You needn't have too scary of a misadventure outdoors to develop a sudden interest in the "wilderness survival" genre. It's an interesting sub-cult. These books emphasize how deceptively dangerous it is to go out for a sunset walk in the desert, alone. "But it's just a nice stroll," the victim says, "to take some pretty sunset pictures." What happens to somebody who twists an ankle or runs out of light and gets lost when the sun goes down in the winter desert and the temperature plummets?
In contrast, the morning misadventurer has all day to get rescued by a motorized or foot-powered passer-by. We should all be as lucky as some people, who have a trail-chewing spouse to share their outings with. Those who go adventuring with dogs should not be so naive as to think that Lassie will really run back to get help when that blockhead Timmy (once again) falls into a well.
In reality the dog will just be one more worry, as I found out the only time I really got into danger on a mountain bike ride, on a slope above St. George, UT. Suffice it to say that the biggest causes of that near-fiasco were starting atypically late in the day and attempting an unfamiliar loop route instead of my typical out-and-back. After that I banned serious outings late in the day.
And that is why something really clicked when I read that evil post (grin), praising sunset outings at the expense of morning outings: the only way to really defeat the Early Bedtime Syndrome was to rescind the ban on outings at sunset. More than anything else, this cursed Syndrome stands in the way of making the RV boondocking lifestyle better than it already is. Of course a person must be flexible with other things such as showering time, house cleaning, evening meals, etc.
How can you have it both ways? How can you get the psychological and physiological boost that keeps you happy in the evenings, rather than grouchy or already in bed, without paying an inordinate price in personal safety?
The trick is to distinguish a routine from an adventure, at sunset. Exercise and observe, but don't explore or discover. Use a familiar route; let it be along a dirt road that has an occasional passerby; and avoid loop routes, new routes, or solitary trails away from the cellphone signal. (My gosh, I never noticed until I edited this post that "routine" and "route" have the same etymology.)
This is an important new phase in my lifestyle and I'm so glad my little poodle is still around to be a part of it. And wouldn't you know it, sunset is his favorite time of the day to be active. He helps in practical terms too, since his trailer is a good place for emergency supplies:
Maybe this solution seems obvious to the reader. It's easy to start off in the right frame of mind, but complacency and overconfidence grow as endorphins flow. Also a liberated lifestyle resists the degradation of routines. Fresh adventure has become an integral part of its self-identity. But in this particular case of sunset outings, routines should be tolerated for the sake of safety, in order to reap significant benefits.
In contrast, the morning misadventurer has all day to get rescued by a motorized or foot-powered passer-by. We should all be as lucky as some people, who have a trail-chewing spouse to share their outings with. Those who go adventuring with dogs should not be so naive as to think that Lassie will really run back to get help when that blockhead Timmy (once again) falls into a well.
In reality the dog will just be one more worry, as I found out the only time I really got into danger on a mountain bike ride, on a slope above St. George, UT. Suffice it to say that the biggest causes of that near-fiasco were starting atypically late in the day and attempting an unfamiliar loop route instead of my typical out-and-back. After that I banned serious outings late in the day.
And that is why something really clicked when I read that evil post (grin), praising sunset outings at the expense of morning outings: the only way to really defeat the Early Bedtime Syndrome was to rescind the ban on outings at sunset. More than anything else, this cursed Syndrome stands in the way of making the RV boondocking lifestyle better than it already is. Of course a person must be flexible with other things such as showering time, house cleaning, evening meals, etc.
How can you have it both ways? How can you get the psychological and physiological boost that keeps you happy in the evenings, rather than grouchy or already in bed, without paying an inordinate price in personal safety?
The trick is to distinguish a routine from an adventure, at sunset. Exercise and observe, but don't explore or discover. Use a familiar route; let it be along a dirt road that has an occasional passerby; and avoid loop routes, new routes, or solitary trails away from the cellphone signal. (My gosh, I never noticed until I edited this post that "routine" and "route" have the same etymology.)
This is an important new phase in my lifestyle and I'm so glad my little poodle is still around to be a part of it. And wouldn't you know it, sunset is his favorite time of the day to be active. He helps in practical terms too, since his trailer is a good place for emergency supplies:
Maybe this solution seems obvious to the reader. It's easy to start off in the right frame of mind, but complacency and overconfidence grow as endorphins flow. Also a liberated lifestyle resists the degradation of routines. Fresh adventure has become an integral part of its self-identity. But in this particular case of sunset outings, routines should be tolerated for the sake of safety, in order to reap significant benefits.
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