Going Feral Again.

 When folks ask me what it was like to be Homeless by Choice for 6.5 years, I’ll respond “at times it was a feral lifestyle.” If the questionnaire desires more information,  I’’ll give them the down and dirty. 

Going feral is when a shovel creates an instant outhouse. It’s when a gallon of tepid water gurgling from a Solar Shower provides personal hygiene. It’s when the definition of clean clothes are the garments with the least stench. Food options can be Macs and Cheese, or a can of soup or a refried bean burrito. It’s far from glamping or being a Foodie. 

Going feral means being outside the mainstream. Your contact with other Homo Sapiens is at below sea level standards. It’s a lifestyle not for the gregarious or the squeamish. It’s ultimate social distancing. Its my way of dealing with a deadly pathogen. 

To be honest, (remember this is the most honest blog in the world) going feral is not too challenging  for me. When the weather is gentle and cooperates it’s no problemo. I like being “out there.” 

In this winter of Covid discontent, I had two options. 

A) Safely sequester myself in my cozy Durango townhome where I could anxiously wait for my vaccine lottery ticket to be drawn. 

OR

B) Road trip with Sanctuary II (my new truck and camper) to Death Valley National Park. Patience is not a virtue of mine. But then again citizens wouldn’t want a patient firefighter either. “Don’t worry folks, we’ll extinguish your house fire once “Jeopardy” is over.” 

There really weren’t  any options.

I provisioned up with the idea of playing “Keep Away” from winter and Covid for a month. I stocked my camper with two Jeffy requirements. Coffee and IPAs. Oh yeah, food too. Eventually I’d run out of fresh fruits and vegetables. When that time came, I’d double down on my vitamins to stave off scurvy. It’s all fun and games until your teeth fall out. 

Death Valley NP is far, far away from real towns. The closest being PaTrump (SPIT!)  NV. This high desert city’s motto says it all. “More Gun Shops, than Grocery Stores!” It’s a place best to avoid. BUT if you do have to get stuff, run in, run out at the crack of opening times. On those days, I’d drink an extra cup of coffee to ramp up my shopping to “Warp Drive.” If you’d blink you’d miss me, which Is fine by me in PaTrump. That means no one has time to take aim at me.

Postscript: I managed to avoid a trip to the sh-thole of PaTrump (Spit!) NV. I scavenged off the land. Hostess Wheat Bread, eggs and raspberry preserves from the “Family Dollar” Store in Beatty, NV and overpriced tomatoes, apples, oranges, potatoes, onions and salsa from the Furnace Creek General Store. 

My dinners were reminiscent of the Old Time miners except I discarded the cans in an appropriate manner. I never came close to running out of IPAs and coffee. My priorities are spot on.

From the land of rock, gravel and sand all blended into one beautiful National Park. (A perfect place for a minimalist like me.)

Stay safe, sane and healthy,

Jeff

Postscript II: En route back to Durango. Old Buddy Paul L did what I couldn’t do from DVNP. He went online and scored two Covid shots for me. I shoot up on Tuesday! I sound like a junkie but I don’t care. Be part of the solution instead of the problem. Get your vaccines ASAP. Please. 

Remember no one will ever say, “That Pandemic, now those were the days!”