of cheese or rogue splashes of tomato sauce, we got our first taste of the solo experience. We scattered up and down the shore of Inlet Point with the hope of preparing ourselves to face the nighttime alone. From 8:30 pm to 9:30 pm, we sat quietly and listened as the water lapped against the rocks and geese called out to each other through the darkness. Sitting in a Crazy Creek watching the water, I learned two things: that I’m not as scared of the dark as I thought, and that even layering all three of your thickest coats will not keep you warm from the chill that blows in off the water in early April. In my frozen stupor, I spent my hour alone with my knees pressed to my chest and dozing off. Leaving our little campsite the next day, I felt like I was prepared to face any obstacles that my solo might throw at me. I was sort of right, just not in the way I had imagined.

Packing for solos, I covered all my bases. I packed two sleeping bags again despite the fact that the temperature wasn’t expected to fall below 40 degrees, a ground tarp to keep all of my belongings off of the ground, and plenty of layers. I was ready to have two days to contemplate what I wanted to do in college and what made me happiest, to sleep whenever I wanted, and to read the books I hadn’t had time for. After my advisor dropped me off, I spent the better part of an hour making sure that my tarp and hammock were taut enough and just the right height. I should have known that chaos was about to ensue when the farm manager, Justin’s, dog showed up at my campsite without him. Given that I had only met Rosie the black lab once before, it took me a while to figure out who the dog begging me for attention belonged to. The cow poop on her name tag helped me to figure out who Rosie was. After walking Rosie back to campus, I spent the night curled up in my sleeping bag cocoon, reading.

This time, having two sleeping bags saved me from freezing! Saturday brought new challenges; I spent the day adjusting my tarp and finding ways to keep my hammock dry in the rain. I hadn’t anticipated needing to visit campus while on my solo, but counting my adventure with Rosie, I ended up returning to campus three times throughout my solo to exchange gear and to get help with some nausea. Looking back on my experience, while the rain and dampness were constant companions, I recognize just how much I learned over those two days. I rediscovered my love of fantasy novels and books in general, learned to appreciate the lessons that camping in poor weather drills into your head, and how to tuck yourself into a hammock without getting yourself sick from the swaying.

Did I get to sit and contemplate the fact that the rest of my life is slowly drawing closer and that I have absolutely no plans? No. Did I have a massive revelation about my habits? No. But I finished two books and started knitting a hat. I get to say that I pushed through a very wet and unexpectedly challenging solo. I get to take pride in the fact that I kept myself preoccupied for forty-eight hours. I suppose my point is that while some people are lucky enough to come away from a solo with a new perspective or some form of enlightenment, sometimes the circumstances make that kind of deep reflection nearly impossible. And that’s okay!

While the weather kept me from reflecting as much as I wanted to, it gave me the opportunity to feed my love of stories and to work on my knitting hobby. The rain and my attitude simply pushed me in a different direction in terms of self discovery. With my renewed love of reading, there is so much knowledge and wisdom that I can pull from the pages of books and with my knitting practice, there are so many different projects and techniques that I can now use. I haven’t changed as a person fundamentally, but I fed my happiness despite the discomfort of being constantly wet. I cultivated and grew the joy I find in life and for me, that’s more than enough.