The Hungry Barbarian

So I am indeed alive.

While its a beautiful day out, needless to say I haven’t left the house much. I have a sun rash which needs some time to clear up, and along with the dizziness its best I properly give my body time to heal. I’ve spent more than enough time outside this week and I think a day off on the couch being pampered is duly needed. Besides for the first time in a week I smell somewhat decent and I don’t want to ruin that.

While it was a tough go, the first meal of the day, the egg sandwich, did stay down. There were some intestinal effects, as others predicted, but it was well well worth it. If not the best breakfast I’ve ever had, though it was damn good, it was definitely the most cherished.

More importantly though for the first time in a week I had three square meals, drank something other than water, and haven’t thought of mussels in hours. There was a time (yesterday) when they were haunting my dreams.

I’m taking the rest of the night off, to try and get the soot out of my hands, but I’ll be back up and running tomorrow. There is a lot of stuff to tie up, like my thoughts on some of the comments that came in. Oh, I definitely have a few favorites, so prepare to be mocked.

So until then, enjoy your bed, because I know I’ll be enjoying mine.

I really don’t have much to say, this has been a mind numbing day at best. Hearing my sister pray for good weather so she can jump in the water is great (she doesn’t get many days off from work), but that only occupies the mind so much; I just want this to be over.  I’m trying to do whatever I can to pass the time, but no matter what my mind wanders back to the agonizingly close finish line.   Is this how a marathon runner feels?  I’ll never know because I’ll never be doing that.  Its just stupid.

See, I know irony.

Even on this last day though Nature has the last laugh.  Despite the mist, clouds and rain, I planned on an easy straightforward day, so I made enough food this morning for both breakfast and dinner.  My day should have been set.  

After finishing the first half, I covered the pot and set it on the table safe and sound.  I would be set for tonight and go to bed full.  

Laying down for a nap, I thought all was right in my world, but a loud clatter proclaimed otherwise.

This is the scene I came upon:

Who could the culprit be?

I was torn between murdering my dog, murdering then eating my dog, or murdering my dog and then braising it along with the tomatoes, onions and garlic to make a fine stew.  Tough options.  The latter two in particular were high on my list as they fit the theme of this week.  Plus I’m hungry.  

In a fit of benevolence however I decided upon a third course: the dog would live.  

Instead I’m going to go hungry this last night in order to honor Nature, this entire adventure but most importantly, irony.  Without it, I wouldn’t be laughing (or crying).  

I couldn’t have scripted a better finish.   

I figure today is going to be a mellow day, which is fine by me; my body and mind have already taken far to much abuse for my liking.  It’s been a battle to light any sort of fire, but that should be about it.  I’m pretty much counting down the minutes at this point…or the best appromixamation on my sundial:

However I wanted to give everyone a heads up that I’ll be blogging for the rest of the week as a wrap-up.  I want to look back at some of my favorite comments, posts that never went up and some other stuff as well.  Obviously I’ll have pictures tomorrow, likely of me  stuffing an egg sandwich down my maw two at a time.

Additionally, I’m already thinking ahead to my next adventure.  While my family and friends will likely chastise me for even putting the thought out there, frankly life is too boring, and this too interesting, to not plan another great escapade.  There seems to be a loyal readership following my travels and it would be a shame to not include you as well.  

So if you’re interested, shoot me an email (hungbar at gmail.com), and I’ll put together a list.  Otherwise there is an automated email subscription list on the right sidebar.  Obviously it will only be used for this site, no spam or anything of that sort.  I just figured we’ve gotten to know each other (you by reading, me through your comments) and it would be a shame to let that die.

So if you’re interested let me know; I’ll be hungrily waiting.  

Oh yea, I rule the cheesy puns!

So my cousin Vincent turned 16 today and his younger brother Nicky turns 12 next month. As avid readers, and cheerleaders, of the Barbarian, that deserves a special mention. Hell anyone who writes the following comment has a special place in the Barbarian’s heart…and stomach:

If you were to do another man vs. wild event, i would follow it as closely as i followed this week’s. I am sad that the week is over, but i am happy for you to get some real food to eat. i was just telling my dad today that when i grow up to be your age, i want to do an event just like this. It is just too exciting of an event to pass up.

The Hungry Barbarian: “Shaping tomorrow’s youth and undermining today’s parents, the world over.”

Apparently some members who have been following the blog (i.e. the less intelligent ones) are freaking out over the fact that I have garlic.  It seems they are implying I obtaining it through dubious means.  While generally I’d let accusations like this go and settle it afterwards, its my last day and I want it to be a nice pleasant one.  

