the call of adventure | Bertram's Blog

The Last Few Days of a Settled Life

April 16, 2015 — Pat Bertram

Such a strange transitional state, these last few days of a settled life. I’m at my computer, perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, which is the only table-like surface in this empty house. (I’ve never quite got the laptop aspect of a laptop computer. Too much heat on my legs, and too hard to type.) Because of the uncomfortable stool, I have to get up every few minutes to stretch, which makes it hard to think. It’s a good thing, then, that I have nothing to think at the moment.

I had lunch with a friend this afternoon, who half-jokingly told me I could stay at her house when she took a trip, and as soon as I accepted, the joking tone disappeared. She’s delighted to have someone stay there when she’s gone. An empty house is an unstable house. What if a pipe breaks? What if the plants die? Well now she doesn’t have to worry. (Unless, of course, the plants commit hari-kari to get away from my black thumb and what they might see as a tortured death.) The dates are unspecified as of yet, but it will be good to have a pla angel ce to alight for a couple of weeks.

Someone else told me about a “trail angel” job opening up. The usual trail angel (someone who helps those who walk the long-distance national trails) can’t do it this year, and he is looking for an angel to fill in. I don’t suppose I could be called an angel under any circumstances, but what an interesting experience for a writer — a completely different point of view about thru-hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. I can’t commit to the whole time (because of the afore-mentioned house-sitting situation) but maybe he’d be willing to let me do just a few weeks.

A nomadic life, at least for now, seems way more exciting than simply renting a room or even an apartment. Every week or two, circumstances would change, and perhaps new choices and challenges would present themselves, including teaching myself the rudiments of camping and backpacking. (There are all sorts of programs and books available, but only I know the circumstances of my needs, and in the end, everyone has to hike their own hike.)

The same friend (the one I had lunch with today) told me I was so very brave to go camping by myself, and I had to remind her that I am still all talk. I have yet to step into a tent or climb into a hammock, though I did sleep on the floor last night because I felt too lazy to drag the old mattress from the garage (where it had been stored) to the bedroom. Besides, sleeping on the ground will be good practice, though the half-dozen or so pillows I used to prop myself up probably defeated the purpose. Maybe a hammock would be better than a tent, but how does one hang a hammock in the Redwood Forest?

So many things to learn! So many places to go, trails to walk, parks to visit. And dances to dance. (The good thing about housesitting for my friend is that I would be able to take classes again!)

All of those things are still just words on paper, but someday . . . someday . . . the tug of adventure will call me beyond words to the reality.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

Posted in being me, life. Tags: a nomadic life, camping, housesitting, Pacific Crest Trail, Redwood Forest, the call of adventure, trail angel. Leave a Comment »

Life Is An Epic Adventure

March 16, 2014 — Pat Bertram

Recently I’ve been thinking and blogging about my need for an adventure, such as walking up the Pacific coast, thru-hiking a national trail, or visiting all the national parks. Something life changing. Something truly epic.

I’ve never been a particularly adventuresome sort, but the waning of grief over the death of mate/soul mate has left me with a vast restlessness and a desire for expanding my boundaries, both personally and geographically. From the beginning (the beginning of my grief, that is), I’ve been determined not to waste his death, and somehow settling down somewhere and living a tame life seems a waste. I want to explore the wild woman within, find out what she is capable of, live a bolder life than I’ve always lived. (Well, bolder within certain parameters. I certainly have no interest in bold pursuits such as skydiving or jet skiing. Walking, one foot always solidly on the ground, is more my style.)

I don’t know if I will ever be able to follow the call of adventure — responsibilities and physical capabilities could be a deterrent. But the truth is, life itself is an adventure of epic proportions. From the moment we are born, we grow and learn, always trying to expand our reach. We love and hate, laugh and cry, connect with others and disconnect, dance, tell stories, wish upon a star, dream of things that never were. Some people have families and children that bring them sorrow and joy. Some people have wonderful careers that sustain them. Some people have otherworldly experiences that that comfort, challenge, terrify. Some people are lucky enough to fall deeply in love, and sometimes those same people fall deeply into grief. Such epic experiences!

Although I dream of a separate epic adventure within the adventure of life itself, I do try to see the epicness of each day and experience whatever life brings me. Sometimes I find myself in the mountains, in the desert, or by the coast. Sometimes I find myself offering support or accepting comfort. Sometimes I find myself at lunch with friends — and what a privilege that is! It’s amazing how the turns of life often bring people from all over the world to a single place for a while and then with another turn, disperses them.

I suppose even sitting here writing this is an epic adventure. The internet, which burst into life a mere 25 years ago, connects people in a way that even the vicissitudes of life haven’t managed. Break Time, the steampunk the anthology I’m putting together with authors from New Zealand, Australia, Canada, USA, could only be the product of the internet with all of us coming together (without ever meeting) for such a fascinating project.

Still, even though writing might satisfy some folks’ idea of adventure, right now the sun beckons me. I think I’ll go out for a walk and experience the epicness of life first hand.

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