My First Solo Outing – August 2016
Things got slow after my youngest son turned 16. I had been active in scouts with all four of my boys, all Eagle Scouts, camping and going on adventures with their troops for years. Family outings were getting fewer and farther between, with the oldest two out of the house and the younger two less interested in camping with mom. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to get out more often, and I wondered what it would be like to go solo.
In early 2016 I happened across the book, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail, by Cheryl Strayed, and of course that changed everything. If she could do that, I could certainly get out alone for a weekend. And so I did.
I picked the Big Buffalo Creek Conservation Area in Benton County, Missouri as my first destination. It was only about an hour from home, with lots of short trails. It didn’t look like I would be able to get lost. The area brochure mentioned three springs, old growth trees, the rare bushy aster and grass pink orchid, the endangered Hines Emerald dragonfly, a 40-acre fen, and dogwoods. I love dogwood trees, even when they’re not in bloom. Sounded perfect.
I pulled into the parking area for the established campsites well before dark on a Friday night, seeing only one other car and no other people. The camping area was on the road that bordered the conservation area, so right across the road was private property. There was only one house, but it was in full view of the camping area, with men outside drinking beer. I was suddenly terrified. Would they see that I was alone? Where were the people from the car? Were they staying? I tucked my car as well as I could into the only campsite protected by trees from view of the house, and sat there trying to decide whether to stay.
Soon I saw an older couple emerging from one of the trails and heading for their car. They got in and left, obviously locals just out for a stroll through the woods. When they were gone, I got out of my car and went ahead and set up my tent, telling myself I was just being silly. The Conservation Agent I had spoken to when planning the trip said it was a great place to camp, and he knew I was coming alone. Should have no problems there, he had said.
I settled down to cook my dinner and build a fire, enjoying the total silence except for the birds and then the owls as it grew dark. Solitude. As a mom of four boys, I’m not sure I had ever really experienced it before, at least not in nearly 30 years. I was hooked.
I slept surprisingly well and awoke to a beautiful morning. Two cups of instant coffee and a Mountain House breakfast later, I was ready to head out to find those rare grass pink orchids.
The main trail through Big Buffalo Creek Conservation Area is a 6-mile loop rated moderate by All Trails. Rocks and roots on the trail, along with a steep ascent the first mile probably earned it that rating, but I would rate it definitely on the easy side of moderate. The main loop is not well marked until you come to a fork for a trail off to a lake, and there are several forks before that point, some unmapped, that just spur off and then end. I took one of these, thinking I was at the trail to the lake, and it was on the way back to the main trail that I had my biggest adventure of the weekend.
Sun shining, fall flowers beginning to bloom, it was a gorgeous day for a hike. The spur trail was wide, with lots of leaf litter and brush forming the boundaries with the woods on each side. There it was, ahead and to the left: a single stalk with a single small pink flower. I walked faster toward it and glanced down at my feet as I neared the trees. “Oh! There’s a snake!” I nearly said aloud as I froze in my tracks. I stared at the snake, tail coiled in the leaf litter with its head not visible as it stretched out into the leaves and brush. It was a big snake. Then I noticed its tail in the center of its coil. It was a timber rattlesnake. And the toe of my boot was less than 3 inches from its thick, outstretched body.
The snake did not move, although I could see the rise and fall of her breath. While she probably could not see me through the leaves, I am certain she felt my approach. She probably hoped she was well enough hidden that I could not see her.
Curiously, I did not feel afraid. I knew as long as I stayed frozen, nothing was going to happen. It would have happened already. I held my breath and slowly backed away. The snake didn’t move. I guessed the part of the snake I could see was at least five feet long, and her head probably wasn’t far under the leaves, so maybe six feet? I decided I was out of striking range. Then, of course, I turned back and snapped a quick picture. It was all so incredible, I knew the story would be better with a picture.
I completely forgot about the pink flower and didn’t even get a close look. I discovered later that it could not have been the orchid though, as they bloom much earlier in the year. I should have been looking for the rare bushy aster instead.
I finished my hike up to the lake, where I saw many green dragonflies, none of them the Hines Emerald. It was a beautiful lake, with a father and son, who must have passed by on the main trail while I was on the spur with the rattlesnake, enjoying a day of fishing. I traveled from there through more forest and savannah areas, down the steep grade on the eastern side of the loop and through the 40-acre fen. Acres of spring-fed marsh, dominated by sedges and ferns, make it a great home for many bird species. I saw several Great Blue Herons and two Great Egrets.
Leaving the fen, the trail joins Big Buffalo Road and takes you back to the campsites. I was surprised to see a young couple had set up a tent a few yards away and were just returning as well, from the west. I enjoyed another evening of solitude, however, as they kept to themselves. I felt empowered by the day’s adventures, knowing I could do this again. I tested another Mountain House freeze-dried meal for dinner, in anticipation of the many backpacking trips I intended to plan, and began listing gear I would need.
In spite of my new found confidence, I did not sleep as well that night. The coyotes woke me, and then I began hearing strange noises in the tree branches above and around my tent. Tired as I was, I eventually drifted off, unaware that the morning would bring yet another strange adventure.
I awoke at the crack of dawn to even stranger noises around my tent. I could not conceive of what it might be, but there was obviously something right outside my tent. I waited and listened to try and figure it out. Loud “thump-thump-thump’s” accompanied by whooshings of air, over and over again, like someone was unsuccessfully trying to start a fan boat. But this was right outside my tent. I finally got up the nerve to peek outside.
Turkeys! Dozens of them, coming down out of the trees and landing on the ground near my tent. There were at least 15 I could count on the side I was looking out of, more on the other, and more coming down. It was a sight to behold. I started laughing out loud, relieved at the explanation for the invasion.
My gear list has changed so much since I first began camping, mainly because I have been able to acquire many nice pieces over the years. My food list has definitely changed, mainly because others have shared recipes and ideas. So I have no advice to you in those areas from this first solo experience. The advice I do have is to Just Get Started! Just make a plan and go! Yes, there will be scary moments, but it’s so worth it.