In the middle of nowhere, the perfect campsite emerges, offering shelter from the wind - and so much more.
By TERRY TOMALIN
Published November 21, 2003
[Times photo: Terry Tomalin]
The sun sets behind a stand of trees on a cozy island, reachable only by boat, in Mosquito Lagoon. Finding the right place to camp can take time, but it's well worth it.
[Times art]
MOSQUITO LAGOON - Paddling my kayak against the wind, scouring the shore for a break in the treeline, I had just about given up hope of finding a campsite.
When you are cold, wet and tired, something as seemingly insignificant as a tiny patch of dry ground can make all the difference.
Standing on an oyster bar, a north wind chilling me to the bones, I studied the map trying to figure out where I had gone wrong.
It didn't matter, I thought to myself. If I pressed on just a little farther, I knew I would find that perfect place to camp.
I had been in the same situation before - on a wind-swept pass in New Zealand and in a steaming jungle in Suriname - and each time my luck had held.
Sure, there were also times when I slept in the back of my pickup truck or curled up in a tarp on a picnic table next to some riverside rest area, but the mind tends to block out those unpleasant experiences.
Instead, I only remember the "good camps."
There was a time when a good campsite could mean the difference between life and death. Shelter from predators and bad weather was an essential part of human survival. But in the modern world, complete with air conditioning, cell phones and microwave ovens, we don't like to be inconvenienced, let alone challenged.
So I chastised myself for being "soft," climbed back into my boat and paddled toward a stand of oak trees about a mile away.
Pulling onto the beach, a set of raccoon prints let me know that I wouldn't be the only animal using this high ground. I'd have to store my food in the kayak or lose it to these masked bandits.
A quick survey of the camp revealed that I had made a fine choice. The stunted oak trees would provide shade suring the day and block the wind that was howling out of the north. The trees were well spaced, which let just enough breeze slip through to chase away the mosquitoes.
The trees were far enough apart to string a clothes line and dry my wet things. There was also an 8- by 10-foot patch of ground, free of small plants and rocks, that would be perfect for my one-man tent. I positioned the window at my feet toward the east so the sun could serve as my alarm clock.
The cold front, the first good one of the season, had caused the temperature to drop. It could hit the low 60s or high 50s once the sun went down.
There was a fire ring provided by the park service, but gathering wood was prohibited. Still, I had thought ahead and stopped at a supermarket on the way in and bought some packaged logs made of compressed wood.
Some folks might scoff at a store-bought fire. But let them laugh, I thought, as I touched a match to the tinder. About 8 o'clock, when the darkness has taken hold and sent the temperature plummeting, the flames would be a comfort.
Luckily, this campsite (which was only accessible by boat) also had a picnic table. I had spent many a night sitting on the cold ground eating off my lap. It would be nice to eat a hot meal at a table.
It took about three minutes for my tiny backpacking stove to boil water for a pot of instant coffee. A can of soup would take a little longer, so I used the time to change into dry clothes.
As my soup cooled enough to eat, I unwrapped a cigar - my after-dinner treat. Then I kicked back, sipped sweet, black coffee and watched the sun melt into the horizon.
This was a good camp, I thought. No, better make that great.
Then I heard a rustling in the underbrush and turned to see a fat raccoon eyeing my cache of food.
I'm sure that old he-coon agreed.
If you go
Mosquito Lagoon is located within the boundaries of Cape Canaveral National Seashore, south of New Smyrna Beach on Florida's East Coast. Backcountry camping is allowed year-round. Permits are required and reservations are suggested. The campsites have no facilities, and campers must be self-supported. Call 386 428-3384, ext. 10, or visit www.nbbd.com/godo.cnc
