Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Because I’m not a cold weather fan, I spend most of the winter season holed up indoors yearning for fresh air and sunshine. It’s the warmer temperatures of spring that finally lure me beyond the four walls. Outside, my senses work overtime to absorb the springtime emergence as the forests come alive, the wildlife scamper, animals call to one another, flowers bloom, and the trees bud.

I’m like a dried sponge that needs rejuvenated.

When those warmer days arrive I desperately long to exchange my business attire for cutoffs and a T-shirt, toss aside my shoes, and find the nearest pool of water to launch my kayak, set my fishing line, and soak in some rays. In fact, for years I’ve thought about spending the first month of spring off the grid and communing with nature.

I can picture the whole scenario in my head.

My kayak laden with a tent, fishing gear, and some live bait, pulled to the edge of the river bank and ready to set sail. For quick access I’d stuff a multi tool in my pocket along with a magnesium fire starter. Then, there’s the water purification straw in case I need to drink from a stream, a sleeping bag, a pillow (I should be allowed one comfort of home), cooking utensils, a hatchet, some parachute cord (survivalists say this is a must have item), a first aid kit, bug spray, mosquito netting, a few gallons of fresh water (uh, maybe more than a few), and some MRE’s (in case I don’t catch any fish). Oh, and a change of clothes . . . or two.

By this point I would have to attach several dry bags to my kayak and float them along side because I would run out of room inside my yak.

To the back of my yak I could tie one of those floating ice chests that looks like a giant bobber. That would keep some perishable foods cold for a few days. Then, after those items were depleted, I could use the bobber to help me string a trotline, hold any fish I caught, store firewood, create a water cistern with it, or use it as a washbasin.

With all this stuff I believe my Kayak would look like the Clampet’s gone camping. There probably wouldn’t even be room inside my yak for me to sit, so I’d have to don an inner tube and join the procession of dry bags floating beside my fishing/gear storage vessel.

Anyway, with my kayak loaded, I’d shove off and head for some island in the middle of the river. What river? I’m not sure, but it would have to be somewhere far enough from civilization where my cell phone wouldn’t work—which is why I would take a satellite phone that could be used for emergency purposes only. Plus I’d need an EPIRB or a PLB, extra batteries, and some way to charge the sat phone.

Once I found this secluded island I would survey my surroundings and then set up camp. And there I’d stay for the month, or three weeks, or perhaps two . . . weeks that is, or two days. Ok, maybe just two hours. Well, I’d definitely stay longer than two minutes! At the least, I should make it worth my while and stay long enough to use the supplies I brought. I mean I did spend all that time planning and prepping and packing.

Truthfully, I have always wanted to go off the grid for a short period of time. But perhaps I should take someone with me who knows what they’re doing . . . for real. Or maybe I should complete a survival course first. And I should finish reading that survival book I purchased, wrap it in cellophane and bring it with me . . . in case I need to reference a page or two . . . or twenty-five.

I’ll let you know if I ever decide to go off the grid. In the mean time, I think I should work on my packing list—and check into buying a canoe so I can carry more gear.

What about you? Have you ever felt like going off the grid? If so, where would you go? What would you do? Share your thoughts and ideas with us.

~ Jill ~

• all photos are compliments of pixabay.com