Under the stars (Week 25)
"These woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep."
The words of Robert Frost sound softly in my ear whenever I venture into a forest. Even more so when I'm pitching a tent there for the night. And so, as my son Nic and I ventured 1,000 miles by bicycle from Victoria to San Francisco with many more miles to go every time we set up camp, the calm restfulness of the woods called out to us night after night.
The campsites were as varied as the roads we traversed each day. One was close to the Oregon oceanfront, with rolling waves lulling us to sleep. Another was down the coast by giant dunes, with distant dune buggies creating a sleep-inducing drone of their own. One was in the middle of California's Redwood Forest, surrounding us with towering giants that slumbered as quietly as we did. It was a magical week.
The outdoors call to us, and it seems perfectly natural to simply erect a temporary shelter that brings us in intimate contact. But it isn't that way for everyone. Val has a set of drink coasters that proudly boast "I love not camping!" I've also heard some clever wit describe sleeping bags as the perfect soft taco for bears. So getting in touch with our prehistoric past by sleeping under the stars might take a little convincing for some.
Let's start building the argument with the many proven health benefits of sleeping outside. For one thing, you rely more on natural light to regulate your sleep patterns. When it's dark, you sleep. When it's light, you wake. There's also the air quality issue. Why be in a home surrounded by who-knows-what chemicals in your walls, floors and windows when you could be in a pristine environment breathing nothing but pure air and maybe catching the occasional waft of 21-year-old feet. Sleeping outside is also known to reduce or even eliminate stress, and I can certainly attest to that one.
In a world filled with sensory bombardments, disconnecting by sleeping outside is one way we can get back to what is elemental about us. And we know this to be true. In a study conducted by REI, 73% of people reported feeling liberated when sleeping outside, while a full 85% felt that outdoor sleeping improved their mental and physical health.
Another thing I love about sleeping outdoors is the preparation leading up to it. For Nic and me, that meant pedalling an average of 50 miles (80k) a day, and then setting up camp. I love that ritual, the sameness of it, the self-sufficiency and the slow easing toward the tent after a hearty dinner, some great father and son chats, and the gradual lowering of the eyelids until I drop into my sleeping bag completely ready for the task at hand. For me, they are the most rejuvenating sleeps imaginable, restoring the lost energy from physical exertion and renewing my spirit for the next day's long trek.
Sleeping outside also allows you to fully explore all your senses. We stayed up on July the 4th listening to the pop and whizz of fireworks. I almost always awoke to the sounds of birds chirping in the woods. Close to the ocean, we could smell the salt air and shellfish at low tide. In the forest, it was the dense and musky scent of trees, ferns and loamy ground. Every night presented us with new sights, from rippling streams that tumbled past our campground to sunsets over an ocean that stretched away beyond the horizon.
These are all unforgettable to me now.
NEXT WEEK: Spending every minute of every day with my son!
The words of Robert Frost sound softly in my ear whenever I venture into a forest. Even more so when I'm pitching a tent there for the night. And so, as my son Nic and I ventured 1,000 miles by bicycle from Victoria to San Francisco with many more miles to go every time we set up camp, the calm restfulness of the woods called out to us night after night.
The campsites were as varied as the roads we traversed each day. One was close to the Oregon oceanfront, with rolling waves lulling us to sleep. Another was down the coast by giant dunes, with distant dune buggies creating a sleep-inducing drone of their own. One was in the middle of California's Redwood Forest, surrounding us with towering giants that slumbered as quietly as we did. It was a magical week.
The outdoors call to us, and it seems perfectly natural to simply erect a temporary shelter that brings us in intimate contact. But it isn't that way for everyone. Val has a set of drink coasters that proudly boast "I love not camping!" I've also heard some clever wit describe sleeping bags as the perfect soft taco for bears. So getting in touch with our prehistoric past by sleeping under the stars might take a little convincing for some.
Let's start building the argument with the many proven health benefits of sleeping outside. For one thing, you rely more on natural light to regulate your sleep patterns. When it's dark, you sleep. When it's light, you wake. There's also the air quality issue. Why be in a home surrounded by who-knows-what chemicals in your walls, floors and windows when you could be in a pristine environment breathing nothing but pure air and maybe catching the occasional waft of 21-year-old feet. Sleeping outside is also known to reduce or even eliminate stress, and I can certainly attest to that one.
In a world filled with sensory bombardments, disconnecting by sleeping outside is one way we can get back to what is elemental about us. And we know this to be true. In a study conducted by REI, 73% of people reported feeling liberated when sleeping outside, while a full 85% felt that outdoor sleeping improved their mental and physical health.
Sleeping outside also allows you to fully explore all your senses. We stayed up on July the 4th listening to the pop and whizz of fireworks. I almost always awoke to the sounds of birds chirping in the woods. Close to the ocean, we could smell the salt air and shellfish at low tide. In the forest, it was the dense and musky scent of trees, ferns and loamy ground. Every night presented us with new sights, from rippling streams that tumbled past our campground to sunsets over an ocean that stretched away beyond the horizon.
These are all unforgettable to me now.
NEXT WEEK: Spending every minute of every day with my son!
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