Sunday, May 3, 2015

Dash Deringer - solitary nature boy



I never know when the urge to wander will come upon me... the need to travel and explore, to find new places, new people, new experiences... to learn... to grow... to just escape from the world tumbling into chaos and center myself... as I have said before - the world drains me of positive energy...  I think the reason why all the do-gooders in this world are such a miserable bunch is because they know that they have been sold a pile of bullshit - and they fell for the con... and they just wont be happy until the rest of us are as miserable as they are... seriously... know any of them that aren’t on prescribes medication... or self medicated - drugs, liqueur... they are angry miserable, ugly people... and they help to drain me... yes... even though I don’t give a fuck about much in this world these days... the world manages to drain me... it is a shame - because it really is a nice world... but it’s filled with idiots... but thankfully - there are mountains and valleys and forests and beaches and the sea... where idiots do not go...

And that is where I go to shake the foul stench of political correctness off me and cleanse my soul... in the places where men belong...   

I pull on my boots and sling my ruck sack over my shoulder... my provisions are really quite simple - rope, various types of chord, carabiners, a couple of good knives - a multi-tool in my pocket, my first aid kit, a fire kit, containers of water and a bag or a container of food - usually sausages, nuts, rice - or noodles, some tortillas, I always carry pumpkin seed and hard candy and of course snickers chocolate bars... I don’t care much for energy bars - snickers is basically the same thing... and also my cook kit... in my bag I also always have a zip lock bag with powdered drink mixes - coffee, tea, sugar, energy drink powders... my cook kit is mostly to cook noddles and make coffee... my bag also holds my sketch book and inks and pencils... whatever book I am taking to read - for I have climbed mountains and trekked across valleys simply just to set up camp to read and draw... far away from the civilized world... I might take a small radio or an mp3 player - but mostly not... I grab a walking stick as I walk out the door - also works as a weapon and to help prop up my tarp... and I’m off like Bilbo  Baggins in search of the adventure he let slip away as a young boy...
Man with Knapsack
Winslow Homer

Depending on where I am  - the country or state - what kind of trekking I will be doing... I may hike up a mountain - always straying from the path, of course... I am not much of a climber... but I love walking up hills... around them... looking for ways through them... caves and dens and  hidden coves... I’ve found water springs and rock fortresses, nests of eagles and lost sheep... I have come across a she bear and her cubs - at a distance, and rams knocking horns... through a lense... I once came across a group of young Indians with painted faces up a mountain - they were not at all happy to see me... and they did not have to say a word for me to know that I was not welcome there and that it would be best that I find another peak to rest on... yeah... I got the hill out of there... I once found a cave that just kept going and had I had enough provisions I would have followed it as far as I could... I have often found myself run out of food and water - many times I just don’t care to think things through and find that I am walking to see how far I can go without giving a second thought to how long it will take me to get back - about as long as it took me to get there - I suppose... but I don’t worry about the provisions... the adventure is always not knowing what is going to happen... but... it is always an opportunity to practice my skills and to try out new things... but always learning - what do I need to work on, how much can I endure... how far can I go... I always carry a note book and pens so I write down my thoughts, ideas, maps, how much water I drink... how much food I eat.. But when I loose myself in the journey I sometimes forget to keep track of my supplies... and just keep on trekking...

In the mountains I pick up rocks that catch my eye... and take them for myself as I make my way up to the clouds... rubbing a certain stone that is rough in my palm or smooth between my fingers... I have a collection of stones of many shapes and sizes and textures and patterns... I have found arrowheads and fossils and silver... yeah... silver... coins in a sack stuffed into a tin can... it wasn’t even hidden... finders keepers - I say... I once found an envelope filled with hundred dollar bills when I was a waiter... must have been a t least forty to fifty thousand dollars in it... I was a good Samaritan and turned it in to my manager... when the couple that left the money behind came looking for it  - I got no thank you and I got no reward for being a good man... this time... on that lonely mountain... that bag of silver was for me...

I get to the top of the hill or the mountain and breathe... slow and deep... until my clustered mind is calm... my savage soul is at ease... my restless, and ragged heart has found its rhythm... and I talk to God... and the answer is always the same... “The Golden Rule my son... The Golden Rule...  but sometimes... I understand... you have to push back...”  - so God has spoken...

I wander in to the woods and loose myself in ancient dreams... lost in forests that were old when the world was young... I listen for the echoes of dragons and nymphs and solitary angels... resting on branches... and dreaming the dreams angels dream... I’ve chased foxes and wild geese and butterflies round country roads that lead into forgotten lakes and valleys that are best left forgotten... but the visions of them linger... in these scrambled memories... I go into the woods and touch everything... the grass... tree branches, the leaves, flowers and weeds... I dig my fingers into the soil and squeeze the earth... I smell the ground... the bark... the scents in the breeze... I light a fire and draw the smoke to me with my hands the way eastern Monks and Indians do... toward my head for peace of mind and to my heart for understanding... I dance around the fire for rain and good fortune... I give thanks to my creator for the wealth and the health and my friendships and family... I dance around the fire and chant the chant that God has given me... and fall to the ground... pushed down by my master’s finger... pleased at his servants ritual thanks giving... I paint my face with the ash and fashion a spear... and hunt... for my dinner...

I have spent days in the woods alone with my journal and colors... never venturing from my camp... just there alone surrounded by the stillness of nature... cradled by her... and sung to sleep by her... shielded and protected by her... until it is time to return to the concrete and steel... the smog and gas... the fumes of the petrol.. and the insanity of the fucking do gooder... I am not a tree hugging save the wales type... I don’t belong to any organization that collects money and preaches about saving the trees and the little birdies... because... do you really fucking need some one to tell you to respect the only world we have? - exactly... nature is going to do what nature is going to do - it has cycles... it has its own seasons... and every once in a while it too has to shake the foul stench of political correctness from her... hence tornados... hurricanes... earth quakes... I don’t believe in global warming... I do believe it is about time we see another ice age... it’s coming soon... I don’t believe humanity will outlive nature... I do believe we will destroy ourselves - but the earth will endure... I don’t believe oil is a fossil fuel - the Earth makes it... and she will always continue to make it... I don’t believe we will run out of water - but we may get taxed and charged for it - and we may go to war for it... I don’t believe we will run out of forests - because trees can be planted... I believe we can turn deserts into farms - but the powers that be don’t want that... I believe nature - when left alone... will be perfectly fine... the plants... the animals... and the humans...



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I grew up outside. I only went in when it was dark. Here lately, we've been hearing some very unpleasant nature sounds. Three types of 13-year periodical cicadas have climbed up out of the tree roots looking for love. Their mating calling is deafening and it can be heard all across my state. I promise it sounds like they're trying to contact the mother ship. I can't escape it, and I can't get used to it. Fortunately it only lasts about 6 weeks--we now have three weeks to go.