I like camping in the Turtle Mountains. Seriously. However, there is some weird stuff around here. The first weirdness presents itself as I hook up Half Moon to the electric box at my campsite.I splurge on electricity because I do not expect enough open sky to run the solar panel. As I reached over to plug in, I notice my face is next to a lanky shrub that seems to have globs of poo on the branches. Yuck. Who would do such a thing? Later I google fungus that looks like poo and learn that the tree is infected with Black Knot Disease. Apparently the disease affects any tree in the cherry group (Prunus), including plums, choke cherries, and pin cherries. Pruning slows its spread, and an infected tree or shrub can exist for many years after infection. It is not an awful fungus, except when I am eating a fat, hot pancake for breakfast and gazing out the window on a tree full of poo fungus.
And while I am complaining, I will tell you that the air is humid here. My strategy for humid places is to take several showers a day, including one just before bed to wash away all the sweat. However, I am disgusted by the water that comes out of the pump at my campsite and from the shower. When I push the pump handle or turn on the shower, a heavy, rusty odor shoots forth. No way I will drink it. A shower works, though.
Mosquitos make me grumpy too. Usually I scratch the bites until they bleed but I am trying sooooo hard not to scratch this year. It feels so good but I know I must break this bad habit. I use an anti-itch cream and am winning the battle.
Not sure at this moment if I like or dislike the rain. So far, I have experienced brief but intense bursts of rain.The open area in my campsite dries quickly, but the narrow trails that wind through dense woodlands stay soaked. Water was standing on the trail, and I had to make several forays through mud. I brushed soaked leaves as I mushed on, leaving my arms and shirt drenched after the first hike. I missed the several spider webs woven across the trail until they slapped against my face.
I begin to feel a super grouchy spell coming on, then remember the lovely weather. The 75 degree days and 55 degree nights are perfect. I don’t even need to turn the electric blanket on high. I secretly slipped this luxury into the camper since I knew I would have electricity. Not too hot, not too cold, though.
For some reason, on this trip I decide to make up categories for cold. Here is my system, based on my first winter experiences in ND:
- Chilly – below 50 F
- Cold- below 40 F
- Cold, Cold – below freezing
- Cold, Cold, Cold – below zero F
- Bitter, Cold- below minus 20 F
- Bitter, Bitter, Cold, Cold – below minus 40 F
- Bitter, Bitter, Bitter, Cold, Cold, Cold – below minus 50 F
Before this trip, my camping experiences in North Dakota have been cold, cold at night. I don’t mind cold, cold camping—I get to wear all my cozy fleece gear and wool socks. The nice litter heater in Half Moon takes off the chill. So, I remember to be thankful for perfect Turtle Mountain weather and the perfect turtle hosts who greet us each evening. The hiking trails are gentle and the birds plentiful. Besides, I have the comforts that make any place home: Bisquick, computer, Kindles and an ample selection of shoes.
Shoes? I never intend to over pack shoes when camping, and I am trying to be more reasonable. This year I have 8 pairs in the camper, while last year I had 10 plus pairs. You might think I am improving but I will confess that inside the van I have four more pairs that I used for minister meetings earlier in the trip . Anyway, I know this is horribly shallow, but my shoes bring comfort and make me feel at home and safe—shoes and backups for every scenario are important when camping, especially in wet areas. No?
Shoes in the camper, including two pairs of water shoes (pink and blue)
Dressy tennies and work shoes hidden in the van
Even with all the shoes and an extra large box of Bisquick, I miss Wyoming for the first time. Is it the unfamiliar humidity, poop fungus, spider webs, mosquitos, and wet trails? Oops, I am not going to compare this spot with my old haunts and travels. I vow to love a cold wet climate and all it offers.
That is not me, of course (no shoes), but the open areas were covered with dandelions…another weirdness
