Not Leaving, Arriving

I need to reboot, so I'm turning myself off. I'm putting away Facebook, Myspace, Orkut, Skype, AIM, the whole lot of it. I'm turning my phone off. And I'm packing my things, and tomorrow I'm driving out to the ranch, where I can camp peacefully by the creek. Fortunately, the ranch is plenty large enough that I can safely count on not being seen or bothered by anyone. I plan to spend at least three days there without human contact. If I don't hike up by noon on the third morning, my father will know where I am and can come looking for me. If I decide to stay longer, I'll hike up to advise him and then return.

Gear list:

• Tent with fly (but I'll leave it off unless it rains)
• Canvas tarp
• Sleeping bag
• Foam mat (for both yoga and sleeping)
• Pillow
• 5 gallon jug of water and cup
• One change of clothes
• Boots
• Cast iron pot
• Cast iron skillet
• Rice
• Oatmeal
• Canned corn and beans
• Salt
• Tea
• iPod (yes, me di cuenta... but there'll only be one charge, so it's at least limited)
• Hammock and rope
• Journal and pens
• Knife
• Matches
• Basic first aid kit

I can dip in the creek when it's hot, snack on the mint that grows near it, and if I'm lucky find some berries. I'll watch the sun rise and set, and the Milky Way cross the sky at night. I'll hear the coyotes under the moon and the birds greet the morning. I still can't walk all too well (because of dislocating my knee while in the unforgiving jungle of Belize), so I'll have to plan my day treks well. I'll be maybe two miles from the nearest house, but just far enough to get a world away.

I was told by a good friend that I need to be alone. He didn't mean that I should go off and do this at all, but he was right. I need this desperately.

And if I do it right, I won't be leaving, I'll be arriving.