Is it Really Camping if You Didn't Pee in the Forest in the Dead of Night?

On tiny Moto camping, kismet, and cougar pee...in which the author is a woman of a certain age with an unpredictable bladder (and NOT unusual sexual exploits). ;)

The Machine

I was perusing Facebook Marketplace looking for a rattan sofa for my back porch paradise when I came across a Juki industrial sewing machine. If you've ever used a Juki, you'll understand where I'm about to go. I promise, we'll go camping in a minute.

I SWORE I'd never sew another stitch when I walked away from the family business. Like, never again! But gee, I've always wanted a Juki and the price was right. I had no idea what to make with it, but suddenly I missed sitting at the machine with a glass of wine and a radio show like Hometown Heroes or Prairie Home Companion, and that settled it. Impulsive, I know.

The Tiny Moto:

Yamaha TW 200's are a gift of giggles and gentle exploration. They are also a cult classic like VW Micro Buses or Vanagons, and Steve and I had just been given two. Well, we traded for a vintage trailer really, but I think we got the better end of the deal. Thanks Dad! :) That said, planning semi-epic trip on a tiny Moto is no tiny task.

I don't like the idea of modifying motorcycles much, because I think they're sexy naked, as designed. Ours came slightly modified, but still sexy. The TW's aren't much for speed or power, but they make a pretty good mule for camping gear...with the right bags.

Steve, an expert rider, doesn't like paved roads and I, a novice rider, don't like black diamond trails, but we both like camping. Compromise is what marriage is about, right? I have a skill, and now a machine, and more importantly, a creative inspiration. This is awesome, because I haven't felt inspired in a while.

The Challenge:

Motorcycles behave differently when transitioning from pavement, to gravel, to dirt to sand, to ruts, rocks and even pine-cones. And never underestimate a passing jackrabbit, cow, or deer. Even more surprising, yesterday's cattle haul to higher ground, seriously, that shit can be slippery.

Add to that, a few days worth of camping gear and supplies. Water, food, and fuel are heavy and these are corners you should not cut. Tools either. Incidentally, these items will throw you into a ditch, or a bank if you don't balance the load. Lower and centered is always better.

I found some bags out in the barn, but the trails of choice were not a good match. Breaking traction on a downslope with a high load of a top box-style is shifty and gives me anxiety. Solution (without modifying the Moto)................ the Tootle U................ and a set of mini tank panniers from the Rev Pack Barn.......................laugh if you will, but I pleasantly surprised even myself.

To be clear, I'm keenly aware of companies like Giant Loop, Aerostitch, and Wolfman, among others. I just don't have a budget for that. They're great, but this is a personal challenge, and an inspiring one at that.

Gear Check:

Things that steal my joy: being hungry, cold, thirsty, wet, hot, lost, tired, broken, and sometimes sober. Enter the food, cook kit, tent, bag, mylar bivvy, rain gear, first aid, water nalgenes, fuel bladder (I did buy this from Giant Loop), flask, clean underwear, and a toothbrush, two if your husband has agreed to come along.

The Bags:

Must not touch the high exhaust, moving parts, electrical, or hydraulic components. I know racks and heat shields are available, but my goal is no mods or additions.

Must be wide enough for a standard two person tent, all of the above mentioned camping accouterments, and low enough and back far enough for you to be on and off the seat with no surprises.

And Voila!

This little blueberry along with the ancient panniers accommodated everything on the packing list and held together beautifully. Zero settling, zero shifting, and zero Moto modifications. Hey, it's a start. :)

Going Solo:

Steve had to work, but the weather was near perfect, and and this adventure was tugging at my heart. I had done an epic solo Moto trip just out of high school, and with family not needing my attention anymore, I wanted to check my big girl abilities and overcome some fears I had not noticed that snuck into my mind.

I would say "make haste", but the little Tootaloo really only goes 55mph tops. So to avoid main roads and traffic, I weaved my way through farm roads.

