The kid walked up while I was down in the creek fiddling around with a big rock, to tell me he’d lost his last fly. I was the fishing guide and the person responsible for that sort of thing, so I needed to act quickly. Of course, the most obvious solution would be for me to give him one. Usually, that’d be a simple thing to do– but since, in this case, I didn’t have any, it wasn’t even an option.
Lightning was striking everywhere, and each time it did, there was a bright flash that was immediately followed by a deafening crash of thunder. When it first started, I figured it would be wise to do something about it, although I didn’t act. But once the bolts started lighting up individual trees, I sprang into action.
I headed to the creek to get a pot full of water.
And tripped on a root on my way back to camp.
I staggered and stumbled but didn’t fall,
Then dropped the pot and spilled it all.
Ryan had never bonked before, at least in the metabolic shock/ overexertion sense of the word. When he started to bumble around and lose more and more of his edge, I knew that something was up and figured that’s what had happened. Not realizing what was going on, he kept on trying to mountain bike further up the Colorado Trail, although with diminishing returns. The big patches of snow that remained on the trail, even though it was June, were probably a good thing since they ultimately turned us all around. His disrupted mental and physical state likely made the retreat more palatable to the 13-year-old, since he wasn’t one to be prone to turn around before his goal was reached.
Continue reading “Bonking (also known as Metabolic Acidosis)”
Backpacking down the trail.
I come to a creek,
And look for a crossing.
It’s a dry one I seek.
Suddenly I’m stopped,
Mired in the mud.
A boot gets stuck,
And I fall with a thud.
I feel my body,
And nothing seems hurt.
I decide to get up,
And wipe off the dirt.
Except…
The dirt that covers my hands and legs,
Is gooey, wet, and awful sticky.
And to clean it off now I realize,
Will be a task that’s mighty tricky.
So, I wade into the stream,
Where the water is wet.
Wash off the mess,
And loudly scream.
Now that I’m clean,
But thoroughly soaked.
I continue across,
My dry crossing revoked.
I clamber out of the water,
On the other side.
Drenched to the hilt.
And I begin to slide.
The weight of the backpack,
Pulls me back.
Toward the water,
And I begin to totter.
Once again I fall,
Onto my back this time.
My pack’s submerged,
But without the grime.
My stuff’s all soaked,
My elbow aches.
Getting up is hard,
And my body shakes.
Finally, I’m up,
And proceed once more.
This time careful,
As I reach the shore.
Then, it’s out of the water,
Up onto the bank.
This time it’s easy,
I have two fails to thank.
Audio Version:
Cruising down the trail,
With a tailwind at my back.
Got a bounce in my step,
And extra room in my pack.
No sweat on my brow,
Or cold fingertips.
My lungs are full of breath,
There’s a smile on my lips.
The Middle Fork’s just ahead,
In the valley down below.
I have a favorite campsite there,
Where the river’s got good flow.
No thought of rain,
We’re walking fast because we can.
The need to get there quickly,
Isn’t in the plan.
Once we’re there and the tent’s set up,
I’m gonna take a nap.
Then there’ll still be time for fishing,
And to sit around and yap.
Bugs and snow have gone away,
The Aspens turning gold.
I stop and drink right from a creek,
The water’s clear and cold.
I’m thankful that the air is fresh,
And sunshine warms my face,
Cause I remember those other times,
When such was not the case.
The sign said fifteen miles to go,
So I figured seven hours.
Now we’re almost there in three,
And that’s with looking at the flowers.
It’s true the trail I’m walking,
Is full of climbs and bends,
But I rejoice in the simple fact,
That this journey never ends.
Audio Version:
Undoubtedly, it was the five candy bars I ate in celebration of successfully getting down and across the avalanche debris field caused the distress. I should’ve known better, but for various reasons, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Once my stomach settled and I was back home, I realized that, even though the situation was painful, it had taught me a valuable lesson.
Morning coffee,
By the creek.
Pondering how,
My day I’ll tweak.
Climb the mountain,
Rising high.
Knife-edge summit,
Fills the sky.
Gulp of water,
Clear and cold,
No sight of flecks,
Dirt, or mold.
Trail ascending,
Miles to go,
Heavy packs,
And thigh-deep snow.
Sardines with honey,
Such a treat.
Sweet and filling,
Hard to beat.
Unfathomed darkness,
Fills the cave.
To enter deeper,
Must be brave.
Cross a log,
Above the stream.
You don’t fall in,
Or even scream.
Mountain bike,
On sketchy trails.
With massive cliffs,
And no guard rails.
The best 12 peas,
I ever ate,
Were hard and crunchy,
But filled my plate.
Roaring river,
Drops and chutes.
Scary options,
So many routes.
It didn’t snow,
Or even rain.
Now sunshine rules,
And clear skies reign.
Climbing rock face high above.
Footholds, handholds, and lots of gear.
Keep your focus and your balance
Have strength of mind,
But never fear.
Strike a match,
Start a fire.
Warm your hands,
Cold not so dire.
Massive snowfield,
Long and steep,
No run-out,
And the snow is deep.
Things that happen,
Are both big and small.
But remember that,
They matter all.
Audio Version:
Goal chosen wisely,
Journey planned well.
The unknown awaits,
With stories to tell.
The first step is telling,
Confirms the intent.
Each one that follows,
Will surely augment.
Calm and smooth sailing,
Is widely perceived.
The plan moves on forward,
Just as conceived.
Cloudless skies and well-marked trails,
Stoves that work and wind-filled sails.
Cars that run and sturdy shoes,
Healthy heals and happy news.
But then,
A storm looms to the west,
The trail sign is gone.
There’s no way to cook food,
Good breezes allude.
The engine won’t start,
Your boots come apart.
Big blisters have formed,
The news has transformed.
When plans go awry,
And you wonder why.
Don’t cry for what’s not,
Think of all that you’ve got.
Be excited when curveballs,
Come your way.
Because then is when,
Real adventures begin.
Audio Version:
Embrace the time and place,
That puts a smile upon your face.
Wallow in it,
Soak it up,
Savor the moment,
Pour it in your cup.
Plant the vision in your mind,
Tell the story to remind.
The memories don’t have to disappear,
Or become less clear.
For me, I still….
Feel the river jostling my canoe as I marvel at the sunrise over the Del Carmens.
Ponder the quiet of the Tarryall Mountains as I lean against a rock on the top of Bison.
Taste the Tuna Surprise we ate on Mount Borah.
Am amazed by the midnight sun as it finally begins to set over the Kahiltna Glacier.
Hear the Popo Agie River roaring while I search for a good place to camp.
Feel the flow of the Puke Loop when I finally point my bike downward.
Make the right combination of moves near the top of the Rock Staircase.
Turn my eyes away from the blowing wind and snow as I near the top of Huayna Potosi.
See the Milky Way come to life as I look up from my bivouac in the Winds.
Walk to the cadence of the Semana Santa drums in Copper Canyon.
Smell the campfire telling me how to get back.
Each instant a wonder,
A tale of its own.
Remember and treasure,
Help it be known.
Audio Version:
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