Hall of Fame

"Keeping a Clean Camp" I was looking over some of these posts again, and I got to thinking about the meaning of the phrase "Keep A Clean Camp". Obviously, it means to not throw trash and garbage on the ground. This sort of rule is far from generally recognized and accepted. There are plenty of people tramping and riding trains that have a very nearly completely unconcious attitude about how they live their lives. They just stumble through it, drinking, taking various kinds of drugs and spreading chaos and discontent wherever they wind up. These are the kinds of people who take a dump in boxcars. They not only don't care that some minimum-wage warehouseman is going to have to clean up their nasty mess, they actually get a sort of sick satisfaction at knowing that this is true. They have a "I don't give a fuck" attitude about everything, and everybody. They are not connected to the rest of the world. Like very small children, they have the idea that the only thing that matters is whatever their spoiled little heart desires at that particular moment. These are the people that go dumpster-diving and THROW ALL THE GARBAGE ON THE GROUND AND LEAVE IT THERE. What do you suppose happens when the store owner or restaurant owner comes out there and sees garbage all over the place? He starts hating tramps, and he LOCKS THE DUMPSTER. These are the guys who go into a restaurant, ask to use the bathroom, and then make a huge fucking mess in there, taking a bath in the sink, splashing water all over everywhere, stinking the place up, and THEN LEAVE THE BATHROOM ALL FUCKED UP. Obviously, as soon as the manager sees this disaster, he says "No more bathroom use for transients. Let them do it outdoors." "Keeping a clean camp" means more than just "don't throw trash on the ground." It means living your life in a way calculated to have dignity and respect. It means to grant these things to others, and to firmly, but politely, insist upon them for yourself. A crude, simplistic way of looking at this is the phrase "Don't shit where you eat." What that means is don't do things to gratify an immediate need that will screw you up in the future. But the DSWYE (pronounced "diss-wye") philosophy is strictly a self-serving, pragmatic measure. Keeping a clean camp encompasses an understanding that one has a moral obligation to live life in a certain way. All behavior is not equal. Just doing whatever is not okay. Life has rules, even for tramps and hobos. I have, on occasion, found myself out of money and hungry. It was rare, but it happened a few times. I went to a restaurant, asked to speak to the owner or manager, and waited politely in the entranceway. When the man came out, I asked him for a meal, and offered to sweep the parking lot or wash dishes in return. I got turned down several times, but I also got hired, right on the spot, as a dishwasher. It was no great shakes as a job (washing dishes in a truck stop in Wyoming is not exactly a career path I'd willingly choose) but it had more dignity than begging. The restaurant owner realized that I was trying to do the right thing, and he didn't disrespect me by just offering me a hamburger to "go away." I washed dishes, and got more food in return than I could possibly eat, plus a few bucks travelling money. But more than that, I still had my self respect. When you don't have your self-respect, you don't have anything, even if you are a millionaire. Keeping a clean camp includes keeping yourself squared away, as well. The filthy, stinking homeless wretches that one sees living under bridges or sleeping in dirt-encrusted rags on downtown streets are usually untreated schizophrenics. I'm talking about tramping with a little class. I always owned enough garments so that I could wash one set while wearing another. You can still do this, even if you don't have money for the laundomat. I carried a wooden-handled scrub brush (like one might scrub floors with) and would buy a small packet of laundry detergent at a Laundomat. Fill a plastic 5-gallon bucket with water, then add some detergent and immerse the over-alls or blue jeans in there, then scrub them on a clean piece of sidewalk or a flatbed deck, then rinse them under a faucet. I would wear clean, wet, over-alls and unlaced boots while I scrubbed the rest of my clothes, rinsed them under a faucet. One time I washed clothes at a car wash, just using the high-pressure hose to blast them. Only cost 50 cents. I got haircuts at barber colleges. Once or twice, I met another tramp (or a tramp's old lady) who knew how to cut hair. I took a spit bath out of a bucket or in a gas station bathroom sink every day. Just because you aren't rich doesn't mean that you should go around with ragged clothes. I know how to sew well enough to do my own repairs. I kept my clothes in good order, no rips, no tears, no holes worn through. And, in camp, I observed the normal, common-sense rules about fires. I cut my tripod sticks about four feet long (I eyeball the first stick, then use it to measure the other two) and I CLEAR A SPARK RADIUS AROUND THE FIRE RING THE LENGTH OF THE STICK. I clear the ground down to the dirt the length of the stick in every direction. I usually do it by laying the stick down and scuffing the leaves and trash away from the fire with my boots in a circle, but I pull up little weeds and branches if I can't scuff them, and use my saw if I can't pull them up. If I can find rocks, I build a fire ring. If I can't find rocks, I try to scoop out a hole or depression. (I am very careful about fire---if you accidentally set the woods on fire, you will be in DEEP SHIT, not to mention that the animals that live in the forest will be displaced or killed.) I never heed the call of nature where I am camping. If I wake up and need to piss, I don't do it there. I put on my boots and walk a ways off into the trees. I dig a little cat-hole a good distance from camp, to shit in, and cover my business. ("Don't shit where you eat.") I like creating jungles, in fact, it is one of my very favorite things in life. I enjoy all the various aspects of it--finding a good location, clearing a little living area, building a fire ring, setting up a tripod, finding another suitable can for a gunboat and making it. Once I get it all set up, and I'm enjoying living in it, I feel that same sense of satisfaction one gets from moving in to a new apartment. I stockpile wood for fires. I wash out 1-gallon wine jugs or 2-liter Coke bottles and fill them with water. I scrounge 5-gallon paint buckets for seats. I look for good "hammock trees." I gather cardboard and fold it so I can roll it up and put it in a 5-gallon bucket, then turn the bucket upside down so that the cardboard will stay dry if it rains. I scrounge newspapers, roll them into tight tubes and tie them with string, and put them under 5-gallon buckets, too. I dumpster-dive for useful stuff. I have found chairs and end-tables and footstools. Sometimes I find big sheets of plastic that I can make a "tent" with. And when I leave the jungle, I mark it on my map and in my memory so I can find it again. I leave it clean and squared away. I burn all my trash, then I make sure my fire is out--"Dead Out." I leave the tripod in a bush close by the fire ring. I fill the jugs with water. I sometimes leave a note or a little change for the next guy. I keep a Clean Camp. I think everybody ought to. Doing so has dignity, and respect.