craptastic july 4th hike

i had nothing lined up for the 4th this year, so i hiked. drove myself down to henry w coe state park, which took a bit over an hour to reach and locate. i didn't bring extra pack weight because i was Celebrating Freedom (from extra pack weight). I did bring lots of water and gatorade.

when i got there, around 11am, the "maps" bin was empty but the "parking fee self-pay envelope" bin was surprisingly full. being a good citizen, i paid. i had brought my own partial map of the park that i found on the internet, drawn by enthusiasts and not paid for with tax dollars.

hence "partial" map.

there was a posted map at the pay-for-parking area and i correllated that with my printed map and chose a tentative route, about 15 miles. i set out.

the first two miles were fucking steep. that is the best way to describe it. 1000 feet elev gain for the first mile. another 800 or so for the next mile. lots of overgrown grass everywhere including the "trail". the weather was nice, sunnyish but coolish also. things were going well. after two miles, due to the elevation-related-slowed-pace, it was about lunchtime. i lunched on my usual 2 pb+j sandwiches, supplemented with gatorade and some dried vegetables. i resumed my hike.

ups and downs, lefts and rights. many fascinating thoughts with nobody to share them at. only one thing worrying me (namely: BC in SLC), and that's not so bad, considering. along my merry way i went.

then it got a little windy. and a little overcast. that sucks because i wanted a nice warm, sweaty hike. those are the ones i like. the ones where i don't realize i'm dft and sunburned until it's all over. not the ones where the wind dries all the sweat and i'm chilled. ick. so it was clammy. fine.

around the 5.5mi mark, i took off my shades because it was no longer so sunny. the trail had begun, about a mile back, a mild descent. about .5 miles prior i had seen a sign which indicated that the trail i was on -- which was not fully mapped on my printed map -- led to parking in 3 miles. parking was "hunters hollow". now i was looking at a trail sign which said that in 2.5 miles i'd be at "upper hunters hollow". what the hell was that?

i didn't want an 8 mile hike; shiat, i'd driven an hour and a half to get here, i needed 15 miles at least.

then i took off my shades.

then i felt lightheaded. my allergies were baddened by the grass and the wind, my airways seemed a little restricted. i got slammed with the dizzies and suddenly got the feeling of "i want to be home now". sadly, i was at least 5.5mi from "home".

it was then that i realized i don't think i like solo hikes very much anymore. here i was, facing the decision of 3 miles forward (maybe! who knew what "upper" hunting hollow would be?), 5 miles back, alone, feeling cruddy, cold, and not enjoying the hike. i used to hike alone to escape, now hiking alone only reminds me of what i'm missing. the joy is still there, usually, but when something crappy like what happened yesterday goes down, it brings into sharp focus precisely who is absent from my side.

still, i am a tough guy, and before the dizzies+worries could give way to a real life case of lorazapam-hungry anxiety, i diagnosed myself as suffering from mild exhaustion, hypoglycemia (brought on by the huge G spike introduced by my sugar-rich lunch) and mild dehydration (never do drink enough water). i decided that if the trail ahead didn't look promising after another 2 minutes downhill, i'd head back. better to hike 6 certain miles than 3 uncertain miles followed by another 8 to get back to the car.

after two minutes, i turned back, hiked up hill a bit, and sat down, dizzies and all, to enjoy a bunch of gatorade. no urge to piss, so i was almost certainly dehydrated. back up i went.

later on, i found a marker for a trail that was on the map, a trail that looked to be a shorter route to the car. tragically, there appeared to be no trail. perhaps there was a trail somewhere but it was buried under fields of tall grass. after i'd filled my socks with grass burrs i decided to forget it and got back on the "there" trail to go "back". later.

the gatorade kicked in and i had some more. i was feeling a bit better.

i found another shortcut trail that actually did exist on the physical plane. i took it, because i didn't relish the idea of going downhill on the fucking steep trail i'd taken on the "there" portion of what was now, clearly, a "there and back". unhappily for me, while the shortcut trail was not fucking steep, it was, instead, incredibly fucking steep. i slipped harmlessly a couple times. i couldn't just ski down because the trail was demarcated by poison oak. that's right: tall grass in the middle of the trail, PO on both sides. it's a wonder i didn't get a tick.

eventually, after about 4.5 miles from my turnabout point, i made it to a sign that indicated .8 miles to the parking lot and 3.6 miles to "upper hunting hollow", which indicates that had i gone ahead instead of turning back, i'd have hiked nearly 7 miles instead of 4.5 to reach this point. and they'd probably all have been downhill, which, actually, would have been more miserable for me than uphill.

by this point the wind had died down and the sun was out and i had had lots of sugary gatorade and watery water. i was feeling pretty groovy, which just goes to show how much of mood is controlled by sugar and sun.

got back to my car and took the (quite fun) road back to the fwy at ludicrous speed. almost ate it once or twice. if i'da got the sport suspension i probably wouldn't have slipped as many times as i did, but then, slipping's kinda fun, as long as the traction control is turned on.

when i got home i was indeed dft, and this morning, though i put my lifting shirt on, i decided to rest and lift tomorrow. i haven't had a rest day since last thursday, and though i was supposed to have a new attitude on pussy stuff like "rest" and cop-outs like "overtraining" i'm letting irrationality have a little break for a day and allowing stuart McR. to guide my wednesday. then tomorrow it's back to the iron, with gusto.

...

one of the things i pondered while on the trail is the notion of "need" that comingles with "love". i considered, in my hypoglycemic stupor, that in my current (and to-be-permanent) relationship, neither of us seems to "need" the other. we got along more-or-less fine without and have what it takes to do so again. (i've always considered these two facts as major contributors to what makes our relationship work, i.e. neither one of us is a needy weakling, and we can respect that in one another and be drawn together by it.)

then i had a cruddy moment -- out of which i brought myself with no help other than my own -- where, though evidently i did not "need" her as such (evidenced by my survival), i nonetheless wanted strongly for 203 to be with me, to reassure my baby-self and administer fluids. when i got home i finished up a letter to her and composed a poem (inspired by thoughts on the trail) for her. and then, when she couldn't call last night (the life of a park ranger is always intense!) my mood declined, to the point where i'm in a bit of the crumbs this morning.

but i know that if i but lift my eyes heavenward to see her smiling down upon me, my mood itself will follow my gaze into heaven, and a smile will alight upon my lips, and my testicles will be fortified.

my happiness, my peace of mind, by choice, by fate, by will, by happenstance, are now in her hands. experience shows daily that i don't need her to survive, to feed myself, to dress myself (okay, i need help there), to caffeinate myself; but mere survival isn't much to boast about.