I spent 28.5 years dealing with people every day. Usually in difficult, dangerous, unhappy, emotional, negative circumstances. It has made me cynical, untrusting and uncomfortable in crowds. I hate going to the mall, sporting events, concerts or other venues where there are lots of people. I hunt, fish, and paddle alone 99% of the time. I find that being alone lets me do my thing on my schedule with no other intrusions.
Ditto, except it was 35 years. Mega ditto about crowds; mall (been 20 years and never again if I can help it), sporting events (other than high school football or wresting it’s also been 20 years, and the last time in stadium was in the Governor’s Box), concerts/movies (at least 10 years and the concerts were All-Access badged). I avoid going into the city, 5 days a week for 35 years was enough, and post retirement try to avoid even the busy suburban retail strips.
As far as tripping I am happiest solo. Even on family trips we each spend a lot of time alone. Best trip with a companion was a few years ago, 22 days downriver travelling with one friend on separate permits; we didn’t see each other for one 9 day stretch and may have camped together three times for a week total.
My favorite “group” trips have been with different folks arriving or departing on different days; typically I go in solo a day or two in advance, other folks meet up a few days later and I stay for few days after everyone else has left. That changing dynamic is usually pleasing.
That said in places where there are shared campsites I often enjoy the company of sharing a site with folks unknown. Sort of; I try not to be the one joining an already occupied shared site, but have always welcomed fellow travelers to join me.
I have met some memorable people that way, from the semi-famous to the most absurd of newbies.
My favorite of the latter were two 19 year olds who had hiked into an Assateague backcountry site. I heard them hike in but, out day paddling and exploring, didn’t actually see much of them. Their campsite was comical; ancient canvas wreck for a tent, gear in duffle bags, (empty) gallon milk jugs for portable water, a couple of surf rods thrown haphazardly in the sand.
I finally met them in camp a couple days in, chatted them up briefly and told them to stop by my site if they wanted a better map. They stopped by that evening while hiking out and I got to hear their story.
College freshmen on a freshman budget, they had figured out that they could camp multiple days on Assateague for a single $5 fee. They did not own backpacks and had hauled all of their gear in using single strap duffel bags, but they were hale and hearty and full of life.
I gave them a map and one of them dang near started drooling when he saw me fetch a beer, so I grabbed a couple more and heard their full story.
One of them had made two trips hiking along the beachfront to haul it all to camp; in, out, back in, a 15 mile hike in sand.
They were out of water. They were, and had been, out of food; the surf rods had proved too fouled to use and their plan to catch fish hadn’t worked out.
I mentioned that the abundant mussels on the bayside banks were easy and tasty, and they were back in 20 minutes with a bucket full to rinse and steam open.
Them boys looked hungry and I had some unused foodstuffs; a can of clam chowder, a can of small potatoes, can of corn. Dumped all of that in a pot over the fire with fresh steamed clams and they cleaned it out. I had some too, it was good.
We had beer with dinner. We had a beer or three around the campfire, and a flask of single barrel may have made an appearance.
Some ways well past midnight they decided, in a rare moment of logic, if not sobriety, that they ought to start hiking out as they had class the next day and I filled one of their empty milk jugs with water for their hike out along the beachfront. I made sure that they knew to turn left when reached the oceanfront on the hike out.
I ended up paddling out a day early when my food and water supplies began to run low, but I wouldn’t have traded an extra day in paradise for that evening spent with a couple of adventurous lads.
Skwid, dang, a 20 day self-supported solo down the Grand Canyon sounds challenging. I can understand why those who do not understand have questions.
Most solo boat GC trips I heard or read about are in groups, often with raft support. They at least have a boat carried forward on the flats, resembling the backs of rowers, gripping their oars as if they were sure of the way to their destination. (touché, and prologue back to Uncle Skwid)
I hope there will come a trip report, which I am itching to read, about the solo challenge and also about the riverfolk met along the way.
