Backcountry camping solo offers a treasure that is becoming increasingly more difficult to find in daily life: Silence.
Absolute Silence.
Wonderful, blissful Silence.
From the moment I wake up until the moment I go to bed, I hear nothing but the sounds of birds in the trees, the wind in the leaves and the calls of the loons. You can hear the chittering of a chipmunk clear as day from a hundred feet away, and the footsteps of a raucous red squirrel on the crunchy fallen leaves could be mistaken for a much larger woodland critter.
The peace that exists in that kind of silence cannot be overstated. Nor can it be properly explained. It’s quite simply put: bliss.
The morning of the second day at camp started as silently as any other backcountry camping morning. While I lay in my tent I can hear the four-legged forest critters scamper through the leaves, their vocalizations crisp on the clear air, the sparse song of a hermit thrush and a chorus of *chip* calls from various songbirds. I layer on my clothing as it’s quite cold and emerge from my tent with camera, binoculars and bear spray in hand. I’m excited by the wildlife I might get to see today. I look out over the lake and can’t see through the heavy fog, so I meander on over to the bear hang and let down the suspended food, eager for a cup of hot coffee and a fresh oatmeal breakfast.
As I prepare the dehydrated apples, mangos, blueberries, and raisins to add to my pre-made oats mixture, I’m unexpectedly visited by a small flock of birds I was surely hoping to see on this trip: Red Crossbills. As I take notice of them, I thank the wind for having forced me to this site. The Crossbills vary from shades of red, orange, green, and yellow, and these parrot-like songbirds are curious and inquisitive and they’re here for a strange reason—to visit the fire pit. (It’s theorized that they eat ash from fire pits for the potassium and calcium that may be lacking in their diets of conifer seeds.) I excitedly (but calmly) grab my camera and move out of their way, positioning myself in a spot where I won’t impose yet be able to get photos. Already this trip is proving to be better than I had hoped. Desired visitors on the first day!
The Crossbills don’t stick around for long, and the cool wind picks up with gusto soon after they leave. The sun eventually burns through the fog, but due to the strong wind from the east, it does little to warm me. So I zip my puffy jacket up to the tippy-top and try my best to enter a “relaxed vacation” frame of mind, settling in to read my book.
Throughout the day I notice small flocks of Warblers, Nuthatches, Blue Jays and Robins working their way through the forest. I also cross paths with Thrushes, Sparrows and a lone Ruffed Grouse. All of these are superb sightings which I am thankful for; however, the cold wind causes everyone to seek shelter from its strength, and for the rest of the day my camera rests idly by my side. I too seek shelter from the wind and find it behind my tent; engrossed in my book, I decide to take no more pictures today. Before I know it, the sun has nearly set and sits low in the sky, the wind has stopped blowing, and I welcome the return of complete silence to end my day.
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