I'm not tiny, but I chose this tiny moto because I tend to ride solo and at my age, I can still comfortably pick it up, should I do something silly. Injuries are getting harder to recover from. The drawback in this case is that its a much longer journey from civilization to civilization, having indulged in that third cup of coffee, and there are no restroom possibilities in sight. Farms are wonderful in just such an "emergency" and provide truly clean restrooms for the labor. To be clear, though, emergency rest stops like mine are truly frowned upon.

Having wound my way up Bodfish Road through Lake Isabella and Kernville, I wondered if I was asking too much of this "giggle on wheels" to make the trip over Sherman Pass to Fish Camp on that hot day. I would decide this over a beer and a build-yer-own sandwich from Freemont Deli and my paper map purchase from Kern River Fly Shop. This was a great stop to regroup. I could throw a stone at the Kern River rushing by.

Anxiety, Altitude Sickness and Other Convos in My Head.

"Check the load and send it," I decided. Several discoveries were made with this decision. 1) 9200 feet elevation will make your fingers tingle and take your breath away when your comfort bubble is on a sofa at 1000 feet elevation. 2) The previous days cattle haul to higher ground taught me new riding skills. 3) When did my chain get so tight? 4) Fish Creek Camp is apparently the only campground in the Sequoias, because EVERYONE was there!

Six hours from Taft to Fish Creek Campground and I was tired. I found a great site among some rocks overlooking more rocks with the sound of a creek and proceeded to build my tent. I crawled in and listened to ALLLL of my neighbors, their music playlists, the myriad of childhood memories of camping, and the value of camping with the family...all of them. If I had to bet, I'd say that those COVID stimulus checks were spent at Walmart on camping accouterments to make campfire stories more comfortable.

I don't remember when I fell asleep, but I woke up starving for air. I have experienced altitude sickness at a much higher elevation and a panic attack for no reason whatsoever, but this experience didn't tick the necessary boxes of either experience. So I took some Benadryl.

Everything was so quiet in the forest at night. I wondered if all of my neighbors could hear me as clearly as I could hear them.

Know what Benadryl does? It makes you have to pee in the dead of night, like wrestle with your tent zippers and wiggle out of your comfy cocoon more quickly than you can find your headlamp, but quietly though, so ALLLL of the neighbors don't hear.

I...saw...something...in the dark...while...I was trying...to pee...! I reached for my light, but remembered I left it behind in the tent, with the bear spray, of course. Having watched Jurassic Park with my kids a thousand or so times, I planned to stay still. Maybe it wouldn't see me. I felt compromised though, with my granny panties around my knees, evacuating my bladder at deafening decibels and I was amazed by my own ability to turn and scale an awkward collection of slab and boulders back to the tent before something (or nothing) ate me, all without waking the neighbors...except for peeing in the forest in the dead of night. Now I was really out of breath. And now my neighbors were stirring. Maybe they have to pee too.

I decided to sleep until the sun baked me out, fiddle with the bike chain adjustment and tootle around the area until the sun went down. Many folks that evening were unable to find a campsite and the campground was overflowing. I felt a little guilty just me and my TDub occupying a whole site.

As I was preparing for my last trip of the evening to the vault toilets down the road, a van pulled into my spot and just sat there apparently curious about the lonely little bike sitting in the dark. I knew they had already driven a long way, because this place is a long way from anywhere. I offered to let them move in since I was leaving in the morning anyway. They were stoked and asked about the bike and pointed to the back of the van and sure as shit, there were two TW200's on the back of that van. Like kismet, I just met the coolest people on the planet with the same enthusiasm for these little motos. I was delighted to share the site with these adventurous millennials.

Morning brought the the sunrise and a forest full of conversations over camp coffee. For my part, next time I will choose a different crowd level and location, but I learned a lot about what brings people out here and I'm so glad to have been here in this moment in time.