Leaving the Toys Behind
Nothin' beats nothin' for an ultralight minalimist
“Nice to meet you. I’m gonna build a fire in a little bit if you want to come over.” Such a nice gesture and I think I will! About the same age as me. Has an accent. Driving an unusual looking vehicle. Check, check, check. All good conversation starters and things I’d like to know more about. I’ve got nothing else on my agenda, and it’s getting dark, so why the heck not? It’s not that cold, but that’s really not what it’s all about.
I’ve been to hundreds of different campgrounds in my life, and they all are kind of laid out the same. Can we have some creativity here, please? You pass an entrance station with a sign conveying such important facts like fees, time limits, fire restrictions, quiet hours, etc. Further in, there’ll be a fork in the road. Go right. Don’t head left for it’s a one way loop. There’ll be campsites on the left and on the right. Some golden, other’s suck the golden goose egg. This one deep. That one shallow. Noisy. Quiet. The one over there has good shade, but that one there is getting blasted with sun. Find your one of choice, or at least the best one available, or maybe the only one available, pull in and the food storage bin will be off to one side not too far from the picnic bench. Campfire ring somewhere close by too. Find your site number, go pay at the kiosk, and put your little dealy-bob receipt on the clip on the pole. Wa la. You’re ready to camp.
Most of the time, you’ll be with friends, family, or a combination of both. But sometimes, you may be solo. Like me, on this particular weekend. My wife gave the a-OK for time away from home as she thankfully so often does. Sweet! Thank you! I love my wife. But I had to make it fast and easy, for this was spontaneous. Weekend plans changed late in the week which opened up the golden doors of opportunity. To get moving out the door, I had to pack light. Minimalism to the rescue, all the made easier since this would be a solo trip. But I had no worries about getting lonely…
I read in a book about bike touring that your rig is a prop. And this prop makes it really easy to meet people. Kind of like when you’re walking a cute little puppy, you attract a lot of attention. You roll a 70 pound rig on a touring bike up to a market in any town, big, small, or indifferent, the fact that you’re not in a car will attract attention. Random people may gravitate towards you like your gear is magnetized, asking where you came from and where you’re going to.
Do the same thing with a carbon fiber bike with an ultralight overnight sleep kit stuffed into a small compression sack tucked under your saddle as you roll into a campsite hundreds of miles from home, same thing. People want to know how the heck you can be so far away from home without having all the stuff that they had brought on their trip. Who is this guy and what’s his deal? Like the campground host who asks “but where’s all your stuff?” And then they give you that broad smile because they’ve never seen such minimal luggage before.
Now take those same situations where you are rolling into that same mini mart in that same town but this time in an SUV or a sedan and you don’t have much to talk about. These things are magnetless. But throw in a weird looking toy, or hardly any toys at all, and you’ve got the start of a unique conversation.
So back to the campground. Here I was at dusk with my tiny little stove sitting all by it’s lonesome on the huge tracks of land of an otherwise empty picnic table. Got my spoon at the ready. My dinner sits in a pouch next to me. My headlamp will tell me when the steam starts rising if my ears don’t hear the bubbles first. While I wait, I read all the chicken scratch that’s etched into the planks of the table. BR loves CT? Awesome. I was wondering when BR would finally see the light.
Looking up and down the “street” at the other campsites, I see tents, chairs, portable BBQs, shower pop-ups, giant tarps strung between trees, bikes, fishing poles, coolers, lanterns, free standing stoves, two-burner stoves, large propane tanks, RVs, camper vans, pop up trailers. I hear generators, an air compressor blowing something up, axes chopping wood, kids playing, music going, zippers a-zipping, guys a-burpin’, kids a-tootin’, and a far off dog yapping at a marmot. And here I sit with only my little itty bitty stove and spoon listening for tiny little bubbles in an otherwise empty site. Sound lonely? Or a little depressing? But ah hah, my friends, therein lies the trick. My nothingness was better than any other gear I could have packed to make my night more entertaining. My itty bitty stove was all I needed. It was the essential ingredient. A simple single lonesome prop that attracted the attention of my neighbor. “Is that all you’ve got?”
The conversation that night around the campfire was super cool. Chill guy, hot fire, warm toes. Through and through our conversation, which lasted for hours, was a really nice way to spend the evening before crawling back to my car to hit the sack in ultralight style. Big day tomorrow.
In retrospect, I figured it was almost guaranteed that under the exact same circumstances, if I had insulated myself at that same campsite with things like my own stack of firewood, a giant kitchen, a big folding chair, a six pack of beer, a 3 person tent to one side, a big food bin on the table, and a portable, battery operated, 3 speed, multi-functional, 1000 watt, collapsible, bluetooth whirly gig sitting next to me on the top of a table cloth covered picnic bench covered with stoves, pots, pans, lanterns, plates, forks, knives, and a ketchup bottle crammed up next to my game of Solitaire, I wouldn’t have gotten to know my neighbor.
Yes, some would call these props too, but they’d too similar to everyone else’s props scattered around the campground and I’d blend into the scenery too much. Instead it would’ve been far off stares from next door from a guy who would’ve been wondering where he can get a bluetooth whirly gig like that. His isn’t bluetooth. Better not ask me though. I’d have had my ear buds in. Besides, I’d surely be building my own fire soon. No need to invite me over to sit and chill in front of his.
“That’s all you’ve got?” is usually the lead in question. That’s what they’ll ask. Think up a good response. Whether you're on a bike, in a campground, or on arrival at an airport and getting in a taxi, it’s what you may hear as an ultralight minimalist traveler. “That’s different” the taxi driver may think. “Maybe I’ll break from my normal practice and try to strike up a conversation with this guy. I bet he’d have something interesting to say.”
The people you’ll want to end up talking with are the same ones that’ll ask you thoughtful questions. They’re the curious, the inquisitive, the interesting. They’ll be more likely to express their thoughts, opinions, and feelings, more so than the other people you see in the mini mart parking lot after getting out of your standard issue pickup truck. Next thing you know, you might just be into a full blown conversation. You may have just made a new friend.
For some, the prop is a mohawk. For others it might be a cute little puppy. Bumper stickers? Yes, for some. But for me, it’s being an ultralight minimalist. In a single word, my prop is…nothing. And that’s so much easier to pack than any other type of prop out there for an instant conversation starter.
