camping · cycling · fitness · inclusiveness

49 Nights in a Hammock: 17 Lessons (Guest post, #bikepacking)

Sorry to leave you all hanging for so long! When I wasn’t hanging in my hammock, I was catching up on school and much needed rest! As fun as adventuring is, it’s also tiring. I’ll be taking a break from blogging for a while to dig into exciting research projects, focus on my course work, and start drafting ideas for a book. My posts will be sporadic until I have a lighter course load in the spring. In the meantime, you can follow me on Twitter @JoyBringingHope.

Image Description: In the top right corner of the photo is a background with grey and white clouds with a tiny bit of blue peaking through, below it but still in the background are brightly coloured trees in red, orange, and yellow. In the foreground, surrounded by first tall grass and then a neatly manicured clearing of grass, is another group of trees that are yellow-green and in the centre of those is a forest green hammock covered by a rain fly.
  1. Give yourself time to adjust to a hammock and ask for comfort tips. Initially I found my comfort was inconsistent, so Hennessy suggested positioning my head at the (slightly) lower end of the hammock. It worked! Now beds annoy me. 😂 A quick pre-purchase web search revealed that many North Americans are surprised that they prefer the comfort of a hammock over the comfort of a mattress. (Don’t tell Sleep Country or hammocks will start costing thousands of dollars!)
  2. Pillows are unnecessary (and uncomfortable) while on your back, but useful when sleeping on your side – a sweatshirt works too. 
  3. Practice setting up before you actually need it — or at least leave plenty of time to set up before dark.
  4. Falling asleep staring up at the stars is epic… I will never tire of that.
  5. Be prepared for sudden rain even if it isn’t in the forecast.
  6. As the nights start cooling down dew makes the rain fly necessary even when rain isn’t forecast.
  7. Waking up to chirping birds or chittering squirrels can be fun… and rain flies provide poop protection!

Image Description: the background fills the left half of the photo with green grass, it is lush towards the top of the photo, but sparse and interspersed with dirt towards the bottom. The right half of the photo shows a close up of part of a tree trunk in the foreground. In the centre of the photo peaking around the tree and looking directly at the camera is a brown squirrel with a cluster of seeds from a cedar tree in it’s mouth.

  1. Apple trees smell nice, but you’d better have a strong rain fly! 😆Hennessy’s held up well. 🙃
  2. Position your hammock so that the zippered side of the bug net opens towards the easiest exit… which conveniently also allows easy sunrise photos from your cozy sleeping bag.
  3. If you’re hammocking between posts be aware of joints where your rope can get jammed. Always use tree straps since they are easier to get out of a jam or replace if necessary.

Transcript: “I definitely just used my bicycle as a stool so I could get up here [onto the top of a pavilion beam] because my hammock rope was wedged into there [between the joints] and it required hacking with a tent peg in order to get it free. So this was an adventure for the morning. Problem solving while hammock camping.”
Image description: A caucasian woman with rosy cheeks wearing glasses, a red rain coat, black gloves, and a blue helmet over a thin grey hat. I am perched atop a wooden beam at the edge of a pavilion, holding my hammock rope and a tent peg in one hand while videotaping myself with the other.
  1. Water bottles in plastic bags are great for keeping the fly taught by weighing it down. 
  2. Watch the forecast and find covered shelter if it’s likely to be rainy *and* windy. Pavilions, bridges, and Kingdom Hall overhangs are prime possibilities. School entrances could work in a pinch, but would definitely be a privileged mea culpa option which likely has a relatively high risk of police being called. Huge thanks to my friend Eric Todd for brainstorming with me when buckets of rain were expected and the only pavilion in Espanola was unavailable!
Image Description: In the background is a grey sky, with a forest of trees. In the mid-ground is highway 6 leading out of Espanola. In the foreground is the distinct architectural design of a Kingdom Hall: a red brick building with a wide and long overhang that is big enough to fit a large SUV underneath, the ground beneath is red cobblestone. Underneath the overhang is a blue winter shovel, beside a yellow bin (presumably holding sand), beside my bicycle which is covered in a camoflage bike parka. Beside all that, just in front of the main doors to the building the edge of a blue tarp can be seen on the ground blowing slightly in the wind. On top of this is my hammock with bug net (to protect against the few remaining mosquitoes), then inside that is my sleeping pad, sleeping bag, and an emergency blanket.
  1. Better yet, buy a big rain fly. The one mine came with was perfect most nights… but nowhere near sufficient during windy storms. 
  2. If lightning is expected look for a shelter with electricity (eg. fancy picnic pavilions and Kingdom Halls). At the very least avoid tying to the tallest trees… maybe also avoid close proximity to large bodies of water. Stay off the ground though… it’s a conduit. Shoes don’t have enough rubber for lightning protection. (Don’t ask me why. I read this somewhere online while freaking out at my nightmare stealth site.)
  3. Bring a sleeping mat for insulation; it’s also useful if you need to wait out a storm on the ground of a pavilion or simply can’t find suitable trees.
  4. Bring a balaclava to keep your nose and ears warm.
  5. Bring a spare dry bag to store your dirty shoes beside your hammock. 

