...I Wake Up

I wake up and I know something is wrong. I’m on my back; the blankets are pulled securely to my neck and under my chin, and wrapped around my body like an Egyptian Pharaoh prepped for the afterlife. My head rests firmly in the pillow like it must have been all night, and even more bizarre I’m aligned correctly on the bed; my head near the head, my feet near the foot.

Something is not right. No naked leg draped over the side of the bed exposed to the winter chill of the midnight air in my frozen bedroom. No blankets and pillow piled on the floor where I normally toss them at night, immersed in a grand adventure of my nightly visits to Camelot, or the Rocky Mountains, or the Great Barrier Reef, or Mars… I am as I was when I retired 6 hours before, and that is not normal. I haven’t moved during the night.

My alarm goes off. I despise it. I hate it.… I would much more prefer the aroma of coffee accompanied by a woman’s gentle touch, and a voice telling me softly in my ear, “Wake-up baby, it’s time for work.” And when lids part my gaze is met with the eyes of the one I love. She is smiling, and on her face is love and in her eyes a sliver of guilt for pulling me from a dream…. That is the way to begin the day, looking into the eyes of an angel. And if all our days began that way, the world would be a better place.

Instead I am blasted into consciousness by the clock. It’s loud and in my face, like a Drill Sergeant, and if I had a hammer close by I would have mercifully ended its miserable existence on this earth. Instead I reach across my body to hit the snooze button, but I’m stopped half-way as the whole right side of my body is racked in pain.

I slowly make my way out of bed. It takes ten minutes. The pain is building and I know I won’t be going to work. I can barely sit up. I nearly fall over on the way to the bathroom, but the walls of the narrow hallway keep me up. It feels like someone has hammered a railroad stake into my back. The pain gets worse as I hobble around the house trying to get ready for the day, but I can’t. I stumble back into my bedroom and crawl into bed. I pass out.

I have to pee, but I can’t get up. Its noon and I’m hungry, but I can’t get up. My lower body throbs with a pain I haven’t felt before. My pelvis feels like it’s in a vice, slowly being crushed. When I try to roll over a power drill bores into my hips. When I try to straighten my legs, I’m halted by the seesawing of a hacksaw on my thighs. I call my family but no one is answering. I wish had some pain pills. I pass out.

It’s late in the afternoon and Luke comes home. He asks how I’m feeling. He suggests that I get up and walk around. I tell him I can’t, but am too proud to ask for help. He goes into his room. I guess he thinks I was exaggerating. Still no one answers the phone. There isn’t much to do when you can’t get out of bed. I’m worried about my Appalachian Trail trip. A month from now I plan on walking 2185 miles in 6 months, and now I can barely move. I’ve changed my whole life for this trip. I’ve sold some belongings, and I’ve given my notice to my managers that I’ll be moving out at the end of February. How will I move, when I can’t even move?

The next morning is Tuesday and I think a day of rest has to have done me some good. I really have to pee, and I still haven’t eaten. I try to get out of bed, but I can’t even sit up. I can hear Romi walking around the house, making breakfast, taking a shower, talking on the phone. He knows I’m in a bad way, but he doesn’t check on me, and I’m too proud to ask for his help… I think it must be nice to have someone… Someone to love you, and care about you, and worry about you. Someone to take care of you when you’re sick. Someone to be there for you. I wonder how many people have someone like that, and foolishly take them for granted. I pass out.

…Finally my mom answers. She comes over with my Grandma and my Uncle Kevin. They are here for me. That’s what family is for. Family loves you no matter what. It doesn’t matter if you don’t drive a nice car, or if you don’t wear the latest fashions, or if you don’t make the most money. It doesn’t matter if you screw up and say or do the wrong thing, because your family will forgive you. Family will love you just as much when you’re down and out as they did the day you were born, and will stay by your side even when everyone else has forsaken you… I need there help getting to the doctor, but they can’t even get me up. The pain is just too much. My back refuses to comply. My mom calls 911…

…to be continued.

