Leaving the Jacob Lake campground on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend for a dispersed site on the Kaibab National Forest felt strangely disconcerting.
Try as I might to allow a rebellious streak to emerge, I have always been a color-inside-the-lines, stay-on-the-trail, follow-all-of-the-rules kind of guy. I almost always go to church on Sunday and spend most of my life trying not to hurt the feelings of others no matter how much I might disagree.
Developed campgrounds make me comfortable. I know the basic needs of a bathroom, a picnic table and a level place to put a tent will be met. There are rules to follow and people there to help you obey them.
For example, there was a fire ban in effect the night we stayed at Jacob Lake. I had called in advance to make certain a small, propane campfire would be legal. Three different campground hosts came to our campsite and told me to put it out before checking with their supervisor who had approved it. That didn’t stop them from glaring at me like I was a criminal. Being a Catholic, I still felt guilty even though the fire was safe and legal.
Left on my own, I would have stayed at the developed campground, visited the safe trails of the North Rim of Grand Canyon National Park and been a part of the Memorial Day masses.
But my traveling companions, including my daughter Emma and one of her best friends from Flagstaff, Ariz., who knew the area, had other plans. Since we carried water, two portable tables and a shovel to bury human waste, we would stay outside the lines of the national park.
Such freedom frightens me for reasons I can’t understand. I asked the workers at the North Kaibab Visitors Center plenty of pointed questions about Forest Service travel plans, fire restrictions and where it was legal to camp. They seemed perfectly fine with the entire idea.
There was also the matter of my new pickup. I justified the expense because I could drive it off highway. But, with its inside and outside still shiny and little more than 1,000 miles on the odometer, turning off the pavement for a trip on the long and bumpy dirt road made me cringe.
When we ended up at a remote patch of dirt near an old fire pit, dust covered my newest toy. Worse, someone left a light on and the battery died, giving me something else to worry about.
Everything worked out just fine. Some 30 miles off the highway and well outside of the national park, we pretty much had our Grand Canyon viewpoint to ourselves. We got the truck to start, we didn’t burn the forest down, we left no trace and, most important, we found silence.
Sleeping in the the bed of the truck, I savored black skies filled with stars. Each night, we walked a few yards to the edge of the Grand Canyon and set up our camp chairs to watch the sun set.
I discovered what I knew all along. Leaving the safety of what you know to a place off the beaten track where you follow your own rules can be more than a little satisfying.
June 1, 2006 By Tom Wharton, Tribune Columnist, Salt Lake Tribune
I agree. We never camp in a dedicated camp ground. Here in Australia it is pretty much legal to camp anywhere, but there are unwritten rules. i.e Don’t litter. Respect the environment.