My feet are killing me. I can’t wait to find a good spot to set up my camp and finally get to rest. Honestly, I don’t even know why I had this stupid idea in the first place. Maybe I just wanted to go with it, or maybe I genuinely needed something new. It is okay, it is fine. I can get used to it. Getting used to harsh conditions always brought me success. That is the only secret everybody yearns to know. And I'm the proof of that statement in flesh. Some say it’s arrogance, I take that every time. Bah! Hence the reason I’m here, is it not? If it is arrogance it takes to become successful, so be it. I don’t understand what the problem is with people, it is not that hard to grasp really. I feel like they are missing some sort of insight that only I possess in the entire world. Hence the reason I’m here! Right… I had to get away. All the migraine that people cast upon me rendered me weary. I needed something new, something I haven’t struggled with yet, and something I know I can overcome.
To be fair, I wanted to visit this place before. The scenery is magnificent. The Skilak Lake that wraps around the forest imbues the dry air of Southern Alaska with chilly moisture. The banks of The Hidden Creek that flows down into The Skilak Lake possess heavenly abundance of plant life and fish. Landscape is flat and not much invaded with spruce. Since it is late spring, the temperature is not as cold. What a great way to spend the weekend. I needed this, I needed this.
I ventured rather further than the designated campground. I wanted no one to initiate contact with me. I only have two days to spend in solitude, so I want to experience it to its fullest. Since I will be away from people, I took every bit of measurement not to turn this special experience into a disaster. I brought my compass, and bought a map along with a bunch of tools at the campground road. The map they prepared had no indications for directions whatsoever, so I drew one myself at the top corner of the page. I carry more than enough canned food and many useful tools in my bag. Before I ventured off the path, I saw people with similar backpacks, yet theirs weren’t as fat as mine. I might even have overdone it, but who cares, I safely carried them here so it doesn’t matter. Being overcautious is the only thing that starts with “over” and does no harm to you.
After carefully navigating through the forest along the lake for a little more while, I was finally able to see the creek. Now, these areas are where people never step foot in. This might have made me feel a little special, in a sense. But I pulled myself away from these thoughts immediately. I was no fool, this is not my office anymore, I’m out of my comfort zone. Nature is great; all around me was the life she sprinkled with her lavish hands. Everything seemed alive; even the thick soil beneath me, and the flowing creek above it. And whatever is alive, needs to survive; just like business. It is no different here among the spruce than my business arena. The big, devours the weak. One hunts the other, to climb higher.
I closed up to the creek as much as I could and saw the countless fish wiggling in chaos. I have never seen such big fish in my life. In the depths of nature, even the ordinary fish are way bigger than what we regularly see among the concretes. I had no idea what kind of fish they were, but I knew they would be here. That is why I wanted to set up my camp near the creek. Not that I will need to hunt for food to strive or anything, but I wanted to try catching some fish. I will do it just for the fun of it.
I felt very satisfied with my decision and finally released the backpack that has been stapling me to the ground. I started rummaging through it to find and take out the footprint and the stakes. Then pulled the rolled-up tent from next to my bag and started to settle down. With the tools I brought, it was fairly easy to set it up. I nailed the stakes from each corner with my hammer; they were sufficiently firm. After tying the footprint, I was already done with putting the tent together. Next, I laid my sleeping bag inside and started to sort the items while I'm at it. I made a consumption plan for my consumables and took notes to follow them properly using the pen and tiny notebook I brought with me. I unfolded my camp chair right outside the entrance, secured my pocketknife inside my back pocket and left some of the items for the tent; such as my flashlight with its spare batteries, a lantern with its liquid gas bottle and the lighter to light it, my can opener and four canned vegetables, a bowl and eating utensils, two extra pairs of socks, and two extra under wears. For the final touches, I set my camp stove and cooking utensils outside my tent, next to my camp chair, and walked a few steps backwards to frame the beautiful campsite I built with my eyes. I was doing great, I was ready.
My plan was to spend every minute of my time here by being busy with trivial things. I did not want to be concerned about time here, so I left my watch back at home. I wanted to live the moment and not plan ahead. I wanted to hunt, scavenge, build, explore, work out… I had no intentions of just being left there with nothing to do and seek entertainment out of boredom. Entertainment was not an option.