Guaranteed

Guaranteed






On bended knee is no way to be free


lifting up an empty cup I ask silently


that all my destinations will accept the one that's me


so I can breath






Circles they grow and they swallow people whole


half their lives they say goodnight to wive's they'll never know


got a mind full of questions and a teacher in my soul


so it goes...






Don't come closer or I'll have to go


Holding me like gravity are places that pull


If ever there was someone to keep me at home


It would be you...






Everyone I come across in cages they bought


they think of me and my wandering


but I'm never what they thought


got my indignation but I'm pure in all my thoughts


I'm alive...






Wind in my hair, I feel part of everywhere


underneath my being is a road that disappeared


late at night I hear the trees


they're singing with the dead


overhead...






Leave it to me as I find a way to be


consider me a satelite for ever orbiting


I knew all the rules but the rules did not know me


guaranteed...














Really been digging this album lately. if you've never heard it I would suggest running out and buying it right now. The song writing is brilliant. I had to share this one... It's my favorite... Probably because its me.






Eddie Vedder - Into the Wild

Back on Track

So my gear buying is officially over. Last week I purchased the last few big items on my list, including trekking poles, a sleeping bag liner, and a pack. With the trekking poles I just bought some lower end Black Diamonds. They are fairly light and telescopic so they should work just fine. For a pack I ended up buying the Flash 50 from REI, mainly due to the fact that I could go to the store and try it on. It's not as light as some, but at 2 lbs 10 oz its still saving me over three pounds from my Gregory.

There are so many opinions out there on packs and I was looking at ULA, Gossamer Gear, Granite Gear, and Six Moons, and the truth is that, while all of them had packs that I was interested in, I couldn't try any of them on. Obviously a lot of people buy packs online so it's not that big of deal, but for me it was just too hard. One week I wanted the ULA Ohm and the next it was the Granite Gear Vapor Trail. I just couldn't pull the trigger on anything...

Turns out that It was a good thing I went in to REI. You see when I bought my last pack, my torso was measured at 20", and of course I ended up buying a "Large" sized pack. The Gregory that Ive been using, while heavy, has always been fairly comfortable, but never really seemed to fit me quite right. Last night at REI I had the salesman measure me three times, and every time my torso came out at 18". Which means that Ive been lugging around a pack thats too large for my torso size for the last year because when I was originally fitted the person at REI who measured me screwed up.

Now, I'm not the type of person who negatively takes advantage of REI's return policy. I stand by my buying choices and almost never return items. Well, I paid $250.0 for that Gregory and it kind of pisses me off that it doesn't fit. So yeah, I'll be taking that one back, even though I bought it over a year ago.

Last Minute

Last Tuesday I hurt my back at work. I was laid up for the rest of the week on the couch playing video games. It gave me a a lot of time to think, just sitting around like that with nothing to do. I thought about my truck and how I would fix it. I thought about the lease on my house, it will be up in a couple months and I need to find an apartment. I think about how nice it is to get away from work for a little bit. One day while searching through Netflix I find a National Geographic documentary on the Appalachian Trail. I've seen it before, and I loved it. It made fantasize about the time when I will through-hike the trail. When I will take the journey. I watch it again.

I have been toying with the idea of thru-hiking ever since I learned of its existence. I read a book by Chris Townsend. He has hiked the Triple Crown. I read that he has hiked thousands of miles, and I am instantly swept up in the romance and sheer adventure of such an undertaking. I resolve then that someday, when the time is right, I will hike thousands of miles.

I am laying on the couch watching the documentary. I learn that most hikers going northbound depart from Georgia in March and April. "Interesting" I think, because my lease is up in February. All of the sudden it hits me. My lease is going to be up, and I don't have to find an apartment right away. I have no kids, no wife, no one else that I am responsible for. I don't need to spend a year planning. I could hike the AT this April!

My mind is made up. I am doing it, and Iv'e thought of little else since I made that decision. In fact, the AT has possessed me. I have the bug you might say.

