During the
week that Lyle and I spent on the Sunshine Coast, the weather was perfect. It was great weather for camping and Lyle and
I had decided to tent. We both enjoy the
tenting experience but we are also the first to admit that we are fair weather
campers. This past week, the weather
could not have been better.
One night as
we sat around our campfire, Lyle and I began reminiscing about some of our more
memorable tenting experiences. We remembered the tenting trip we had taken on
the way back to Alberta after visiting our daughter in Ontario. Of the eight
nights we spent in our tent, there was rain on every one of them. On one night
we were caught on the edge of a tornado. On another night there was a massive
thunder and lightning storm breaking a drought of the previous forty days.
Still, we
have had many good times and we continue to tent. Nevertheless, for me there
are also some sight challenges. Usually the biggest difficulty is finding my
way from our own campsite to and from the comfort station or outhouse. I can think of one night in particular that
stands out in this regard.
We had
arrived at our campground late and were assigned the last available site. It was the least desirable of all the sites
for many reasons, one of which was the distance from the comfort station. Before
we tucked into our sleeping bags, Lyle and I practiced the route from tent to
comfort station just in case I needed to get up during the night. As it turned
out, this was indeed what happened.
Around five in
the morning I crept out of the tent in the predawn light. It was easy enough to
find my way downhill to the well-lit washroom block but coming back to our
little tent in the semi dark was a different story. Not only that, unknowingly I had exited the
building using a different door from the one where Lyle and I had practiced and
counted my steps the night before.
In the early
morning hours, I hadn’t gone far when I realized I was lost. Of course, the
smart thing to do would have been to retrace my steps immediately. I didn’t and continued to become more and more
disoriented. It would have made no
difference whether or not I had been using my white cane. A cane only works if you have some idea of
where you are going. In addition, at
five in the morning, there was nobody around to see the cane and so assist me
with directions.
The story
does have a happy ending. Eventually,
after many minutes of aimless wandering, I found my way back to the comfort
station and tried again, this time from the appropriate exit door. I counted my steps and almost by accident
spotted the bright orange tarp at our camp site and crawled back into the tent.
I might add that when the first half hour had gone by, Lyle did miss me. The
problem as he later explained it was that although he knew I had been gone
longer than I should have been, he had no idea of where to begin looking for
me.
I suppose
that in a way, someone who can see could have a similar misadventure. The
difficulty for someone who is blind or who has limited sight is that we are
unable to see the print markers and other directional signs that sighted people
are able to use for a reference.
The picture
below shows me kneeling beside our tent where we camped on the Sunshine Coast.
I didn’t get lost here, but I was hoping that there wouldn’t be a bear on the
track between our tent and the shower block. That’s another thing that I might
not be able to see in time!
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| Sue in front of her tent |
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