It was getting closer to dusk, and the wind picked up its pace. I cuddled into my coat and started venturing close by to accomplish my first goal; to create a wooden spear. I was not a fool to try and spend these two days with nothing to defend myself. Getting my hands on a weapon as the first thing would ensure my safety, and later come in handy when catching fish from the creek. I found a firm and straight branch and got to breaking it as soon as possible. The branch’s width made it rather hard to break, so I shaved it off from its root with my pocketknife and eventually managed to pull it out of its base. The thing was quite long and hard. I thought making it a little shorter would make it easier for me to wield it, so I took it to my camp and got to shaving it to snap it once again. As I worked on my weapon, sitting on my chair, I once again admired the scenery. The creek was flowing with such elegance, the sound of water flowing through the shallow rocks was tenfold better than any of mankind's greatest methods of psychiatry. The forest felt like a singular living entity with its echoing symphony, yet the birds that voiced it remained elusive phantoms— heard in every rustling leaf and distant call, yet never glimpsed by the searching eye. The fish were moving in such a chaotic manner, yet that very chaos was the only constant order they followed. Although there are hundreds of things to see and hear around me, there is no sound nor view at this very moment that is disturbing to my senses.
I finally got my wooden spear shorter and shaved its tip further to form a sharper edge. I swung it around to see if it felt comfortable, it was perfect. I even got a little excited to use it on something, but it never goes the way you think it does. I hope to never find myself in a situation where I have to stab this spear to something other than fish.
#
With the same method, I piled a collection of firm branches which are as close to each other in proportions as possible. Then fixed two of them to the ground in an angle that would form an “X” that has its intersection point higher than its center. I did the same thing exactly one wide step away with two more branches parallel to the previous ones, and tied their intersection points with the reed I collected around the bank. Finally, I placed one last branch in between them to create a rack to hang my fish and dry them. After completing my rack, I was beginning to feel like a real camper. I was so proud of myself, especially for the fact that I managed to make use of reeds to tie it together. Now the only thing I needed to do was to catch some fish.
I got a hold of my spear and started walking towards the creek. I noticed how loud it gets as I got closer. I took off my boots and tucked my socks inside of them. I rolled my trousers up and dipped my foot into the water. After feeling its coldness, a shiver ran up to my skull that forces me to pull my foot back. Yet immediately after, I willed myself to fully step inside. Once my feet were fully submerged, I breathed in through my teeth until I got used to the coldness. Then I moved further into the running water and got the wiggly fish to cross my ankles. They were tickling me, but my mental motto allowed me to get used to even a situation this extreme in a matter of seconds. It was nothing for a man like me. Just thinking rationally is all I need; it’s not like they’ll bite my feet or anything. They are just ticklish, and that’s all. That was all.
I raised my spear and started waiting patiently. With each fish passing by I adjusted my eyes to follow their movements better. I swung one, but it missed. My next swing contacted a fish, but I failed to stab it. I held my breath and tried to focus once again. It was harder than I thought, but nothing that I can’t accomplish. The following three swings were really close to stab one. I even hurt one and it bled, but it wiggled away leaving a red trail for the creek to wash away. My next two swings were back-to-back, the second one of which was surprisingly the successful one. I immediately held the fish to prevent it from wiggling its way out of my spear and pulled it towards the center of it. It had more weight in its movements than I assumed. In fact, the fish itself was quite heavy. It almost brought down my rack after I put it through the stick and hung it. I waited until the fish stopped swinging itself as to prevent the rack from collapsing, then when finally it had stopped moving I went back to hunt some more. I was slowly getting used to this, as I managed to catch another one not long after the first. I was feeling good, I went back to catch a third after securing this one onto the rack as well. My feet got used to the cold so getting in and out of the water was not an issue anymore. I started to focus again and aimed my spear towards the countless fish that go past my ankles.