Soloist: Stevens Lake Overnighter

View from my camp

Sometimes I just want to go. I get the itch to be outside. I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel possessed. That’s how I was feeling a couple weeks ago as I watched the days become shorter and the nights grow colder and the summer slipping away too soon again. At work my racing mind bounced from one locale to the next, obsessing over possible plans for the weekend, and wondering who will go with me…

 Steve and Luke were both feeling under the weather, and I didn’t even bother asking anyone else because I know what the answer will be… The answer is always the same; it’s only the excuses that change. A man can only hear the word “no” so many times before he stops asking the question.

So I head out unaccompanied into the Bitterroot Mountains on the Idaho/Montana boarder.  I climb 2’000 feet in 3 miles mostly through the dense timber of a shadowy evergreen forest.  The trail splits and forks and shortcuts switchbacks, and since I didn’t bring a map I mark my rout by digging big directional arrows in the dirt trail with my boot heal. I didn’t bring a watch, either and worried that I wouldn’t make it to Stevens Lakes before dark I put my camera away and push hard.

I am greeted by the sounds of laughter at Upper Stevens Lake as I break into a clearing and discover several tents in various locations on the north side of the lake.  Wondering why so many people are camped so close together I push on… After all, isn’t that one of the reasons we backpack, to get away from… everyone… everything? The trail around the lake is steep and narrow and soon my convertibles are soaked from the dew covered greenery that overwhelms the vanishing trail.

Alas I reach the small lake and am greeted with… silence. I am the only one it seems who bothered to go the extra mile for solitude and am rewarded by my efforts.  Alone I set up camp and build a fire, but everywhere I look are signs of civilization and I can’t help but feeling screwed out of a true wilderness experience. My camp is littered with aluminum cans, bottles, and miscellaneous trash. Not far from my camp I find an uncovered cat hole filled with toilet paper and tampons…

But I clean it all up, and after the sun goes down I sit around my smoldering fire staring at a billion stars and wanting to say something… But no one is there for me to talk to, so I put the fire out and go to bed.

The next morning is beautiful and after taking a few dozen shots of the awakening lake, I head out. I am walking along a sand beach covered in deadfalls and I spot someone. It is a woman sitting alone at the water’s edge, her face buried in a book... I wonder what she looks like... I wonder if she is alone like me... I wonder what she is reading... I want her to look up from her book and see me so I can smile and wave to her... I want to go talk to her…

 I take a photo and walk away.

Rocka Rolla: Dawson Pass Loop Day 2 - Glacier National Park

Not long after we left the moose behind, it started raining.  The forecast actually looked really good, calling for a chance of rain Thursday but partly cloudy Saturday and Sunday with highs in the 70’s.  Despite all the times the weather forecast has been wrong, I believed it like a fool, and packed accordingly.  So you can imagine the look on my face a couple hours earlier at the Ranger station when I stood bemused while the Ranger was contacted by radio and informed right in front of us that an arctic storm blowing across Canada would hit the park that night and last for two damn days.  Here it was early August and Glacier Park was expecting 2 inches of snow…

 So when the rain started, all I had for protection was a pack cover and a rain jacket, which usually would be fine in a regular rain storm… But it rained hard and never stopped.  By the time we got to camp at No Name Lake I was soaked. My feet were soaked through waterproof boots, my whole upper body was soaked through a waterproof jacket, and my pants were so wet I could wring them out like a dish rag. I’ll be honest; it made me rethink the quality of my gear.  The really crappy part was that because fires are illegal in most of Glacier Parks backcountry, we didn't build one. We sat in the rain and made dinner, and the first time the rain broke, we hurriedly pitched our tents.

Finally the rain did let up and we all went down to the water and did some fishing. The dreary overcast sky was darkening with the coming of twilight, and as we fished at the waters edge a thunderclap exploded in the sky overhead.  It boomed like a howitzer and the violent crash of rolling thunder stampeded from the mountain side onto our beach and shook the ground beneath our feet. And there it remained, unwavering, beating against our courage and filling our bones with dread. Our eyes were fixed on a massive sheer cliff towering over our beach like Point du Hoc, and with eyes wide open we could see stones and boulders violently tumbling down its doom lit face and smashing into the rocks below.  It was a sight to behold, the raw power of nature. Jesse looked at me and for the second time today asked, “Should we be standing here?”

