Dusk to Dusk

Here’s a piece of flash fiction I entered into a contest. Warning it is a little Woo, but is something which I experienced around August 5 2016.

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Placing down his pack with a sigh, Danial looked at his deflated tent with little enthusiasm. His hurried flight from his former home left him missing many of the supplies which would have helped him survive in the autumn forest. Tent poles proved to be the foremost on this list.

Opening a can of ale, Danial gazed to the west. The sun had already dropped behind the swaying juniper and darkness ebbed over the forest surrounding Walnut Canyon.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to stop reliving his day.

Then he moved back with an unexpected jerk.

Ahead of him a grey haze formed. Starting small, it stretched into an undulating circle wider than he stood tall. This remained strange enough, but a feeling of dread built within him unbidden. Fear crept into Danial with icy hooks, like a physical wave, it hit. It left him almost unable to move but he did force his hand toward the slip knife which hung from his belt.

He felt his eyes grow wide when a moving, handless, arm began to form and attach itself to a torso. It appeared humanoid if you didn’t count it missing a head and most of a body.

It thrashed its one arm like a punker in a mosh pit. Whatever it could be, it appeared aggressive and continued to solidify. A cold terror owned him, and Danial prepared himself.

And then it left.

Like a flipped coin, the image loomed before him, and a second later it vanished. His building dread also melted into an unexpected wave of acceptance.

Looking west there remained no sign or hint the event had occurred.

Running his fingers through his hair, he thought about all his stress and wondered if it could have brought on his experience. Then his mind went in a different direction.

Where he prepared to camp lay only a couple of miles from the Walnut Canyon cliff dwellings, and it stayed illegal to be where he was year-round. No evidence of camping occurred anywhere near his tent.

Camping here remained rare, yet here he stood, and despite his horrid day at least something had accepted him.

If you’d like to explore one of my novels, you can do so here.

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Can you go Back? WildernessPunk

They say, “You can’t go back.” Which is of course false, because you can go back, it just might not feel the same way. Yet, what makes it different? I often look back at even recent times in my life and marvel over how much has changed in just a couple of years, but things can become dissimilar for us in just a few months as well.

Preroof and tarp

Sometimes situations change for the worse, but as darker fluctuations occur, at times they can also force us out of stagnation. Although many of us like to feel cozy and warm in a predicable life, one also runs the risk of trading the unknown for the known and lack of variety and adventure can often be the price you pay.

Boney Utah

As the sun begins to set on this mystic Baccanaught, I look back at where I was when I started WildernessPunk 18 months ago. I lived much of my time in camp 1 between Flagstaff and Walnut Canyon. I spent the days and nights alone with only the minimal equipment I could transport to the forest by bike. No fires, simple foods, mostly reading and writing until the battery on my loaned laptop died.

Now, not too long after, I’m living in a home with heat and water, dating a lovely goddess of a woman, seeing friends every week, and most importantly getting to have my boys stay with me.

boys

Yes, much can change quickly, but this only made it more exciting when I had a chance to return to Camp 1 recently. It felt fitting I hiked up into the forest alone. Within are pictures of Camp 1 taken in 2018, 15 months after the last night I slept there.

Trail

In theory, I had returned to clean up and perhaps salvage anything worth grabbing, but as I followed the old trail, which hid my homeless refuge, other more complex thoughts moved through my mind.

in the distance 2018

I felt grateful. Where so much had turned against me, now so many things have fallen into place. Yet as the readers of WildernessPunk might appreciate, with this turning of the tide, something was also lost.

Camp 1 view

One feels a pride persevering through obstacles and living low to the ground with limited resources. Nature is the great equalizer. Rich or poor, members of every race and belief are all treated the same. Only your ability to prepare and work to improve your state changes things in the real world.

 

Was this the Real World or is my normal house more real? Hard to say. I felt alive in a different fashion then. Am I more of a winner now or less? I’d get different answers from each person I could ask. Yet, the bottom line for many of us becomes our children, family, lover, and friends. Are you going to live for yourself and ideals, or jump into the mainstream so your can uphold different goals and ideals?