So if you will draw your attention to the aftermath of my night ops raid you will see that I came back with not two, but three varieties of vegetables: tomatoes, onions and garlic.  All this was clearly documented.  

When I got to the farm, I grabbed a bit of everything; Augustus Gloop let loose in the Wonka factory.  I wasn’t going back, nor was I going hungry anymore, anything I could get my hands on was going in the bag.  

The sad part is, its not even good garlic.  But when you’ve got nothing, something is always better.  And anything is better than mussels, I do mean anything.    

I know that from experience.  

Last night, as one of the commentators noted, was a cold night dropping down into the 50’s.  While in the past that wouldn’t be an issue, I had a nice coat of insulation, the sleeping bag that doesn’t zipper made me constantly battle between making the ground tolerable or being cold.  I miss my pudge already.

By the way, the ground I’m on is one of the worst sleeping surfaces I’ve ever been on.  Even worse than couch beds which have that lovely bar that goes right into your lower back.  It only took me 7 days, but I finally realized that tree roots criss cross the grass where my tent is.  My neck is so stiff I can barely turn it, limiting my peripheral vision, meaning I have to turn my whole body to look left and right.      

In addition, my hands smell like a combination of conch, killies and mussels.  With them in my face all night its like something out of my worst food nightmare.  

Naturally I haven’t been sleeping well.

Last night I woke up in the middle of a dream, a particularly strange one.  Have you ever seen Super Troopers?  If not you’re missing out.  There is one character in particular, Farva, who made an appearance in a dream last night.  Here’s my favorite Farva segment.

In the dream, he told of his first instance of getting to where he is today (chubby and bitter).  A young Farva was at a friend’s BBQ and decided that he liked the sausages so much he was going to take two home with him.  When he got back however he didn’t want his father to see them, so the fridge was out.  He improvised by cutting a small hole in a couch cushion and placing them in there.  Later on he went back and noshed away.

There’s nothing symbolic in that dream.  Nope, nothing at all.  

I now dread the night.

Soon after I passed out last night, I woke back up to my entire tent being fully lit scaring the crap out of me.  

Martians?  CIA?  Farmers wanting revenge?  Would they kill me over a few onions?  

Unfortunately it was soon obvious that the thunderstorm had finally arrived.

So today would be a quiet day in comparison to yesterday’s Delta squad raid on the local farm.  With the rain clouds still dark on the horizon  in the morning, I knew it was going to be a full day of reading in my 4×6 tent.

Once upon a time a fire-pit full of water and a soaked wood pile, would have made me alternate between weeping and yelling in frustration until the neighbors called the cops:

But not today!  I could care less as I was dining on the breakfast of champions:

Slices of tomato layered with fresh onions is priced at about $8+ at Peter Luger’s steakhouse in NYC; the only cost for this meal was my dignity.

When done, I felt the most unbelievable sensation. I was full. So full in fact that I couldn’t finish the one onion and one tomato that I had sliced up. For a man who had once downed 60+ McDonald’s chicken nuggets in one sitting, this blew my mind. Was I dreaming? For the first time in 6 days, I was actually full. For a minute I had though that sensation was indigestion, because it was so foreign.  I likely had a bit of that as well.

Immediately afterwards I had to batten down the hatches and jump back into my tent because the heavens decided to ruin my victory parade. Looks like I’d be spending the rest of the day alternating between reading and staring at the ceiling of my tent, a full time hobby.  My family on the other hand was inside dining on a Father’s Day feast of pasta, fresh bread, ricotta and homemade cake.  That’s was ok as I only had 2 days left and enough solid food to tough it out.  At this point I’d take my situation over theirs.

I might be lying.

Soon after their dinner was over though, the sun came out and promised to give me enough time to have the first hot meal that didn’t cause me to gag (specifically mussels) in days. Today would be the leftovers from breakfast with some garlic thrown in:

Along with that I boiled an onion. There was so much food I didn’t have enough room on the grill!  Holy Cow!

It turned out to be good, so good that both grandfathers reached in and grabbed a taste.  I guess they weren’t full from dinner. I could share though; I had eaten breakfast for the first time since I started this madness and couldn’t even touch the boiled onion as it would have burst my stomach.   It seems I had breakfast for tomorrow.

Tomorrow by the way is the last day of my adventure.  Despite accusations of stupidity from my parents (and my girlfriend’s), there’s no turning back now.  I smell, I’m tired, but I’m going to make it.    

I just have to keep my eye on the prize, tough to do when the Crave is calling me.