But before I got the chance to try my luck a third time, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. On the opposite side of the creek, near the bank, a giant brown bear was standing and looking down at me. It took me a few seconds to math the situation, so we just kept looking at each other, not one of us moving even an inch. The beast was looking at me dead in the eye. Its two small bead-like eyes attached to its huge round head were ogling me. Its head occasionally moved down and up, as if it was trying to understand what I was. It has probably never seen a human before. Its mouth was half open, the fur around its fangs and its claws were bloody. The blood looked fresh, so I thought he recently ate fish, but it took me no time to realize that that was not the case. It had huge claw marks inflicted on his body. It probably fought another bear to preserve his hunting ground. It looked like a creature straight out of Dante’s inferno. My heart started beating so fast that I could feel the blood making its way through my veins close to my skin. I took a step back and almost tripped, luckily I didn’t fall into the water and got my clothes wet. After regaining my balance, I quickly left the water and stood near my tent to observe the bloody bear more. I was afraid that it might think that I was also a threat to its hunting ground and kill me like it did to another bear, yet it showed no intentions of attacking. Its movement was of a bear that ran out of energy. Maybe its recent fight tired it out and now it doesn’t want to initiate another one with a creature it is seeing for the first time. It made its way into the water with sluggish steps and sat down on a rock below the flowing water. Only its upper body was visible. Then, unexpected to me, it pulled his claws out of the water with a fish in between them. In no time, it caught a fish without even looking into the water. “What a true professional,” I thought to myself, “it takes me my sheer concentration to catch one.” The fish was not wiggling in its paws. Maybe it already killed it underwater? Or perhaps the fish is so stupid that it does not realize the danger it is in? No, bears possess strength unimaginable to men, it probably holds it so tight that the fish can’t even move an inch. Yes, it has to be that.
The bloody bear clung to the fish’s skin with its fangs and pulled it away. The skin on its one side got peeled off perfectly, just like a banana. The fish started to wiggle aggressively after that. Its mouth opened wide and its eyes were screaming in pain. Yet, the bear housed no emotion whatsoever. It just chewed the delicious peel of skin, while the poor fish had no voice to scream its anguish out. The bloody bear lost no time and peeled the other side of the fish. It would have been nicer to kill the fish first before doing all this, but it is a bloody bear, and nature is cruel sometimes.
The fish was left with bright red flesh and was still alive. “How unfortunate can one creature be,” I said to myself. I was mesmerized by the natural flow of nature. It was as if nature was making me watch a scene from her theater. It was utterly interesting, maybe it was too sublime for a corporate man like me. Ah, but, no. It was the same. This is nature’s business.
Although I felt unexplainable fear at the moment, I was fine now. My heart rate slowed down, and just watched the bear until it finished its business. It was like a huge bug invading your room. You know how it just stands still in a corner, and you can’t focus on what you are doing anymore; you constantly have to look over it to see if it will ever move. The feeling I had was pretty much the same. I just couldn’t bring myself to mind my own business, just as how the bloody bear minds its own. My presence means nothing to it. It does not even bother looking at me to see what I’m up to. Even though it encountered a creature like me for the first time in its life, even though it has no idea as to what I am able to do, it bears no curiosity. It just knows that I’m weaker. It just knows. A life that is easy to perish, is not a life worth taking into account for. For it, I’m just there. I’m just existing; nothing more, nothing less. I’m unable to influence anything around me by my physical prowess. And physical prowess is the only valid currency in nature’s business.
The moments passed by unnoticed and night began to fall upon the forest. The bear left the creek and oh I’m so glad that it had gone to the opposite direction. I began to feel how hungry I was when it dawned on me that I did not eat anything after I set my camp here, or one could say my stomach was full with fear until a few seconds ago. It crossed my mind to cook the fish I caught, or open one of the canned vegetables to ease my hunger, but I was also feeling tired so I decided to eat nothing at all and go straight to bed. Yes, it was a clever idea. It was the perfect opportunity to get ahead of my consumption plan, so that I can be a little more generous to myself eating for tomorrow. I left the fishes I caught to dry on the rack and hung my coat on the camp chair. The nights in Alaska are cold, but my sleeping bag was enough to keep me warm until morning. I took my socks off and slid into my sleeping bag. I was so tired, and the night in the forest was pitch black. I didn’t want to be left in the dark if anything was to sneak into my tent, like a bug or a sneak, so I turned my gas lamp on, put its fire a little lower to not attract unwanted attention, and succumbed to sleep. I was so exhausted that my hunger was no hindrance for me to fall asleep almost immediately after I closed my eyes.
