One month with flock of beasts
I’m seven months into this my Ultimate Dream. To Seek Beauty, and Live Fiercely, by foot, by word, by art. To invigorate people to explore the Two Wildernesses: the one outside and the one within themselves.
I think JULY is a perfect illustration of exactly what I want to be doing in Flock of Beasts’s future…there were PACK TRIPS, there was a STORYTELLING SHOW, there was ARTWORK created and sold…
First, the PACK TRIPS…
The First Feather
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The First Feather :::
This trek, I think, is the most beautiful I offer. The goal of The First Feather is to not only introduce the Beasts to solo-backpacking, but also SOLO CAMPING, which is arguably the more challenging feature of backpacking. We hike about twenty miles over two days, six on day one, around fifteen day two (depending on the location of your backcountry site!)
The Beasts, Liz and Lex, two friends and people of pure delight, were eager to try backpacking. Both had experience camping, but considered backpacking the “next step” in their wild goals.
The First Feather takes place along Lake Michigan’s stunning and ecologically diverse shoreline. The first six miles are along the Ice Age Trail, where the Eastern Terminus of the 1,000 mile trail awaits on a bluff at Potawatomi State Park. The Beasts hiked together under the full weights of their packs: even though we’d still be driving an hour to our campsites for the night, I believe in learning by doing. If you want to backpack, you must hike under the weight.
The First Feather is designed to be a progression: Night One, the Beasts had the option of camping together at a backcountry site, and Liz and Lex chose this option. They had, after all, never even tented alone, always camping with a happy band of friends. Solitude is a dark lake: sometimes it’s wonderful to step into it slowly.
The next morning, the goal was to backpack the network of trails through the wilderness park, all told about 15 miles.
I said to the Beasts, “Today it is my wish that you hike and camp alone.” And they, like wolf pups morphing to dragons, nodded and exclaimed, “We’re so excited!”
Our first adventure met us slowly: the trail was flooded! A half-heartedly hung sign said that the trail was closed, but I chose to instruct the Beasts to disobey, for these reasons…
The Trail is solid packed earth. To hike around would be to crush virgin forest underfoot. Much better to get your feet wet and not hurt anything, no?
There were no dates written on the notice. Who knew if conditions had changed?
There was no notice on the park website, which would have intensified the situation.
ADVENTURE
The Beasts shed their shoes and we waded ankle deep through rainwater! It was beautiful to see Liz and Lex look almost floating, like they were swimming through pure green, a forest made of water.
The trail was only flooded in small sections, and the majority of the hike was on dry land, through some of the most diverse ecological pockets of life that we have in the state. Oh, it’s so beautiful, the stomach of my soul grumbles.
The next morning, I rose early and hiked the two miles from my site to the beach where I cooked breakfast for the Beasts.
When each Beast arrived, she was glowing: Lex had set up her tent on Lake Michigan’s rocky beach, and heard waves beneath her all night. Under the moonlight, she read MY BOOK (the biggest honor ever?) …and then felt tiny feet alight on knee. She moved her headlamp, and an enormous moth found her as a sanctuary! The moth, the size of her hand, walked up her entire leg, up to her shoulder. Lex was a tree that night.
And Liz, watching the sky move its storms across the waters on her private beach, talked herself out of Fear when it tried to crawl inside her ear.
Ugh, BACKPACKING. The thrill is when your body takes you to a beautiful place, a pocket of Nature herself. The thrill is when you are wholly alone, but not alone. When Fear and Excitement light you up from the inside, and you can barely sleep because it’s all so bright, so wildly alive.
A fun aside: Lex is a gifted painter and while I was hiking, I got an INCREDIBLE IDEA of how to further unite artists with the freedom of backpacking. Stay tuned for THIS IDEA! (And if you’re an artist wanting in on the potential of this idea, send me an email now!
(The next First Feather pack trip will be in October, when the leaves are farwelling and the colors are richening)
Later the same week was…
Yellow Blazes:::
Intro to the Ice Age Trail
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Yellow Blazes::: Intro to the Ice Age Trail :::
The goal of this trek was to introduce Beasts to the Ice Age Trail, the 1,000 mile backpacking trail that snakes through the state of Wisconsin and, I believe, is our GLORY. The hidden gems of the stretch of trail I had chosen were five backpacking shelters that most hikers don’t know are there, but are there FOR backpackers. These shelters are not accessible by roads, and are primitive (basically a three-walled structure) but provide safe camping and a roof in the case of rain.
