06-14-11 Just a little of that Human Touch

06-14-11

Do you think what I'm askin's too much
I just want something to hold on to
And a little of that Human Touch
Just a little of that Human Touch


0 miles


The gang of hikers, Gwen, Jeremy, Tyler and Richard prepare to leave for today’s hike to Sweet Briar Lake, some 17 miles to the east. It would be an easy hike yesterday but this day starts with cold, dusky hewn skies and light rain. Thunderclaps can be heard to the southwest.
Jeremy comes over to my camp area and helps me get a video together for my Kickstarter project.
As we wrap up, Richard and Tyler come by, for a second I think they are wanting to see how the video is going but then I realize it is a subtle sign .that Jeremy needs to get ready to head out. I say goodbye and they go back under their shelter and load their gear on for the hike…as the weather worsens. Intrepid they are, pragmatic…?
I see the 3 guys walking up the road and assume Gwen has gone ahead and will meet them at one of the gas stations up the road. As they get to the point of the road that will take them out of sight of the camp area they turn and I wave to them as the wave to me.  Then they shout out things like “Good luck on your journey” and “Keep dry”!  My only reply to both is a weak “You Too!” And they are gone.
And after that the storms follow.
I stay out on the picnic tables and type up a few things and then go thru my AAA camp guides for the next 5 states looking at pathways and camping possibilities. Michigan seems daunting. Not only are the gas prices some of the worst in the country, but the camping rates for most of the state seem exorbitant.
Indiana has some good rates, but not along the path I wanted. If I detour to places along the Ohio river, my camping prices decrease significantly Or take a path thru Ft. Wayne to Muncie. We’ll see when I get there, I guess.
A rainy day doesn’t do much to inspire action. And cold in the air and massive storm walls with lightning, thunder and heavy rain encourages early hibernation. I take everything into the tent and hope it will pass soon and the day will return to the glorious sunshine of yesterday. It said 60% chance of rain, which I took to mean that there was a 60% chance it would rain sometime that day in that place - not that it would rain 60% of the time that day in that place!
I think about the comfort and safety of the hikers. I realize I miss the company. Having people with agile minds and ready smiles, good stories and good will is something I realize that I miss. Facebook provides some of that, in that there is a regular group of people I  exchange comments and post with whenever I get on line.  But sharing a moment in time at a definable place with other people in “real time” with spontaneous responses to comments that sometimes cause a tumult of comments is something that I recognize have missed. I’m not lonely. Mischa is a great companion. But here communication is limited. I believe that I understand here various communications better than anyone else and that she understands me very well, but it’s not the gift that true conversation gives. Here companionship is wonderful and comforting, but it is not the same thing as conversation with other people.
So I go back to writing in the tent but the weather is so horrid that I just end up playing endless games of Peggle and then watching tV episodes I downloaded  (for free) from iTunes (The Killing and Teen Wolf Pilots) Then I start  listening to an audio book in the Dresden Files series  that I hadn’t finished (Summer Knight) and look outside as it has gotten light outside finally. It’s still very cold, but it’s light I’m seeing. I check my clock on the computer - it says it’s 9:35 pm. What?!
Boy have I frittered away a day. I can’t say I burned daylight and there was little of that to be seen. I resign myself that the day is almost over and that (Hopefully) tomorrow will be a better day. I listen to the audio book till I realize I’ve dozed and lost my place in the story. I turn it and the computer off and go to sleep moving Mischa under my covers as it is chillingly cold.
Around 2 am I am woken up by someone driving nearby with a throaty muffler. Muscle Car I imagine. It slows and then drives off slowly. I’m presuming the bars have just closed and this person is heading home but perhaps thinking of extending the fun of his evening with some hi-jinks. I keep alert for the next 45 minutes until I’m reasonable certain no one is coming near the tent. I go back to sleep with the occasional train passing noisily through the nearby town of New Salem.