When I paddled a long trip along the west coast of Sweden, I did it alone. That was one of the premises of that trip. Why?
The answer is many answers, and perhaps something that can’t be answered at all.
Quite practically, it was a long trip, planned to last two months. In the end it was somewhat shorter, but still extensive. Not many people I know can leave work, family and everything at home for that long.
Nor are there a lot people I can imagine being that close together with for that long. The few that might, probably can’t see themselves on a journey like this at all. It’s not a problem for me being on a trip with others – quite the opposite. I’m fine with trips anywhere from a weekend up to a couple of weeks being together with others – few or many, but it’s a different story when the trip is that long.
Kayaking alone
When you’re paddling with others, you naturally adjust to each other. Some rises early, others like to sleep in. Some drink coffee, some prefer tea, some are vegetarians and yet others swear by bacon, some want to sleep face down in the tent, others face up, and so on. On tour, it can be a trick to make it all fit together. The longer the trip, the harder it is.
That was one of the benefits of being alone. I was able to do whatever suited me: get up early, be quick to pack and unpack, eat and drink what I wanted, and least but not last decide for myself where and how far to paddle.
Packing doesn’t have to take forever
Especially when to get up in the morning and the time it takes to pack is often a problem for me when I’m hiking, climbing or paddling with others. I almost always wake up between 5am and 6am, and often sit for an hour or two waiting for the others to crawl out of their sleeping bags.
Years ago, when I was on many climbing trips with my climbing buddy Henrik, we practiced packing up quickly. Henrik and I agreed we simply didn’t want to spend a lot of time on that process, so we made a point of being able to get tent, sleeping bags, kitchen tools, climbing gear and everything else packed up as quickly as possible. We wanted more time for the other activities, even if it was just sitting in the sun with a cup of red wine. It’s stuck with me ever since, and I’m still good at getting packed quickly – often faster than the people I’m with. Then I sit again and wait for the others.
Food and planning
I’m a vegetarian. This can be a problem on trips with many participants and shared food. On some larger trips, we have been split into groups to take care of the various meals. I have occasionally found that those in charge of the shopping haven’t taken it seriously to make sure there was food that everyone could eat.
When planning the route, there are of course different opinions and desires about where and how far to paddle. Most of the time it is not a problem to find a solution everyone likes, but there are situations where one or the other has to compromise badly.
On the trips where I am alone, I have been able to get up when I wanted, leave when I wanted, eat what I wanted and paddle where I wanted. I’ve only had myself to disagree with – and ‘we’ have often and easily been able to find a good solution to disagreements.
The freedom of being alone
There is a kind of freedom in being alone, in not being limited by anything but yourself, and on a kayak trip, by the weather, the sea and the practicalities of the trip.
There is a schism for us humans, we thrive with others and usually long to have people around us, but being with others is also limiting.
The contexts in which we find ourselves have rules and laws, ways of being together, which are of course necessary. I’m not just referring to the official rules adopted by society at large, but more to the rules that enable the close group we are in to function, whether that group is a family, a collective, a school, a workplace or a group of people out kayaking. Rules that are both written and unwritten, rules that make human interaction work.
What can be a problem, whether in the small close group or, where it is probably most pronounced, in the large group we call society, is if someone usurps an authority. If someone asserts a form of authority, its legitimacy must always be questioned, and it is always the task of the authority to justify it – it is never for others to prove that it is not legitimate.
When you are alone, there are only your own rules and your own authority. No one imposes constraints, only you.
Silence
I didn’t speak much when I were paddling along the west coast of Sweden. The longest conversation I had in the five weeks was a few minutes at most. Occasionally there were been days when I didn’t utter a word at all.
You get into a different state when not using language as much as we do on a daily basis. Experiences become more near, closer, when you don’t put a layer of words over them.
It has not been real silence that I have been in. I’ve carried literature on the trip, I’ve written here on the blog, I’ve read the news, and of course I’ve talked to the people I met along the way.
On intensive yoga courses, such as the three-month course in Håå, I have experienced being in deep silence for up to 33 days on several occasions. It is a transformative experience that releases incredible resources in one’s being. The kayak trip has not been silence in quite that way, but it has been close, and I experienced getting closer to nature than if I were in a context with others.
It might be interesting to go on a trip to a place that is completely deserted, where there is no reading, no writing, no internet, and no one to talk to – a kayak trip where there is real silence all the time. No words, just the wilderness and the sea.
Alone
Do I have to be alone to be free?
I consider freedom to be a state of your inner being. A state of mind, aware of, but dethatched from external circumstances. As soon as you get involved in what you are experiencing around you, that state is gone. And one gets involved all the time, that’s clear, and not something to be avoided as such, but if one understands it, one can always return. It takes training, and for me, the tour has been part of that training.
The trip has been a search for freedom on many levels, a test of what freedom is, and a desire to simply be free from someone telling me what to do, what is the right way for me to live my life. It has been a way of returning to myself – not to what I am told is me.
I like to be alone.
