Reality Dreams

By Ashley R. Clarkson
1 August, 2003

"For I see now that I am asleep that I dream when I am awake." - Pedro Calderón de la Barca

The world has a different light just before dawn. Looking out over the top end of Lake Rotoroa, in the Nelson Lakes District, I certainly feel the peace and tranquillity of the area. Almost untouched by man, lush green temperate forest rushes up from the lakeside to greet the dry, almost barren slopes of the mountains which form a natural enclosure to my sanctuary on the lakeside. Far above the moon is still casting a gentle light onto the lake whilst many millions of stars twinkle above me to make their presence known. It is a strange feeling to be at the end of one journey, and to start another, but for the meantime, I just stand on 'my beach' and stare out at what nature has put on display for me for my last few minutes of physical and mental solitude. What an experience the past few days have been...

"I dare do all that may become a man; who dares do more is none." - Macbeth, I:vii

Intense emotional bonds. Sixteen young (and not so young) men sitting around a campfire at the opposite end of Lake Rotoroa, thirteen of them (including myself) shoring up the courage for what we are about to embark upon. For all our boisterousness we are all nervous and just a little frightened, and we all know that we all are. But that is the value of lasting friendships. Four days previously most of us had not seen each other in almost exactly a year, and like a hall light that always turns on faithfully we resumed our comradeship like we had never been apart. What do I recall of this evening? Apart from dinner by torchlight (in a bizarre and almost identical parody of the previous year's outdoor experience), singing songs by guitar around a fire (fire ban? What fire ban?) and plenty of hearty jokes all round there is really not much to recall in general. The images are burned into my mind like the fire we sat around that night...

"Out of sight, out of mind" - Proverb

The whole purpose of being dumped in the middle of nowhere for three nights and four days is to allow for soul searching. Take away comforts such as a watch, running water and 90% of the food you would normally eat in the same period, and you have a recipe for total relaxation. And I guess that is what you could say I did. From dusk until dawn (when the sand flies arrived) was the domain of sleep. For the rest of the day, the world was your oyster, or, at least, the small patch of beach you were dumped on was yours to do what you may. I spent most of my day walking back and forth between to rocks roughly 20 metres apart. Dismissing the obvious suggestion which would be that I liked to keep moving leaves remaining the more obvious answer - the sand flies could not annoy me if I was not stationary. Far from the timid variety found in most parts of the country, these particular pests took great pleasure from swarming around you. Wearing enough clothing and repellent was no deterrent to them, except that they would not bite you. The frustration at such petty annoyances may seem trivial now, but when all alone there can be not many more things that can prove frustrating. The constant hum was always to be heard from the nearby bush until after sundown, when the sand flies mysteriously disappeared to allow for sleep.

If there was one thing that walking aimlessly did, it is that it allowed me to think. Topics and subjects varied in scope and breadth. Some can't be remembered, others are private. For 10 hours a day I walked back and forth across my beach, as the weather varied between clouds, drizzle and clear sky, dwelling upon matters of mind that could be anything from mundane to challenging. The concept of Solo had succeeded, but it was a slightly different trigger which brought the desired effect into being. And when I looked back on the last afternoon, it was with fondness that I remembered walking back and forth between those two rocks.

"So I awoke, and behold it was a dream" - The Pilgrim's Progress, Pt. 1

Time takes on a different measure when you are alone in the middle of nowhere. Time does not race as you rush forward to and fro, trying to cram in as much as possible in the few remaining hours of the day. Life out in the bush is totally removed from this concept - time can advance quickly or crawl at a seemingly appalling rate. Standing there at the lakeside just a few minutes before dawn and my pickup, I found peace in solitude. A time of reflection and a short standing aside from life's reality dreams.