Solo Camping for Two Nights: Doublin’ Down at Governor Dodge

I almost can’t believe how much I love camping. I want to do it all the time. I want to do it right now. I want to plan out the meals, do the shopping, do the packing, find the spot, set it up, do the hikes, do the sleeps, do more hikes, find the birds, research the birds, relax and eat and do it again. Get sick of nature, desire a shower, dream about fancy product, drive home with slight sadness, force the unpack, and do it again.

This time I explored Governor Dodge in Iowa County and on my way to my site I saw this on the campground road. Right on, kids. I’m working on it.

The first night I was not yet in the vacation mindset, still sort of reeling and not sure how to relax, but I found a feather and spent time checking out the wildflowers and then I heard a Veery and I was starting to get in the groove. Getting mesmerized by bird sounds, I began to forget to worry about things. I stopped and listened.

Breakfast, inspired by the Murny. Is there anything better than strong, hot coffee on a cool morning in the woods? Nope.

Next I met a new exciting bird buddy. The American Redstart, which I will call the rockabilly warbler. Seriously. It wears flames on black. And it kept watch over me both mornings from the same branch. Thanks, tough little guy.

Photo from Wikipedia.

Later I hiked the Lost Canyon Trail, where I finally saw Stephen’s Falls, something I missed the last time I was at this park at least ten years ago. And since I was weekday camping, I had it all to myself. The mist was cooling and soothing and I sat thinking about the family that lived on the property a hundred years ago with their ten kids on land that had a waterfall and how they built brick houses over the springs as makeshift refrigerators. The kids must have been wild with all that water. This photo does it no justice. Totally worth seeing in person.

Back at camp. I have this NAILED, as you can see by the tuna snacks and DC, so I basked in the glory with a sunhat and worked on my checklist for a bit.

Later I cooked sausages and mushrooms over the fire and even though it was still daylight, a raccoon came right up to me, basically demanding some of my dinner. He was fearless. And relentless. I chased him away but he kept trying from different angles. Still I never gave him any food, because I will not participate in the conditioning! There was a sign at the park office about not feeding those rascals and I’m following the rules for sure. It felt like this:

Artwork by Charley Harper, who captured wildlife like no one else. Image borrowed from fabframes.com.

More wildlife. A fancy-pants caterpillar had an opinion about my iPod choices and I think was planning to change the playlist.

At bedtime I heard at least four Barred Owls having a conversation with some Whip-poor-wills and it was awesome, but the raccoon came back and started scratching at my tent walls and I had to kick him away. Sorry, bro. It’s not you, it’s me. At this point I felt like I’d really done up the nature good, and it was time to get back to civilization in the morning.

I returned home refreshed and different and I was moving a little more slowly, paying a little bit more attention to my breath and the birds. Success. And wow. I almost made it through this whole post without saying something about getting out of Dodge.

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