#
Almost right beside my ear, the sound of something rubbing against my tent woke me up in the middle of the night. I was merely confused by the fact that it was still dark, even though I opened my eyes from sleep. It occurred to me seconds after that I was forced to wake up. I turned towards the source of the annoying sound while keeping my sleep invaded eyes half shut. After realizing a paw as wide as my head pounding against the thin walls of my tent, my eyes popped in fear; the sleep in them was no more. I could clearly see a bear claw; my tent was transparent enough to allow me that much. I sprung out of my sleeping bag and pushed myself with my bare heels towards the opposite side of the tent; I didn’t even realize I let out a humiliating scream in terror while doing so. The bear was checking if a living creature was inside this oddly shaped object. No, there should be a simpler reason; it was curious as to what this oddly shaped object could be. It didn't even know that I was inside of it, until I screamed my ass out, like a fool.
I must’ve startled the beast, as it roared and smashed my tent as a response to my screech. The impact dispersed everything inside my tent. My gas lamp fell sideways and all of the canned vegetables I stacked near the tent got squashed. A few moments passed, and I started feeling warmth in my right foot. It was bleeding. The pain started to pierce me the moment I noticed I was wounded. Although my back was against the opposite side, my feet were still close to the bear’s. I was a fool. I could never have imagined I would admit my foolishness this quickly in my life. The forces I was never exposed to now impose their intimidation on me. This much power was unimaginable to men. It was just a roar, out of surprise. It was just a swing, out of startlement. Yet they were so dreadful, the vibrations of the force traveled through the thin layers of air and fabric around me into my body, and it was enough to put my spirit down on its knees. The obvious difference in our prowess was disgusting, in a literal sense. I felt like throwing up, but my body and mind were constantly contradicting each other’s instinctual decisions. The body wanted to dispose of everything in my already empty belly, but the brain told me to stay still, stay silent. My whole existence was shaken. My heart was headbutting my ribcage. My whole body was boiling. Everything that has been going on in my body told me to move, told me to do something! But there I was, just sitting down in the middle of my tent, keeping my mouth sealed with both of my hands; like the coward I am.
The second worst thing next to my seeping foot was the tear on my tent. The bear was smart enough to notice the hole in my tent, yet it was not reaching in. It was still scared of the unknown, and was backed away. But it was a matter of time until it craves to learn more. It would sniff, touch, and eventually want to look inside. It will notice the hole and I will be no more.
I was willing to just stand there, silently. Without doing anything. There was a chance that the bear could just leave. Yet, this thought was abandoned soon after I locked my pupils on the overturned gas lamp in the corner. I knew I had to extinguish it before it spread flames to my tent. I started to reach out. But the smallest movement I made caused the beast outside to start orbiting my tent while letting out short bursts of breathy groans. I could only hear it, yet it could probably see my shadow because of the lamp. If my shadow moved, it knew something was alive. I had to conceal my existence, but exist with all my will and courage at the same time to reach out and extinguish that lamp.
I started moving slowly. Slower than snails, slower than plants. Slower. Slower than particles. I must move, but not move at the same time. It took me awfully long. A distance of an arm’s reach, most likely completed in minutes of two digits. I reached, I reached. My hands were on the lamp. I squinted my fingers. It was awfully slow. I squinted, I squinted. I got a hold of my lamp, then I started turning the valve. It was awfully boring. I turned, I turned. It was off. The fire was no more. It was pitch black. The only natural source of light, the moon, was being blocked by the tall spruce waving their countless hands towards us from far, far above. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to turn the lamp completely off. But I prefer both of us being blind. I felt like the darkness posed more disadvantage on the bear than it had on me. Waiting, I focused my whole being into my hearing. I was desperately waiting for the bear to leave. But its stomping sounds were only getting closer. Sound waves were no more the only sensory input I was taking in when I felt my tent tilt towards the side. I felt the bear’s heavy paw stitching the thin sheet of my tent to the soil beneath. Its huge nostrils were inhaling my soul into it. Its twitching nose bulging against my tent’s roof constantly sought me. I couldn’t keep my mouth closed. As, compared to the bear, breathing heavily through my tiny nostrils would make too much noise. I couldn’t see my foot’s condition. How much was I bleeding? Could it smell blood? Could it smell the crushed canned vegetables? When the thought of my canned vegetables appeared in my mind, my hunger from the morning started to crawl out, as if it had been waiting for the perfect moment to make things far worse for me. What if my stomach growls? It will hear it… No doubt, it will hear it. Thinking that I would be much freer to move in darkness, I started to reach out to the spilled vegetables. Still slow, but not as much as before. As I clenched the soggy vegetables off the floor, the gooey sounds slithered through the air. It was harder to eat in complete darkness than I thought. I kept missing my mouth as I spilled the half-liquid food from my palms. The bear was silent, so I kept eating. I licked the sticky vegetable juice from in between my fingers. I could also taste my own blood in there. Probably my foot bled so much that it got mixed with the spilled vegetables on the floor. My head was getting a little clearer, though I doubt this was bliss. As I started to think more rationally, I began to realize how much of an inescapable situation I was in. The things I realized started to fall upon me. Almost like some kind of haggle with Nature. I told her, “Hold on, nights are cold in Alaska,” and she said, “Yes, you are absolutely right,” then sent the coldness forth. I told her, “Hold on, when did I wake up? What time is it?” and she said, “Who knows,” then sent forth the anxiety.
