Bridge Project Update

I haven't talked about my senior thesis project in a while. Consider yourself lucky, because up until now it would have been crabby complaints about making meetings and writing papers.

The honeymoon phase (of I HAVE A RESEARCH PROJECT! BATS YAY!) quickly transitioned into the mire of bureaucracy involved with anything university-related. Which is not unexpected, so it's fine (although my lack of sleep and stress level might disagree. . . ) Also, I am truly enjoying the study design aspect of the project. I like the challenge of the research and planning side of it--soon I will find out if I like the boots-on-the-ground part just as much.

Maybe not quite like this.

I suspect my field surveys will come with their own frustrations and rewards and decisionmaking. For instance, I honestly need an assistant. I need help navigating to the bridge sites while I drive, and for someone to hold the spotlight while I search for bats, etc. I could ask the student chapter of the Wildlife Society for volunteers, but I quickly realized that bringing strangers out on field excursions would be a whole new can of worms--having to worry about someone else's comfort, gear, food, and general well-being. I don't mind pushing myself to miserable limits, but torturing someone else is another story.

(Aside: Holy crap, an operation the size of the Bear Crew is suddenly horrifying and unimaginable).

STAHP! THINK OF THE LIABILITY!

 So here's the plan: drive around all day long, stopping to examine bridges closely for bat sign, checking every little crevice and cranny. Repeat for 5-10 more days. Take a day or two off for caving or hiking. Repeat as necessary for the summer's duration.

Now, this may not sound too fun or exciting. But it's like a treasure hunt for bats, where either outcome (finding them or not) will be useful information. I will be driving on Forest Service land, which means I get to spend many of these days in the woods. Perhaps I'll take a short hike break for lunch, or I'll camp out in the woods and go for an evening hike after my work is done. Roving across the countryside, camping out where I like, perhaps sleeping in the bed of the truck.

Without said volunteer, it will be a lone wolf sort of operation. But. ..  it sounds a little romantic, a little lonely, a lot of fun.

Like this! I mean, except under the bridge. . .

That's more like it.

 Just a few more weeks to finalize everything. . . cross all the fingers for me!

-Batgirl

Riding Solo

The older I get, the more often I seem to run into a particular barrier with my adventuring. Occasional day trips are one thing, but planning multi-day, complicated trips is quite another. I'm pretty sure there must be a mathematical equation somewhere that calculates the percentage of difficulty as multiplied by number of people coming on the trip.

And it looks something like this.

That's right--14 people is 20,000%. Actually, that doesn't sound too far off. . .

Anyway, this leads me to something I've been pondering. When it comes to getting out and doing things, I am a social outdoorswoman--I like to have company. However, I greatly prefer getting out and doing something fun by myself than sitting home bored.

That's my Bessie!

I first began to run into this problem with my motorcycling. I can rarely find anyone else to take trips with; therefore I spent a lot of time riding alone last summer. I was fine with it, although my mother probably gained a few new stress lines. When I broke down (once!) I was reliant on total strangers to help me out.

I was assisted by some amazing people in getting her running again, at least enough to limp home.If I had ridden with a partner, at the very least they could have given me a lift somewhere when I broke down, so of course, I was vulnerable riding alone (not to mention safety in numbers/visibility). I know these risks, and have decided to continue riding solo anyway.

Now, as I am slowly becoming a more experienced hiker, I am confronted by the same decision. Where do I draw the line with solo adventures?

I would love to say that my being a young woman has nothing to do with it--and it doesn't very often, but it does make me pause to think on occasion. On a recent camping trip with friends, some random strangers joined our group, got drunk and rowdy and hit on me pretty hard. I was okay with my friends there, but it was an interesting reminder that even out in the woods where you don't expect to run into people, you certainly can.

And then you can always push them into fires!

But no, my mind is less dominated by fears of hillbillies hiding behind trees, and more of twisting an ankle, facing off with a mountain lion/bear, or simply getting lost and facing exposure (most likely option). 

People like Aron Ralston are widely criticized--after the fact at least--for going out alone on their trips. But if they chose not to go alone, and waited for companions to be free to join them, they probably wouldn't be having those adventures at all. Ralston should have left a note then, they say, but I ask you, who would have been able to free him even if they had found him? One way or another that arm was coming off.

They're hungry for your arms. . .

And yet, if I backpack in the wilderness alone, even after informing friends and family (select ones anyway) if something goes wrong, I would be another Aron. Labeled an idiot, maybe even deserving of what I get.

It is a balance of risk versus reward. Is it worth it?

I know my decision about my motorcycle already. But as I tackle bigger things, I do have to remind myself to ask, where do I draw the line?