camping · cycling · fitness · inclusiveness

Nightmare Stealth Spot (Guest Post)

In the space of a few days, I had both the worst and the best campsites. 

I was in Thessalon on September 14th, when I had an utterly nightmarish campsite. Hopefully this gives you a laugh without giving my mom nightmares! It began with an electric storm that kept me up terrified I’d be struck and with no idea what to do to protect myself… something I didn’t research before leaving home! I tried googling this info, but my internet connection was the speed of dial up… so while I waited, I continued freaking out about the possibility of being struck by lightning. Eventually I managed to read a few articles that were only marginally helpful and then climbed out of my hammock to begin looking for a safer space to wait out the storm. Since I found nothing within close proximity, I figured curling up in my hammock on a thermarest was probably safer than being a tall thing seeking shelter in a fairly open area. 

As I returned to my hammock, I noticed a small plant in the middle of my “campsite.” Not knowing how to identify poison ivy, I freaked out… another thing I didn’t research before leaving home! After yet another extensive and painstakingly slow Google search, I concluded that it was in fact poison ivy. If I’d stepped in it while setting up camp, I’d long since spread it all over my clothes. In the morning I would need to figure out a place to wash my clothes and shower carefully just in case I’d stepped in it… something fraught with other risks since I don’t do well with many types of laundry detergents and artificial fragrances… both of which laundromats are full of.

Finally the lightning ceased and I fell into an exhausted but fitful sleep. I woke up to my 7am alarm, but I desperately needed more sleep so decided it was worth the risk of someone finding me there. By this time I’d been discovered stealth camping a few times and it had always ended in a great convo and laughter, so I wasn’t concerned. I figured the worst that would happen is they would tell me to leave… and I would leave… no big deal. 

Around 8am, I awoke to trucks sawing down trees on the next lot and approaching my “campsite” …which was also a construction site.* I have never scrambled out of my hammock and packed up camp as quickly as I did that day! Don’t worry though, I paused to snap a photo before tearing down and did a quick vlog before racing out of there. I did not look back. Really wish I’d left behind a note for the unsuspecting construction workers: “Thanks for the campsite… and not felling a tree on me! My day would have been soooo much worse if you weren’t skillful at guiding the trees as they fell!” (Note to those absolutely horrified by this story: I would not have stopped to video or even packed up if I didn’t think it was safe to do so.)

Idyllic spot on the beach? Maybe not…

Even with anxiety a trip like this can be fun… and vlogging my mishaps has been a great way to gain perspective and find humour in the challenging aspects of my adventure. Don’t worry… most sites are nowhere near as dramatic as this one!

Down the street, I paused to pick up my bear bag from the portapotty at the nearby park and to rearrange my load which was very higgilty piggilty. For some time I stood in the wind beside the playground alternating between feeling amused at the absurdity of the story and anxious about poison ivy. I was grateful that the rain held off until I could assemble myself and plan my next steps. 