HOWEVER; because I am me, and am not yet free of carelessness, lack of attention to detail, and inopportune flights of fancy, I FORGOT TO RESERVE THE SHELTERS.
(This brings to mind a rare complaint I have for the WI Parks Department: if you want to hear me complain, you can email me separately, but I shan’t do it here.)
Because I had made this mistake, I closed the trek of any more beasts and offered the one beast who had already signed up (Nelle!) options…
I could cancel the trip and refund her money
We could reschedule for a later time when the shelters were available
We could TRESPACK (camp on public lands, on the Trail itself, but without reservations or a real campsite at all) (Thus, backpacking at its roughest and fizziest)
And Nelle, the lionheart, shouted a resounding THREE!
I feel immeasurably blessed to get to interact with women who are undaunted by my mistakes.
We met at the trailhead and I “shook down” her pack (helped her decide what she’d need/want and what she wouldn’t need to pack). And then we began the eight miles to "Shelter Two” where we would not camp, but camp near. And we had a friend: my brother’s dog, Bernie, who is completely in love with me and is an excellent backpacker himself.
The Ice Age Trial gets its name for the glacial clawmarks that have forever changed Wisconsin land. The Trail lilts up and down kettles, moraines, and eskers like a rollercoaster. It is a thrilling landscape: like being in the guts of a leafed dragon for dozens and dozens of miles. We only ever crossed roads: we never walked along them.
That first night we camped above a quiet stream and the friendliest thunderstorm ever crowded over our tents.
The next day would be fifteen miles through this leafed dragon. And, simply put: it was heaven. I would wait to check in with Nelle periodically, and I was filled with pride when I watched her emerge from the trees, a content, peaceful smile on her lovely face, and I was filled with thrill when she said, “I actually think the weight of the pack is really comfortable. It feels good.”
That night, we camped a bit apart, and Bernie hogged all the room in my tent. I had to shove him off my mattress, saying, “I’m the human!”
We awoke to birdsong. We awoke to trees talking. We awoke to our legs talking to us, saying “We were tired last night, but we have awoken, and we’d love to keep hiking!”
Nelle said to me, “This is exactly what you advertised. This is exactly what I was hoping it would be. It was just what I needed.”
it is my goal to work myself out of a job. all i want to be is a doorknob for women to get to Nature and to get to their own inner wilderness.
I would like for women to hire me once or twice, but then to “graduate out” of need, to take Adventures on their own, to fly into Nature with the strength of their own wings.
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Speaking of inner wilderness…
The landscape of an artist’s financial life is either rainforest or desert. There is no Wisconsin in the life of an artist: a steady, reliable land for grazing the cattle of your soul.
And I have endured through deserts before. But this month has not been one of them.
Below are the paintings that have sold this month, whether all at once or with a payment plan.
When I sell a painting, I know I get to be an artist for another month. I might never have longterm security, but I like these nibbles. It is enough for now. Even to nibble feels abundant when one is eating from so wild a force.
Speaking of Abundance…
My eigth self-produced storytelling show was Friday.
My goal was to take my audience with me to Costa Rica, where I backpacked in 2025. I wanted them to marvel at the mud, imagine the birdsong, and feel the warmth of the people I met along the teeming, glorious Camino de Costa Rica.
I am unbearably present at these shows, so it didn’t even occur to me to film any footage, take any pictures, or record any audience reactions.
I struggle with these shows more than any other part of my business. I want so thrillingly to shout my stories directly into people’s chest cavities, where their spirits live, but it is hard to motivate people to both care and act. Most people do neither, which frustrates me, because I do feel like somehow, in the labyrinth of the world, I have found a golden feather that will only multiply the more people know about it.
And yet, I had a full audience of eager souls.
It is a joy and an honor to get to tell them a true story.
So, JULY! You beautiful beast!
I believe I have my hand on the Drum of the Living.
I wish the same for you.
SEEK BEAUTY.
LIVE FIERCELY.
Do YOU want a Flock of Beasts storytelling show in your town? Do you want an art exhibition? Do you want more information on any pack trip? Shout at me via the form below and I’ll reply to you promptly!
(or if you’ve read this far, say hello so I know who I will love forever)