Perhaps one can do both. Wish me luck.

AZSunset

 

You can grab some of my fiction here, which I promise has nothing to do with this, Hell, my hero is a cop, go figure.

Homeless

I think there comes a time in every survivalist, nature poet, mountain man, and off the grider, where they wake up and contemplate whether what they’re doing is as good as it gets or if they are just another homeless loser. It doesn’t help that you could probably be quite a few of those things, pro and con, listed above all at the same time.

 

tree-fall-down

 

There is also a tipping point where friends, allies, and family are happy to be part of the adventure, but then begin to wonder how far one will take things. I’ve been beyond blessed over the last few months, but there’s a time the worrying begins.

 

worried_by_arrrkal-d6rtf02

WildernessPunk along with many other more natural pursuits, tend to challenge the status quo, also known as a person’s Cultural World View. CWV is, in as few words as possible, the way a person puts together their world. They create a framework of what is normal, right and wrong, fun and boring. It is a belief system. Opinions can be shared, many of us agree on certain issues, but like the whirling ball of chaos we all are, rare will we find a person who agrees on all our beliefs. Hell, if I get over 50% I know I’ve found a friend.

 

This could make me a harder person to spend time with right now. I’m just walking down a dirt road while others rip by me in their cars. This also means my current lifestyle confronts others, who are remaining within a system which most of us hate. I find I have a little awkwardness with some people as well. I didn’t have to wake up this morning and deal with an annoying supervisor and repeat some task I’ve already done a few thousand times. I’m not taking care of anyone’s needs either. I mean hey, I do things to help people all the time, but those are like giving gifts instead of often thankless routine.

 

Conversely, I’m living with less than anyone I spend time with. A LOT less. I have very little cash, I’m not eating as much as the average guy, and well, I have almost no possessions with me. I’m also riding my bike sometimes 20 miles a day. Networking. Writing. I feel a distance from the rest of the humans in many ways.

 

spider

 

Yet in other ways I’m closer to many of my friends than I have been in years. Certain barriers and obstacles are down. I feel free to be myself and with most of the people I spend time with, my new found time has renewed my life and I’m able to make stronger connections.

 

c1clouds

However, perhaps one of the biggest differences is the new Bell Curve of my life, which is alone versus diving into large social situations. Whether it has been family, friends, or events, I’ve been spending loads of time with others and having often more fun than I’ve had in long years. However, this is also tempered with whole periods of being alone. Sometimes I don’t see anyone for days. Even when I come into town, I will spend hours alone in some public spot writing.

 

 

I think this, at least for me, massive amounts of alone time also sets me off from most of the folks I know. In case you might not have realized, it’s an odd thing to spend two nights alone in the woods and then ride your bike 15 miles into town for a dinner party. It’s all good and fun, but those are harder gears to shift through than seeing half of the people all week at your job and then having a beer with them around the BBQ.

 

bike-bloody

So what am I bitching about? Isn’t this the exact principle WildernessPunk is based on. WildernessPunk: A man can survive and enjoy living in nature, but still be part of the e-world. Or more simply, a person could live in both worlds.

 

Let’s just say, I’m noticing the more challenging aspects. I think of such things as, “How different would it be if this was my land?” But again, that’s the first trap. Mine, not theirs. It’s the way of the predator.

 

 

WildernessPunk is the mouse.

 

And a mouse makes his own house. So a mouse is never homeless. And I brought a tortilla for Lucy so hopefully she won’t bug me tonight. Signing off from Cammmmmp 1

 

hurt

 

We got through another touchy subject, I promise to embrace Dionysus more next time so swing back by in a few days.

 

dionysus_bacchus_greek_god_art_11_by_valerhon

 

Grab some Skinjumper-Punk here and help support your friendly WildernessPunker

 

sundown

Self-Censor of my WildernessPunk

I head out for my first official Fall camp. And yeah, it’s good ol’ Camp 1. Can’t knock it other than Lucy eating a few holes in one of my shirts. Bad, bad, camp rat. Kurt told me to kill you, but instead you get tortillas and still no gratitude.

