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I've been looking for something to do to celebrate the anticipated conclusion of this draft of The Slow Palace. I've also been fantasizing about a long bike trip that ends with sleeping under the stars. Hmm.
So here's the plan: tie this tent and a sleeping bag to my rack, fill my pannier with clothes and food, fill my backpack with whatever else I might need, and ride 30 miles north to this state park. Return home two nights later, modulo having been eaten by bears.
I'm torn between freaking out over the scope of this endeavor and chastening myself for freaking out. Thirty miles is only twice my work commute; camping in a tent at a state facility (with showers in the bathrooms) is not exactly roughing it. Still, by my standards, it feels pretty adventurous.
So here's the plan: tie this tent and a sleeping bag to my rack, fill my pannier with clothes and food, fill my backpack with whatever else I might need, and ride 30 miles north to this state park. Return home two nights later, modulo having been eaten by bears.
I'm torn between freaking out over the scope of this endeavor and chastening myself for freaking out. Thirty miles is only twice my work commute; camping in a tent at a state facility (with showers in the bathrooms) is not exactly roughing it. Still, by my standards, it feels pretty adventurous.