And just like that, as I was grazing over my vegetables, the cold started to pull my tiny hairs. Not knowing how far away I was from the sun rise brought upon my mind an unexplainable pressure. I was shivering. I was hungry. I was sleepy. I was afraid. I was hopeless. The inactivity of the bear, ironically, inflicted more anxiety on me. I was not able to clasp pieces of food from the floor anymore. Partially because of my shivering hands both from fear and cold, but mostly because of my palms that were too big of a spoon to scrape them. “Is that all?” I said to myself, of course, in my head. I moved inside my sleeping bag to warm myself up. I was still tired and hungry, I wanted to fall asleep as is. But the mere thought of that bear still lurking close by shooed away my sleep. It was my instinct as a creature, I could not sleep if a potential predator was around. The brain screws itself over; it knows the bear is gone. It has all the information to support the bear is gone. Yet it is in sensory deprivation. It demands tangible information, not just tied dots. It’s always the what ifs. What if? What if that bear is still around? Even by a small chance, if it was still lurking, sleeping meant death.
I started to think in frustration. What attracted the bear in the first place? Is it the canned vegetables? Is it me? Or is it pure curiosity? It didn’t matter. It was a bear. It was a monster. One playful swing from it meant a serious injury, like that of my leg. There was only one solution, I just needed to wait; a task as simple as that. Time sweeps away everything. Even ferocious beasts. I’ll just not exist, stay still, still like water. And let the time do its thing. The morning cannot be that far away. The bear cannot be interested in me forever. They simply cannot. So I wait. Then I wait. And I wait.
I am but a skin bag, I am one with stillness. I am hollow, I emit no life. There is no resonance between me and the universe. I wait in nothingness. The bear was silent, but I wait. The bear was gone, yet I wait. Turn off all senses, stay away from all senses. Feel nothing, let them feel nothing. Conceal yourself in the encircling sounds of the forest. Conceal yourself in the void. Appeal to no ear, no eye, no mind. You are doing good, just a few hours more. It’s not hard. It’s not hard.
The sun peeped over the horizon hidden behind the trees. Its peer from an endless distance was enough to bring colors back to me, and drive the void away. What a divine thing the sun is. With just a fraction of its heat, we strive. We all owe our perception to it. What a provider, what bliss; truly divine. My eyes teared as I blankly stared at the shapes of my tent. With empty moves, I left my sleeping bag and unzipped my tent with a sluggish impatience. I humped under the entrance and examined my surroundings. The bear was gone. I knew it. It was gone the entire time. The entire time I could not hear it anymore, it was gone. I’m a fool. Nature made a complete and utter fool of me. With an overwhelming feeling of defeat, I looked at my ravaged tools, then I looked down at my foot. Dried up blood and urine formed veins of crimson and gold over my skin. The wound was infected; the skin around my foot appeared purple, and the slightest pressure applied to it gave me a stinging pain. Because of my wet pants, I felt cold on my lower body, so I took my coat over my camp chair and tied it around my waist. I started to pack my belongings to leave the forest as soon as possible. I was dying to eat something good. My hunger was like a vicious spook; it haunted me till the very end.
When finally I packed everything up, the only things left were my makeshift spear and the half-broken rack I built for the fish. The fish… I completely forgot about them. They seem to have vanished.
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