 

camp-1-clouds

 

Windy with an edge of cold. Nature is asking, “You ready, —fill in the blank—

for this? What kind of jacket is that? Where is…?”

 

It will be down into the 30s tonight, but I shouldn’t have an issue. I’ve done what I could do to prep for this, but more gear could help. Still,,,wah, this is nothing, press on.

 

camp-writing-spot

 

I’ll head out of the forest and into the world of man for a book signing tomorrow. Wilderness–>Writer–>Humans–>$–>Hatch Chili Party. It should be my kind of day.

 

***

 

Things went well, sold a book every half hour. And managed to make it to the party a few hours before it got shut down.

 

book-signing

 

Today, however, not as smooth. I know I make it look easy, but this WildernessPunk thing isn’t the simplest thing in the world to pull off, but add onto this various trials and tribulations, and other random bullsh***************

 

(I’ve been told the following should not be posted at this time. I apologize for this and feel very sorry some of the teeth of this post were forced to be removed at this time. Yet within each conflict is a battle and there is no need to give the other side additional ammunition. I’m already screwed enough.)

 

So let’s post a happy picture instead.

 

morning-walk

 

(My advisors say it is safe to continue from here)

 

Can you tell I’m frustrated?

 

angry-croc

 

Yeah, I know, I need to relax and roll with it. As sated before, part of the thrill of WildernessPunk and life in general, is a level of challenge, conflict, and complication. If I didn’t have any of that, could I be a writer, would I deserve to write this blog? Most likely the answer to those questions would be… no. Challenge leads to strength. Conflict leads to perseverance. Complication leads to creative solutions.

 

So again I say, bring it on. We’ll see who wins. Alex Bone will give it. I’ve sure as hell taken it. So maybe it’s time to serpent up and see what I can make happen or maybe I’ll just have to move to Africa. I do like crocodiles.

 

happy-croc

 

Sorry I had to censor this post, but the reason I’m agitated is the reason I still need to watch my written word. I promise I’ll post it one day.

 

rio-del-flag

 

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camp-south

Wind

Getting all my data, passwords, and such from Nicole’s laptop took longer than I had expected. I guess I got pretty busy with the laptop she loaned me for a 5.5 months. But now she’s gone, the farmer’s daughter has returned to the Indiana farm and I have one less pal in Flagtown. I probably won’t be making a bunch of new ones either hanging out here at Camp 1, but I did see some old friends at her little departure party.

 

clouds

 

I had intended to ninja into town to drop off her laptop, but ended up spending the night in Flag. Took care of some things I’ll either keep secret or not bore you with. I sit here within the wind. It has a slight chill, almost like a warning, ‘Summer is almost spent and Fall will lead to a brutal Winter. How do you expect to survive?’ It jokes at me like a playful siren, humor before hardship or is it humor in the hardship.

 

But things aren’t so drastic yet and I spit back at the winds and demand they keep their dances of gloom and doom to themselves.

 

sunset-writers-camp

 

Then a limping coyote walks by. It might be about the largest coyote I’ve ever seen. Tan, yellow, and light brown reflect off its fur. Yellow is the color of The Selectors in my novels, which are the viscous spirits who protect nature at all costs.  I also found it odd the animal limped.

 

skinwalker_animation_by_celticmagician

 

This became even stranger, when I grabbed the camera to try to get a shot and the animal had already vanished.

 

I hesitate to write this, since I am within their territory, but the Dine have witches called Skinwalkers which assume the shape of coyotes, favor yellow, and tend to disappear at will. I haven’t had any trouble since it passed, but I’ll need to be vigilant tonight.

 

***

 

The day took an ominous turn as dark clouds moved in from the west while thunder vibrated the hills. I was in a bit of a funk before, but now I have a strange feeling of anticipation.

 

storm-clouds

 

I hadn’t expected rain, but it came anyway. Sort of an annoying, just wet enough to have to stash my things, but then it would stop. I’d take some wet things out to dry just to have it start raining again. Then the sun would come out and I’d try to work on my newest novel only to have to shut this laptop when the rain begun again.

