Cascadia

9. Into the Wild

First night in the Cascades was an absolute shitshow. Try as he might, Avid couldn't seem to get a fire started to save his life, so he spent a sleepless night crammed in the passenger seat of his car, huddled under heavy blankets, pounding beers one after the other. The drunker he got, the less the frigid mountain air seemed to bother him.

The next morning, he slammed a lukewarm energy drink and went about setting up his tent a great distance off the main trail, which took him the better part of the morning. By the time he'd driven the last stake into the ground, it was lunchtime. After filling himself on turkey sandwiches and trail mix, he dug through his backpack until he found a book titled The Survivalist's Handbook. He thumbed through its contents until he found the instructions for building the perfect campfire and proceeded to read through it several times until he felt it had been perfectly ingrained in his head. Several failed attempts at a fire were made before he finally got it going, just in time for the sun to begin its slow descent behind the trees.

That night, he posted up in his collapsible chair and used a forked branch to roast hotdogs over the open fire. He relished in the peaceful solitude of the forest, comforted in knowing that way out here, there was almost no chance he'd encounter any ghosts or restless spirits looking to talk his ear off the moment they realized he could see them. Out here, he was completely free of the burdens of responsibility, free of the socially imposed rigamarole, free to be totally and utterly Avid Jenson. Out here, he was also totally alone with the shadows hanging between the trees like a heavy curtain. That part creeped him out a little bit.

As the hours grew later and later, the temperatures began to drop lower and lower. The air grew so cold that even though he stayed close to the roaring fire, he found himself praising the Patagonia Gods for the heat his jacket provided. Left with nothing but the darkness and his own thoughts to keep him company, he retired to his tent.

Sleeping proved to be an entirely different type of challenge. The forest ground was hard and uncomfortable. He could feel every rock, twig, and dirt clod despite being cocooned inside a three-hundred-and-fifty dollar sleeping bag. He spent the entire night tossing, turning, and shifting in a struggle to find comfort within the confines of his spacious Eddie Bauer tent. In the morning, he woke up feeling more tired than he had the day before.

The second day came and went with absolutely no contact from the outside world. Avid was utterly alone, and despite how hard he tried to embrace the solitary life, he found it difficult to fight off the boredom. Summer was fading fast, taking with it the heavy infestation of outdoorsy alcoholics, health-conscious families, bucket-listing retirees, and nomadic van-dwellers who often flocked to campsites during the warmer months. There was a distinct feeling of isolation all around him as if he had the entire forest all to himself, a prospect which both excited and frightened him simultaneously.

There were bright moments throughout the day – moments which were filled with glorious beauty whenever he reflected on them. Like the deer who often encroached on his spot at sunrise, like ghosts in the morning mist moving gently between the trees seeking dew-soaked grass leaves to munch. Avid was always careful not to make any sudden movements lest he scare them away. He sipped his strong, black coffee and watched the magnificent does and their young ones, always overcome with a sense of awe at just how magical the natural world could be once one got beyond the initial discomfort.

Night came upon him quickly, bringing with it the dark shadows and unnamed sounds of the forest that, for someone who'd spent his entire life surrounded by the chaos and noise of the city, felt rather unnerving. Equipped with an electric lantern and his Survivalist's Handbook, Avid was just about to settle into his tent for the night when he heard a rustling sound. Something was moving around outside of his tent. He froze, unsure whether he should dim the light or not. Whatever was out there had assuredly already been made aware of his presence. Pulling his sleeping bag up around his neck, he remained perfectly still so as not to attract any further attention to his presence.

The rustling ceased momentarily, only to start up again somewhere off to his left. It sounded like claws scraping against something metallic. My car! Someone's trying to break into my car! He listened, trying to determine if the source of the noise was human or animal, but it was impossible to tell. Slowly, he sat up and reached for the zipper of his tent, taking the little metal tab between his fingers, pulling carefully to avoid making too much noise.

A ninja he was not, and despite his best stealthy intentions, Avid ended up fumbling with the flap, spilling out through the tent opening with the grace of a blind seal diving from a rooftop. He pushed to his feet and immediately grabbed the handle of the electric lantern, holding it out at arm's length. White beams of light reflected off the blue paint of his car as he scanned the area and spotted a pair of glowing eyes watching him from between the back tires. The eyes vanished almost as soon as they appeared.

What the fuck was that?

A loud crash sent him spinning on heel just in time to see the leaves of a nearby bush swaying violently. He could hear the rustling of little paws scurrying off somewhere in the darkness, but he didn't dare try to follow. He waited awhile, but the creature (whatever the hell it was) did not return. Or at least, he didn't see it again. Knowing there was a good chance it still lurked somewhere nearby, observing him from somewhere unseen, discomforted him deeply. He hurried back into his tent, zipping it tightly closed and extinguishing the lantern. In complete darkness he sat, listening, waiting.

But he couldn't wait forever. Soon his eyes grew heavy, and he drifted off into a deep slumber filled with bizarre dreams that were immediately forgotten by morning when he awoke to the sound of a heavy rain beating down on his nylon tent.

It was only the third day, and he was already starting to regret attempting to survive in the great unknown. How he longed for the warmth and comfort of his own bed. Morning came with a side of restlessness, a gnawing feeling he should abandon his entire plan and drive back into civilization where he could treat himself to an affordable hotel and a hot shower.

Once the rain turned to a light drizzle, Avid brewed up coffee in a battery powered coffee machine and worked the stiffness from his muscles. As beautiful as nature could be, it sure took a toll on his body. He raised the back hatch of his car and sat on the bumper, protected from the rain as he sipped at the bitter coffee. Breakfast consisted of a bag of kettle-cooked potato chips and a tin cup filled with purified water poured from a store-bought jug.

By midday, it was apparent that the rain was not going to stop. Avid took it as a sign. He broke down camp and loaded his things into the back of his little hybrid vehicle. He used the last of his purified water to extinguish the last remaining embers in the firepit before climbing into the driver's seat, disappointed to discover he had no cell service. Swearing under his breath, he fired up the engine and headed back toward the main road.