Luke fly-fishing No Name Lake

It rained all night and the next morning.  At breakfast we discussed our course of action. Luke and I were so sick of the rain. We have been rained on every backpacking trip since April. It seemed we couldn't escape it and we were both feeling like we just wanted to be dry. But Jesse came to the rescue with words of wisdom that really got moral turned back around, “Overcoming adversity like this is what makes you a better and stronger man, we need to finish what we started.” Of course he was right, and a half hour later we were packed up and heading west toward the continental divide.

Bear Bait: Dawson Pass Loop Day 1 - Glacier National Park

Within 30 minutes of walking we ran into a group of hikers going the opposite way, who warned us of a black bear ahead of us on the trail…

I kind of slowed down, and was intently scanning the forest in front of me looking for it, trying to make sure that we wouldn't surprise each other. The woods were thick with spruce, and pine, and fir, and even aspen, and all I could see were a thousand shades of green and brown.  Two Medicine Lake, I knew, was maybe a couple hundred feet from my left shoulder, but I couldn't even see it through the trees. I couldn't see squat. I felt like the point-man on a U.S.  Special Forces team in some southeast Asian jungle, trying spot the enemy first before I stumbled into an ambush.

 I know the bear isn't my enemy, but  frankly I didn't want to surprise the hell out of it and get attacked by the damn thing. I kept thinking about that poor hiker in Kentucky last June who was almost eaten by a black bear. If he hadn't been rescued by another group of hikers he would have been dinner. But I had some companions with me, so I wasn't too worried.

We were being loud. We sang some Tom Petty. We clapped our hands. We called out “hey bear” and “coming through bear”, or even the occasional enticement “people steaks” and “Special tonight, leg-of-Larson, come and get it”. It was pretty amusing coming up with funny little quips to yell into the woods to ward off bears…  And in this particular instant it didn't even work.

I had just about given up. I thought the bear must be gone and I wasn't going to see it.  I glanced to my left and my eyes locked with the eyes of a bear that was standing about 15 feet just off the trail in front of me. He was staring right at me, watching me coming, and I didn't see him until I was nearly right on top of him. The instant I saw him, I was startled, which in turn startled the bear, who jumped just as a person would when you scare the crap out of them, did a lightning  fast 180 degree turn, and took off into the woods. He got about 30 feet before he ran into some huckleberry bushes and sat down for lunch.

He was big and black and the light gleaming off his manicured coat looked like something a rich woman would have worn back in the day. He paid no attention to us at all, just sat there eating like we weren't even there.  I took some pics, and soon we were on our way again. I couldn't help but wonder how the outcome might have been different if it was a 500 pound grizzly instead of a 150 pound black bear (that’s what it looked like to me). Not that 150 pounds is small. I remember Luke remarking that it was just the size of a big dog.  Well 150 pounds is a huge dog (and coincidentally also the size of the bear that mauled that dude in Kentucky).  I remember my old dog Bruener (who I compare all big dogs too), he was about 110 and scared the holy crap out of everybody, and could have killed just about anyone if he wanted to. Seeing the bear up close like that was surreal, but it wasn't scary. I realized 5 minutes after we left him that I didn't even reach for the bear spray I had on my hip.

About 15 minutes later we had another encounter that truly did scare me.  Jesse was up front, and somehow spotted a bull moose off the trail to our left about 60 feet or so into the woods. I t was by far the biggest animal I have ever seen in the wild. His rack was 5 feet long from end-to-end it looked like a damn school bus. I know that I’m exaggerating, but I was kind of freaked. It just stood there holding its ground staring. It’s like it was sizing us up. I remarked to the guys, “That thing is gigantic and it’s staring right at us” and Jesse goes, “Yeah, should we be standing here? Let’s go!” I took a couple heart pounding (it was so huge) pictures and we boogied.