Camping with Myself

Arizona is a passionate state. I've always enjoyed driving through it more than any other. Every twenty miles the terrain seems to shift into something even more amazing and truly different than anything else found in the other 49 states, and it's got attitude. From pleasant soft hills with patches of vivid gold brush to angry rock formations of reds and purples. The landscapes changes from majestic and violent to humble within the span of forty miles. When you add in the vegetation straight out of Dr Seuss' imagination littering the roadsides, the intense and lighting fast monsoon storms, and the awe-inspiring sunsets. It's hard to not be moved over and over and over as you drive through Arizona.

The drive out to Payson is a dangerous one- when I'm driving. The roads are fun winding up and down the mountains, but the views are hard to ignore so I find myself distracted.

With a large sandwich, some beer, and a couple cans of dinty moore I headed out to Payson to a campsite at Christopher Creek to get away from the city and spend some time enjoying the outdoors.



I got a great little campsite right next to the creek. I set a chair up by the river and just sat. Solitude is an amazing thing, if you can stand yourself. Sometimes I think contentment is being able to sit alone for hours and not vomit on your shoes.



I hit it off with with my campsite neighbors later in the evening and ended up sharing dinner with them as we chatted about all the forbidden subjects (religion, politics, and sports).

There is something about camping that makes life seem worry free. A couple years ago I spent a summer living in a tent in my backyard. My life was overwhelming and stressful, but every night laying in the Iowa summer heat, I felt so free.