 

storm-coming

 

But I have more exciting news. I have a pet of sorts. A huge desert rat is living in the roof of my shelter. Now I know why my sleeping bag was chewed open and where so many feathers went, the little turd. This isn’t some pet store rat. I’ll tell you that. She’s brown and mangy. We stared at each other for a long time when I lifted my camo-tarp to look for something. Then she ran off. I gave her some pizza. Maybe we can be friends and maybe she’ll be quieter at night and not bug me as much since I know where she lives, so if she messes with me, I could mess with her too.

 

lucy

 

***

 

Just a final note. There were no more Heebies Jeebies. A few elk walked through my camp in the morning and since I gave the rat two tortillas, she let me sleep through the night. Yes, I’m sure the little gal is a she and I’m going to name her Lucy after the dog I had as a kid growing up.

 

elk

 

 

Tune back in as I Do the Unexpected and Head out of Arizona Again. Or maybe you were expecting that.

 

apex-moon-clud

 

 

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breakfast-burrito-work-station-%ef%bb%bf

WildernessPunk, Camp 1 and Having Fun

I find it strange to discover, after my back issues yesterday, that a night of sleeping on the earth has cured the pain. My legs are still torn up a bit from the sprinting, but I’m sure the 13 mile ride into town will take care of that. Also odd is… I woke up at 4:30 and felt no need to go back to sleep. I guess two nights of good sleep and going to bed at 8:30 will do this to a guy.

 

Storm Clouds

 

Yet, despite how lovely the woods were in the morning, I need a strong dose of the Cyberpunk side of the fence and about seventeen other things.

Pizza and Caffeine slams has me hitting the web and making a few things work. After taking care of some much less pleasant issues, I start back toward the eastern forest.

A pit stop at AZ Adventure headquarters brings me into the loop. Despite our setbacks we have purchased a mobile device that would allow me to jack into cyberspace from almost anywhere. I won’t be rolling out here with it on my bike, but it does bring up interesting options for some seriously burly possibilities.

 

Cyber World

 

Taking the Punk up a notch while we’re in the center of Wilderness.

One way or another we’re going to roll this.

I felt surprisingly relaxed when I made it back to camp one. I need to be careful. I might be letting my guard down and getting too comfortable here. Dangers from man and animal are a distinct possibility. Humans during the day and the animals at night. Something prowled around my tent last night. You’d think they’d be over it.

Random predators wonder through this area. My brother and I found mountain lion prints only a mile from where I’m camping. I know black bears and pumas go after people. I had to fight off a cougar in Colorado once, but I was awake then and had a sword in one hand and a shovel in the other. Out here, alone, and with no fire, the situation could favor the predators.

The coyotes kept up their howls until after dawn this morning. Of them I have little fear, but they are the gateway-predators to the real deals. Luckily the huge amount of tiny prickly pear has me constantly scanning the ground which helps with snakes and other smaller perils. So far Yig has protected me from such things and I haven’t gotten so much as a spider bite. Well time for some Pizza. I had to ride 18 miles and bum a lift for the last few, but hey, this is damn good pizza. Say are those Hatch chilies… nice.

 

8/23/16

Since this is the last night I’ll probably spend here for two weeks, in typical reverse, Alex Bone fashion, I bust-out the camp.  Early in the morning I stroll under a cloud laden sky. A fine midst had proved enough to keep me from writing or reading, but I had already finished a book, so I set to explore.

 

Pre-stumps

 

I managed to get some contacts with the outside world, despite the cloud cover, which appears to dampen my iffy text status. I was just walking toward a lightning blasted tree, when I spotted something I’ve been searching for this entire time, cut out sections of trees. It proved quite the arduous walk through the forest caring these three sixty pounds tree tables, but well worth it for me.

I fixed up and repaired the camp chair and now have a little table for both my morning and evening writer’s nooks.

 

wildernesspunk work station

 

Again I suppose this brings up the concept of True Environment, I mentioned before. Do I really need an end table, or a chair for that matter? I’ve survived out here without both before. Is my presence ever so slowly eroding Camp 1’s True Environment?

