Month: April 2017

I went on a bike/stealth/hammock camping trip two weeks ago.

I really, really enjoyed it. In fact, I was so happy that I later found myself trying to figure out why I’d had such a good time. It wasn’t just the fantastic sunset and the nature in bloom and the coziness of reading in my hammock and the unanticipated geology of the area. I experienced true enjoyment because of the following:

Partly it was the satisfaction of finally getting good at this shit. The night had a low of 35 degF but I was comfy and secure with my reliable gear and my readiness for anything. Partly it was the freedom I felt when selecting my spot, enjoying the unexpected beauty of the location and exploring new areas by bike in the morning on my way home. Partly it was the satisfaction I felt when putting my gear together, using my head to meet a challenge instead of using money, gasoline and excess stuff.

But the biggest part of my enjoyment of this little trip came from acting in accordance with some great ideas from a book I had just read: “How I Found Freedom in an Unfree World,” by Harry Browne.

The book is about finding freedom in your life in every way you can. It is sprinkled with anti-tax ideology but the substance of it is much deeper. It reinforced some of my views on living according to a personal morality. For example, when it comes to stealth camping, am I alarming people nearby or disturbing wildlife? I would argue the opposite and point to the gasoline required to get to a state park, the compacted campsites and greasy, trash-strewn fire rings.

Is it wrong to camp somewhere where the government does not sanction it? I would argue it is wrong to ban such an activity when it is the effects of overly impactful activities that are actually the target of the ban. I am willing to ignore the rules in order to do it a better way, with the willingness to accept the consequences.

When I consider what makes me feel like I’m truly exploring, I’d say swiftly cruising in by bike, setting up my hammock at dusk, and being gone before the sun rises gives me a much freer feeling than hiking the prescribed, eroded loops of a state park and dodging large, poorly behaved off-leash dogs and picking up other people’s trash.

And when I consider future-proofing the things I love, I can think of no better protection against rate hikes, under-investment in natural areas, government shutdowns, and general incompetence and mismanagement than to be able to bike to my own spot and camp my own way, without bothering with permits, stickers, and other intrusions (I was astonished when I learned I was required to provide my social security number – to the gas station vendor – to get a fishing license in Minnesota).

Another, unexpected concept in the book is that you don’t need to change others in order to be free. I don’t need to be concerned with state park campers who destroy nearby trees for firewood, allow their dogs to run amok, or leave their trash behind. I won’t be around to even see them!

I’m going to revisit the book, perhaps a year or two from now. In the meantime, I’m planning more bikepacking trips and identifying more boxes and traps to free myself from.

I watched Lumumba (2000 film) recently. I had been searching for this film and then one day it popped up in my streaming service randomly.

I have been fascinated with the Congo ever since reading about the ebola virus during the outbreak of 1995, when the country was called Zaire. This coincided with the films Congo and Outbreak of the same year, which made a vivid impression on my nine-year old brain.

The movie portrays an intense period of history in the Democratic Republic of Congo just after independence from Belgium when a former postal worker rose to become the first democratically elected prime minister of Congo. He was soon killed by factious political rivals with the help of the Belgians. His buried body was then dug up, moved, dismembered and burned. As the narrator (the dead Lumumba) says, he was a threat to them even in death.

Joseph-Désiré Mobutu is a looming presence in the film and the final scene foreshadows the horrors he would later wreak as dictator. Sadly, now another strongman (Kabila the junior) is consolidating power and suppressing political opposition.

It’s very difficult to watch the violence in the film because it is not just a snapshot of the past. Gruesome violence and unrest continue in DRC, most recently in the Kasai region. Now, our closest relatives the chimps and gorillas are being butchered too, due to conflicts they didn’t start.

I would recommend the movie. For anyone else with an interest in the Congo, soak up any of the following:

• Dancing in the Glory of Monsters by Stearns (highly recommended)

• The Poisonwood Bible by Kingsolver

• The Hot Zone by Preston

• Blood River by Butcher

• Heart of Darkness by Conrad (highly recommended)

• RFI’s great coverage at http://www.rfi.fr/afrique/tag/rdc/

I still have not read King Leopold’s Ghost but that comes recommended. There are numerous other chronicles and analyses of the country out there, in English and French.

I wish I could visit someday. I want to follow the river and see the gorillas and not just stay in relatively peaceful Kinshasa. Maybe 25 years from now I could try…

UPDATE 7/4/17: I cannot believe I forgot this one: check out the documentary “When We Were Kings” about the Rumble in the Jungle.

I got rid of my cross-country skis, boots and poles. It was not easy to do, but it was something I had thought of for a long time before finally acting. Although I enjoy decluttering, I would never have made this particular dump without the boost that came from reading “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo on my Kindle (another device that has helped me shed unwanted stuff).

In favor of throwing out the ski gear was:

• The little use I had gotten out of them each year due to poor snow and just not feeling like skiing

• The ever-increasing price of ski passes, and the multiple organizations that you must buy passes from

• The way I had dragged them from apartment to apartment during moves and how they were the among most unwieldy items I owned

In favor of keeping the ski gear was:

• Fond memories of skiing in Theodore Wirth, Hyland, the north shore of Lake Superior, Fort Snelling State Park, Hiawatha, and Elm Creek Park Reserve

• The idea that I was giving up on something I had identified with and aspired to

That last one was the most powerful. I thought skate skiing represented me overcoming my antipathy for the cold and dark winters where other people stay indoors. I thought that me gliding along snowy trails under moonlight was the very image of joy and élan in the face of the dreaded winter. I thought it was something I should enjoy, master, and crave.

The book helped me identify that this aspiration led to a misguided attachment based on something I thought I should be.

So I sold the things! In the possession of the enthusiastic Craigslist buyer (who turned out to be an acquaintance), the skis, boots and poles are no longer junk. I no longer have a burden in my closet and a sense that I am not doing something I should be doing. I received a wad of cash and the buyer now has a fun activity to do with his avid skier girlfriend. And I have plenty of other winter activities to engage me.