one of my first of such life-threatening/enhancing experiences was when i lived in france: i slept in a phone booth once because my friend and i did not have enough money for a hotel room. we called my parents from that phone booth to let them know 'things were alright'. lessons learned: do not sleep in phone-booths, they are terribly cramped, and offer little safety, especially if the phone booth is riddled with bullet-holes; and never call your parents from the phone booth you are sleeping in.
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| the hangover after a night in a french phonebooth |
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| the view of the tetons from our first campsite |
i think a safe conclusion here is that although i do learn from my mistakes, i am still irrepressibly impulsive, and increasingly impatient with things like timing, preparation, and general foresight.
i was recently reminded of my impulsive and irresponsible nature just yesterday, when i woke up with the urge to climb a mountain. this is really nothing new to me, but the urge i felt yesterday came to me as low, gray clouds and freezing temperatures brought the western virginia her first snowstorm. i am blaming colorado for these sudden outbreaks of snow-fever... only the rockies could be the source of my deep desire to run, ski, and climb mountains at the first sight of snow. so i called up my brother at 9am: "do you want to go hiking?" luckily, he was still asleep, and had not looked out his window yet. "sure!" was his response at the time, but as we were packing up to leave, i could tell he had no idea what he was in for. i actually had no idea either... but we sure found out quickly what an adventure was to be had!
first things first: when you leave on a trip, where is the first place you should go? answer: a gas station. where was the first place i went? starbucks. where were we 30 miles after starbucks? in the middle of nowhere with no gas. we only passed 3 gas stations on our way to the trail at white oak canyon... but alas, we arrived in syria, va with the needle resting just two-hairs above empty. i knew we had to get gas, or else we would only be further in the wilderness without any options. so on to madison we went... or i should say, up to madison we went. the '96 jeep cherokee country lurched up the mountain for 11 miles, until the needle sagged desperately below empty. i began to pray to god that this was not the end of us... i made my brother recite 'hail marys' all the way up the hill... we eventually (16 miles later) made it to the nearest gas station, on the wrong side of town. here is a map of exactly how far out of the way we went... given to me somewhat spitefully by my brother: http://g.co/maps/hzgzj (notice how he had to check "avoid hiways"). while allowing the jeep to gobble up $50 of my wallet, we took a deep sigh of relief, and i admitted to my brother that i could be the worst trip planner ever, and that we had lost all control of the situation. i also admitted that i had forgotten to bring any directions and we would just have to go on my 'instinct' sense to get back to white oak canyon...
it wasn't until mid-afternoon we made it to the trail. at that point, we had seen the morning's snow melt into dismal sleet, and the once white roads turn black again. then, suddenly, as if a sign from above, the sky began to sprinkle down white snowflakes, quickly amounting to billowing winds that frantically blanketed the fields around us with white again. just as we passed the first, last, and only sign to white oak canyon, a fluffy-tailed red fox gallantly hopped by us in one of the snowy fields, as if to say: "you have arrived, the fun is here!"
we pulled into an already softly blanketed parking lot, and parked next to the only other car there. the cold wind welcomed us to one of the most perfect scenes on earth: snow falling gently in a forest, accompanied by the mellifluous crackling of ice cold streams cutting through the mountain's wilderness. we hiked up the mountain in solitude, enjoying the peace and joy of each moment. the cedar run trail we took led us up 3 miles of crooked, rocky, and steep mountainside, with the trail weaving across the stream throughout the hike. lovely waterfalls surprised us at every turn, and as we hiked, the snow became deeper and deeper. the mountain's clouds lifted on the way down, revealing craggy rock faces that were hidden before. every step was a wonderful surprise, up until the very last, when we reached the top of the trail, and i snuck up on a little bobcat stalking a bird! i didn't see the cat, just heard it jump out from under me... apparently neither he nor me were minding each other any attention! i took our run in with wildlife as a good sign it was time to head back down...
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| snow falling in the woods along the cedar run trail |
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| my life partner & adventurer paula and i, with our life motto |
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