Obviously, the answer is yes. Like most humans, I can’t help but alter my environment to favor my needs. I seek nature, but then change it with my hand upon entering. Still one could argue I have less of an impact on the overall True Environment by not using much gasoline, utilities, and other natural resources.

This will be my tenth night here and during all that time, I’ve only had one grocery bag full of trash which needed to be removed.

Flipping the dagger, it is important to consider the Punk(Cyber) side of my current equation. I’m writing and ShareStorming to in theory be improving my state. Since I recently lost about 95% of possessions, there’s the idea of starting from scratch and advancing forward. I’d like to get solar panels to recharge my tech, my own laptop instead of this borrowed one, and perhaps one day, gasp, a vehicle.

 

Camp 1 snag

 

Right now efficiently is important. I need to max my time and resources so I can rip through as many projects as possible, for overall, their payoff is poor. If I need to alter the True Environment to aid me in my goal, I have to allow myself to remember I’m an animal too. I have the right to live on this earth as much as the elk, bee, or horny toad. They alter their environment to survive and now I must too.

 

Camp 1 Never leave

 

 

Thanks for listening and turn back in to see how my the rest of the month goes before I really head north and explore the wilds of Utah, Idaho, and Wyoming?

 

Grab some of my SkinJumper-Punk fiction here

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Arizona Clouds

Wilderness Punk, First Challenge

Something happened yesterday, which became very intense. I was tested. If I had failed, this experiment would be over before it started.

 

I heard something moving over the hills toward me. I’ve clocked hundreds of days of camping, but I had never heard anything like this. I could sense something traveling my way. A wall of water approached my site. This wasn’t a few sprinkles that grew into something more. No, instead this was a visual, moving storm. One moment it was dark, the next I was in torrents of blasting rain.

Storm

My first thought was all my tech, and well, everything else. My meager possessions went into my half destroyed tent. I quickly realized that my old tarp was also all but useless in a storm of this power. As I did my best to secure my backpacks and wrapped them in my blankets I become soaked to the bone. I wouldn’t have been wetter if I had jumped into a lake. With a yelp, I remembered my cell and dashed it out of my soggy shirt pocket and into the inner pouch of a back pack.

 

But things weren’t good.

pre-roof

I accepted that I was completely drenched and didn’t let that bother me as I struggled to figure out a way to protect my things. I had found a huge tile earlier, which went on the tent first, but it gave me an idea.

 

Water became six inches deep over the surface of the entire forest. I sloshed through the pools and streams looking for strong long branches. I got these up and built a grind work over my tent. Next I made overlapping shingles out of giant pieces of ponderosa bark. It took a few hours and of course once I was done it stopped raining, but I had gained myself an additional level of protection.

Shacking in

It rained a little that night and I didn’t have any issues inside the tent.

 

Hopefully it will help keep the place as dry and secure as possible, for Wednesday is townie day. I have work, need to see contacts, get some networking done, a class to attend, and some more work to take care of before I head out for a longer trip to one of my favorite places in Arizona, a place where I will be able to jump into my own private pond paradise.

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Bone at Lilly

 

Thanks for listening and turn back in to see how things go with campsite 2.

 

Grab some of my Skin-Punk fiction here

 

wet

Wilderness Punk, Setbacks

Waking up with the sun, I listen to the birds and hope they help drone out the plane passing overhead. I know I need to reach further into the wilds, but with just a bike for transportation, I’d leave the Punk/Cyber out of my Wilderness equation.

 

Since yesterday I expounded on my resources, I thought today I would give a quick overview of my current weaknesses. I won’t go into the lack of some wish list and I’ve already covered my damaged bike and almost non-tent.

Tangled tree

The most obvious are my recent injuries. In the month of July I suffered a few mishaps. After an invite to a get together where I knew almost no one, I experienced a wreck on the way home which left me with three broken ribs on my right side and a hairline fracture in my left wrist. No big deal really, just gives me some aches and makes some things a little harder.