It took a few hours, but eventually my day began to turn around, thanks in large part to another visitor to Thessalon who asked if I was biking across Canada, was empathetic when I immediately burst into tears, looked at the “poison ivy” photos I had taken and confidently told me it was not poison ivy. Thank you environmental guide turned musician visiting from the states for the first time in two years! We ran into each other a few times during the next few days and both appreciated the company of a new friend in the midst of our solo travels.

What I thought was poison ivy…
My second night in Thessalon I slept peacefully at the city run campground across from this beach.

Delightfully, a few days later I was gifted with the best campsite imaginable… a much needed reprieve! More on that another time!

*Yes, it was a bold stealth spot that likely only felt like a reasonable risk because of my social location as a white thin female. I can get away with things many others could not.

cycling · fitness · holidays · inclusiveness

Challenges and Joys (Guest Post) #bikepacking

I began my bike tour just over a week ago on August 21st. So much has happened that I hardly know where to begin. Each day has lots of challenges to troubleshoot, but there is plenty of joy too.

In Exeter my biggest challenge was being kicked out of the free campsite because I was in a tent, rather than an RV. When the by law officer stopped by I had just laid down for a much needed nap, prior to a much needed massage appointment – the timing could not have been worse. As a result, I didn’t get a nap and was 20 minutes late for my massage… even though I packed things up so hastily that I needed to completely unpack and repack later. It threw off my whole day and gave me greater empathy for folx who are displaced from tent cities. 

As I was repacking more effectively my cooler fell and a full jar of pasta sauce spilled all over the place. All day it had been one thing after another, so I looked at it and wryly commented to myself “that seems about right!”

Partially loaded bicycle with bags and stuff all around it (including a jar of pasta sauce spilled on the ground), as I was repacking things in Exeter.

Fortunately, there’s a delicious and low cost Thai restaurant that took the edge off. That night I stealth camped for the first time and left early in the morning. Earlier in the week friends had suggested an a great stealth camping spot in Exeter, so I had an instant back up for the night.

My greatest joy in Exeter was getting to know a couple folx living in poverty. They reminded me of some of my friends from Sanctuary London… the place where I feel most at home… most at ease… most like I can just be myself no matter what. Josh* and I had a couple convos that were rich with a sense of common humanity as we shared our struggles and dreams. Then about an hour before I rolled out of town, an older gentleman who I’d previously asked for directions, came over to ask about my trip plans. He wandered off after a short chat, but about ten minutes later he returned with the most thoughtful care package imaginable… even more so given the poverty he was experiencing himself. Each item had been carefully chosen… an extra tie strap, an instant soup pack, juice crystals, protein bars, and a fruit cup. It made my day. 

An extra tie strap, an instant soup pack, juice crystals,  protein bars, and a fruit cup sitting on a picnic table.
Care package

A major challenge and time suck along the way has been organizing my bags effectively so that I can easily access what’s needed for the day… preferably without unpacking anything not needed. This is a huge pain… but after unpacking and repacking countless times, I think I’m getting better at it… I *really* hope I am! 

A few of my greatest joys so far: 

  • Washing my hair in an actual shower (rather than a sink) or on the beach (with biodegradable soap of course!)
  • Cold water
  • Monarch butterflies *everywhere*
  • Sleeping under the stars
  • Breakfast on a nearly empty beach the night after a big storm
A sandy beach, blue sky with a couple white clouds, and beautiful blue water. There are trees on Botha sides of the photo. There is almost no one on the beach.
My view during breakfast the night after a big storm
  • Countless convos with curious folx
  • Car Free Sunday (with live street music) in Kincardine
  • And randomly meeting Mike Darmon – a fellow active transportation advocate! 
Mike and I are standing in the foreground with my bike between and behind us. In the background is The Bruce Steakhouse.
Mike Darmon and I knew each other from Twitter, but hadn’t met before. He came over to ask about my bike. Both of us were enjoying live music at Kincardine’s Car Free Sunday!