Comforting Discomfort

Comforted by discomfort - as long as it's naturally created. Like the splash of cool alpine lake water or waking up to the cold chill of ice flakes falling on your already chilled skin.

After two weeks straight sleeping in my bag, I discovered that my idea of comfort as it relates to the outdoors is different than most. I crave simplicity over chaos and can get by with very little. A few granola bars, a little hummus and tortillas, some fruit. Fresh water ... I'm good.


I find unnatural discomfort distinctly discomforting. Introducing... the Yosemite Valley Pines "Campground". Call it - tent city. Yes, people bring uhaul's to camp and set up dining areas.

They bring boats, and chairs, and paddles, and rent tubes. The roll up in Escalades with spinners and F350's with extended beds and cabs. They bring stoves and grills and ...
Women hoard bathrooms in the morning fixing hair and makeup.
Often they set up shop here to charge their phones reading next to the only power outlet in the campground.

All receptacles are bear proof. Not that people pay attention to that. You often hear screams at night as bears attempt to break into cars and tents bearing food.

This was my space. I'm obviously inexperienced lacking a grill, generator and dubs. In my defense, I did have a headlamp. It used it to scour maps in the evenings for hikes I could take around work hours.

As crazy as the campground was I made friends there. In addition to sharing my bear box, my neighbors felt a need to keep an eye out for the quiet girl next door camping all alone. They initially were concerned I had no friends. It was endearing I admit. They provided a seat around the warm fire on 40 degree evenings and hot mint tea. One was a climber and put the idea in my head to head outside of the park to climb mountains and backpack... this set the stage for an adventure to come. They were good people. We're still in touch.

Some share similar ideas surrounding experience outdoors. This was home for a night. It was the best home yet. A simple 1 pound tarp staked with one pole holding up the middle. Two sleeping bags and pads made for a cozy interior. No footprint. We had a small stove to boil water for soup and morning hot chocolate and a water filter to "purify" cool glacier water. It was cold that night - well below freezing. I was comforted by the chill in the air and the distant remote space. Perhaps even by time spent with a stranger turned familiar. It was an adventure. I was left wanting more - extreme.

Returning from the left coast, it's been hard to sleep in a bed again. I miss the simple solid footprint that only the ground and fresh cool air can provide. I'm happy to be back, with friends and in my forest; however, my sleep hasn't been as sound since.

Guess i'm lacking proper discomfort for truly comfortable rest...hmm.