• Happy Winter Solstice! 🌇🌃

Tripping Sights and Sounds You Miss

Joined
Nov 14, 2018
Messages
1,595
Reaction score
765
Location
Heart of the Shawnee Nation
For me, it’s loons calling in the fog, or at sunset. Or utter quiet, which I never hear except while tripping. And stars, although I am rarely awake when they happen, I try to get out a couple times on every trip to stargaze in earnest.

These are the motivation I need to get in the car and go.

Oops, forgot to mention eating a nice piece of fresh whitefish. Makes my mouth water.
 
Sometimes I get a little lonesome for the crackle of a low fire , the smell of the burning soft wood and the first sip of whiskey as I recoup from a long travel day. I enjoy the sunset and the quiet of the woods settling in for the night.

I also miss morning coffee with my dog. We sit quietly watching the fog burn off the Lake … the quiet solitude. There is such a content feeling I find hard to explain.
 
The stars are part of why I love camping in fall. It gets dark sooner so I actually got some night awake time. Sometimes answering natures call in the middle of the night you get treated with an experience. Many times I exit the tent at O’dark thirty and enter a mystical dream world of a quiet dark forest and stars so bright they reflect just as brightly off the glassy calm water.

Waking up before the sun on a frosty fall morning. Hot coffee around the campfire watching the sunrise and the world wake up around you.

Other awesomeness is the sound and smell of a gentle rain. Sitting under a tarp and just observing the environment in quiet solitude.
 
I miss the loons for one thing, but mostly I miss the feelings of independence and control I get out there. From the moment I load the boat and push off from shore I am independent from all the problems, loose ends, deferred maintenance and family issues that I have at home. My world is much smaller on a trip, everything I have is in a couple of packs in the bottom of the boat and I feel like I can handle anything life can throw at me. Unlike in real life, I am more in control and there are a lot less variables to deal with.
 
Fortunately, I still have my vision. Without using my 2 Cochlear implants I am totally deaf. Due to the very high cost of these devices, I can not risk wearing them on the water. While using them I can hear but I miss a lot of nuisance. But I can remember what things sound like. As a result, I now experience my trips mostly in a visual dimension. I am still thankful that I can be out there.
 
For me, it’s loons calling in the fog, or at sunset. Or utter quiet, which I never hear except while tripping. And stars, although I am rarely awake when they happen, I try to get out a couple times on every trip to stargaze in earnest.

These are the motivation I need to get in the car and go.

Oops, forgot to mention eating a nice piece of fresh whitefish. Makes my mouth water.
Ditto for the sound of loons
 
Loons. We get a few stragglers in the fall migrating on Sierra lakes.
The bugling of elk.
Otters and mink swimming under the boat.
Bear tracks on the beach.
Ospreys and bald eagles.
The sound of rapids.
Campfire smoke and Dutch Ovens.
Spawning salmon.
 
Similar to lowangle al I mostly find myself missing the complete independence and self reliance. I can do what I want, when I want. It's also up to me, and only me, to do everything that needs to be done.

With no interruptions the ability to really think is something I don't get with everyday life. Often, when tripping, my mind will start thinking about something and I might spend the next 2-3 days mulling it over in my head. When my brain has reached resolution it drops the subject and finds something else to work on.

I also miss the endorphine high that comes from paddling and portaging all day every day for weeks on end. I feel absolutely unstoppable at the end of a long trip. Nothing else has ever given me that feeling.

Alan
 
I must be the odd one out because one of the things I don't like about canoe tripping up north is the utter silence at night. To me it feels too sterile.

I love the night sounds of frogs, toads, insects, owls, coyotes, and the strange noises I don't recognize that give me a puzzle to figure out.

Alan
 
Just getting away from the loud, stressful or otherwise annoying noises from family members, bosses and co-workers . . . okay, okay, humanity in general.

And more specifically . . .

. . . the somewhat erotic feeling of Royalex smoothly undulating over submerged river rocks.
 
Sights:

Dewy spiderwebs in the muskeg.

The first sight of that elusive portage landing.

Smoke rising vertically from the Kelly Kettle in the morning.
 
Me too Blackfly, about 3 days before I feel dialed into the little things subtle wind changes or hearing the layers of bush sounds. Also letting things slip out of my mind like wondering about emails or my chore list at home.
 
I must be the odd one out because one of the things I don't like about canoe tripping up north is the utter silence at night. To me it feels too sterile.

I remember I went to college in a downtown section of a large city. Got used to the constant noise. Traffic, firetrucks/police, and those loud city buses that would set off car alarms. I’d go back home on break and find myself laying in bed in absolutely silence. Feel odd. I’d have to make a noise to verify I didnt go deaf.

Sometimes camping you get those dead calm nights and it does not feel right. Find yourself over analyzing any sound you might hear. Definitely need some ambience noises.
 
I find it takes about three days for my brain to stop interpreting noises as human activity. The leaves rustle and I hear people talking, but there’s nobody there.

My favorite tripping sound I hear once only on every trip. It’s the click of the car door closing behind me at the put in. That sound means I won’t again be driving for a number of days. Driving carries a certain level of responsibility and anxiety that we accept so often we don’t think about it, and that click of the car door means that is lifted from me, at least for a while.
 
What many others have said. I'll add: the feeling of truly not having anywhere be to at any particular time. At home, there's always something I should be doing. During parts of a trip I have the luxury of lounging.
 
Back
Top