 

I broke my largest toenail far back under the skin during an angry powerwalk home, back when I had a home. This was a worry for a few weeks. It bled everyday as the nail worked itself out from under the skin. I went on some ten miles hikes and strangely the last one worked it off and on the last full day I got to spend at my last place… it came free. I felt like an odd level of rebirth when that happened right before I headed out into the forest.

 

Right now I have no real job or at least I’m not working for someone else.  Currently trying to start and keep going a few of my own businesses, those chiefly being, writing, training, marketing, and touring. I’m in the process of trying to get this touring company off the ground which will be a rocking dream job, but for now I’m just surviving on mostly money I make online, which could make living in the woods more difficult, thus the whole Wilderness Punk goal.

Back II

I only mention jobs and such because, yeah, like most folks in the USA I have people I owe and other obligations. Upside, not dumping money on rent and utilities, car payments, or gas.

 

Footwear is a minor concern. My sandals are going strong, but nights will be getting colder soon. My new sneakers paid the price for my one night of bliss and need to be repaired. My two pairs of boots have still not made it into the storage unit. I sure hope they don’t become a write off.

 

Where I am no fires are allowed and I’ll be surviving around that, but I also need to get more serious camping supplies. The horror is, I have everything I need, back at my former house, but I’m not able to gather it. Still, new things would be fine as well, but it comes back to the money thing mentioned above.

 

Will some tours come in? Will Alex Bone make it to the wifi coffee shop? Can he charge his computer in time? Tune in ah…probably tomorrow unless I get a flat tire or something. Peacing Out

 ab

 

Thanks for listening as I face my first real trail next.

 

Grab some of my Skin-Punk fiction here

 

arizonafog

 

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Wilderness Punk, Camp 1, Day 2

Out in the forests ten miles east of Flagstaff, a place where pine and oak have juniper for a neighbor. Ravens and hawks battle the still air to fly over the hills and washes cutting through the green. I sit alone in the camping chair I found discarded—just today. I’ve repaired it to a relative working order and it affords me a simple luxury I hadn’t anticipated and also brings me to the subject matter of this post.

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Backside Camp

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Being only one day in and still having some ice for my beer, I’m not feeling to hard pressed, so in the absence of any stressors or obstacles, I thought it would be a good time to outline the list of that I have going for me as I strive to live my Wilderness Punk lifestyle.

 

To keep with the punk/cyber side of things, I possess a laptop and a smart phone. Both are pretty fly and puts me a few levels above many folks who struggle out in the woods, however my charger doesn’t seem to have a place to plug into this tree. This will give me limited time to accomplish my writing and I obviously can’t post anything from here or get on the web in any way. My phone can did small things, but it has no bars most of the time. I can send a text by taking a small hike and climbing on top of a giant fallen pine, but other things need doing.

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Cell Survice

Yes, some people have tech which can stream from the wilderness and even solar panels to charge their devices. Yeah, I guess I’m more Wilderness than Punk right now. Perhaps I will evolve, but currently de-evolving seems a bit more accurate.

 

I have a couple of sleeping bags, a couple of backpacks full of random gear like clipboards and pens. A few daggers, papers, and items to help me blend back into civilization are also housed there. My tent for reasons I might delve into later, is a farce. Holes with no poles makes, it a tent in name only. Also I have a tiny cooler, which holds maybe three cans with some ice. Yeah, I need to gear up.

 

Trail

 

Others things I have going for me are half a storage unit, which is currently about 2/3 packed and I just got a PO Box, which is awesome, but also expensive.

 

Then my last real luxury is my ripping ‘Giant’ mountain bike. Just got a free tune up and was running like Hermes pushed me from behind until some foul human drove into where it was parked up on the curb. A few operations and money spent and it is back to running well, although the back tire was damaged and might leave me working harder on the long rides. More things to fix, but right now I just need hold on to what I got and give myself a whole day of peace in the wilds before reality strikes and I take the long ride back into the humanity. Flagstaff my mountain island surrounded by the Arizona deserts baking in the summer sun will be calling me soon enough.

 

Chaos Face

 

Thanks for listening and I’ll take a peek at challenges next.

 

Grab some of my Skin-Punk fiction here

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Coolness Cliffs