The light from the full moon barely illuminates the dust getting kicked up in the rear-view mirror as I drive down some mountain road around the base of Mt. Savanna. It’s roughly 1 AM, which explains the dryness in my eyes and the exhaustion of the week as I finally reach the coordinates found on a terribly-written website of this campsite that I can not wait to reach. I have my mountain bike in tow of my beat-up ‘05 Tacoma, and my still camera kit sits in the backseat. I have $259 of cash in my pocket and no plans, no credit cards, and hopefully no cell service for the next 6 days.