Peniel - Day 1...5 am

It’s 5 am, November 6, 2009. I just failed miserably to start a fire, and the damp air, cold in my lungs, is making it sound like a whistle-pop is lodged in my throat. About an hour before sunrise it’s bright as day outside with the few-days-past-full moon sitting directly overhead in the clear sky. It’s like a vampire’s version of high noon, except the night is almost over.

Technically day three, I am tempted to cal it day one. The real day one I started too late. I should have left earlier, but I had a few more supplies to buy, and I wanted to see Jan. It wouldn’t have been right for me to leave without seeing her first when I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. We didn’t talk about the things we are going to have to talk about soon.

By the time all my supplies were gathered and I’d spent a few hours scouting out a good camp location, it was well past dark. I couldn’t set up the tent without being able to see what I was doing. So, I snuck home and crashed on the couch. Guess I’m not a candidate for Survivor after all.

I felt so tempted to turn on my phone, but no, that wouldn’t do. My period of isolation with God had begun. Besides the main reason I wanted it was to call or text Emily. Not a good idea. But I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I really don’t like the way I left things, and I wish I knew how badly I hurt her. She’s going through enough right now, and all I did was make it worse, harder for her. Some friend.

A guy I new from a group I’m in showed up about 12:30 am, banging on my door. I refused him entry, so we talked on the porch for a few minutes. He walked over to my house, drunk, looking to score some Vicodin, or weed. Took forever to convince him I didn’t have anything (I guess he doubts my sobriety) and longer that I had no one I could call to score through. He left upset, and I returned to my couch to sleep.

Awoke day two - still in my trailer, and drove back to the place I am camping. Took me a few hours to set up the tent, even in the daylight. It took over an hour to clear out the space with a machete. Then came the multiple treks back and forth to the van to hike in supplies. My knee slowed me down quite a bit. By mid-afternoon I had all but the last load carried in, Resting my knee, I caved to the urges I’d had all day, since the night before truthfully, and turned on my phone. Not much of a signal here, but I have one. Nice to know in case I get in trouble.

Messages flooded in. Seems I’ve worried some folks. I feel bad about that, but I need to do this. It would also appear that few of the people I sent my blog URL are reading it. That’s OK, but I had counted on my last entry letting people know what I was doing so that I wouldn’t worry everyone.

I called Jan and left her a message to lock my door when she carries some of my property from Center to my house. The pill-head stopping by spooked me some. I also texted Dixie and Nichole. Nichole has become a dear friend to me, and I feel bad I didn’t let her know what was going on.

Dad came by later to check on me. He showed me this place, so he could find it, and I thought it would be wise to have at least one person know where I’m at. And since I really don’t want him to ever have to find my body again, like he did after my October 27, 1999 attempt, him being the only one who knows where I’m at will insure I hold off as long as possible on that option. We went fishing, my first time since before prison. Neither of us caught anything, but it was nice. I enjoyed the time tremendously.

After returning to camp empty handed, he took me in his truck to gather fire wood from the sides of the road leading to the edge of the area I’m in. I now have enough wood to last me a while, without doing much damage to my knee to get it. The downside? He got stuck. Took a while to get him out, but it was so cool. He tied a log to each of the rear tires and drove up on them. A few feet at a time, we walked the truck to solid, or closer to it, ground.

I cooked us dinner, a salmon, clam and shrimp spread he seemed to enjoy. We both ate too much. I walked him out to his truck. By this time it was nearly 9 pm, and the moon was big over the eastern horizon. Beautiful. The spot he’d left his truck provided the best view around. I told him it was worth the walk just to see the view.

He said he hoped he didn’t interrupt what I needed to do too much, and I assured him it had been good to spend the evening with him. He hugged me and drove away. I stayed there a while longer, staring up at the moon, fighting tears. My father loves me so much. I wish to God I knew why.

After a while I hiked back to camp. It wasn’t cold, so I let the fire Dad built die down. I fought the urge to hike back out where I could get signal and try to call Emily. I really wish I had left things better there. For the next hour or so I watched the fire slowly turn to glowing embers and waited for my knee to stop throbbing. Then I stripped, zipped up my tent, climbed into my sleeping bag, and tried to sleep.

Thus ended day two with absolutely no progress made toward why I came out here in the first place. I slept. The beat of the nearby oil well lulling me like a Shaman’s drum. I woke, cold. But the cold didn’t bother me as much as the damp air. Everything is wet. I tried to build a fire and failed. I lit the lantern and, fully dressed now, began to write this. The sun will soon rise on day three, but it’s easy to see that today is day one. My quest is just begun. I think I’ll slip back inside my sleeping bag and hope to get some sleep without the bizarre dreams that filled my slumber last night. When I wake, I will begin in earnest…day one.