liber V

liber V

leaving duluth we stopped for supplies and made some informal decisions

to camp the night. after an hour or so of joking, smoking, and driving

back south we picked a state park just off the interstate. in fact

i remember the highway cutting right through the path of several, guiding

us to our history, taking us to our fate. after pitching the tent and

struggling to start a fire with freshly dampened wood. we even bought

some at the gate, like good little tourists, but it was wet as well.

so to no avail and 6 beers later,

we went for a tromp through the woods. we had some map they gave us at

the gate, like good little tourists but failed to remember to bring it,

like good little tourists.

following the path in circles it seemed. losing the path altogether

and deciding to just get moving toward some river the rangers had mentioned.

bushwack those ferns. hop this log. ohh whats that. looks like somebody's

home. a nice nest i'm guessing. and then the rush of the st. croix river

running in the distance. a herd of horses passing in a breeze. finding a

simple place to sit and gaze into the river's flow, we took off our shoes and

socks to dangle our feet in the fresh clean water. still without a shower.

busting out the whiskey. he staked some claim that there were animals and

creepy crawlies in the water. i assured him "yeah, probably, leeches

main..." "Leeches!" it escaped him before i had finished. "yeah, no big deal,

you probably won't catch anthing." i was unaware of how my up bringing

had been nothing but well-rounded, but lacking discipline. i couldn't

understand the aversion to life but to each their own. needless to say

after several conversations exaulting our pride that we were on our own

a few spats to see who might fall in, and fumbling with our wit and

strange associations, his feet were covered in leeches. i counted

at least 5 just on his right foot. after laughing and gathering the

humor in the moment, i helped him pick them off, or maybe he did that himself.

drying our feet, rolling on our socks, stringing up our shoes, we headed

back the road we took, a pet-peev of mine, but it had turned dark, and i decided

not voice this. getting back to the site we though it might be a good idea

to move camp. we were the only one's around, it seemed, except for that old

couple who have probably lived there since march, the only one's that mattered.

throwing the tent on the car, sleeping bags and all, who wants to undo whats just

been done. we drove the 500 feet or so to a campsite with some more cover, rain

was brewing in the air. after settling in and getting a fire started, finally,

we got out dinner and went to town. cutting up this, chopping that, frying up

some salami and cheese on a make shift skillet. we played music and laughed into

the evening. two together at the hour of the wolf. howling at the moon.

i wonder why i had not done this earlier. i had the opportunities. i had

the self-reliance. and the luck. this was great and i believe he felt the same.