What would you do if you had two years left to live?
Now, this isn't some kind of shit way of saying that I have health problems or anything like that, but this question has been rolling around in my head lately. It's so easy to get caught up in the rabbles and boring stressful stuff from day to day. At risk of sounding cliche, life passes before you in a flash and you've spent your precious brain power freaking out about things that probably won't happen.
That's where the two year question came up. What would you do if you had two years left?
In a moment, I felt this lovely sense of distance from all of the stressful stuff. All the typical things that would bother me or weigh me down suddenly lost their power over me. It was, and continues to be, absolutely glorious.
Two years--what would I do?
Travel to Ireland
Take a tumbling class
Get started on moving towards to my dream job (being a therapist)
Be outside more
Get rid of clutter
Paint
Run a half-marathon with a friend (that I keep putting off)
Write
It's a fun thing to do with your mind. It opens up your heart and your imagination. How long has it been since you let yourself dream? You'd be surprised at what you find!
Pickle & Merbles
Silly times, art, and adventures in Oregon.
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Friday, May 8, 2015
Our Inner Bully
You know, when asked to write and share, it’s so hard to
narrow down a thought. I don’t know if you’ve heard of the
Buddhist/mindfulness adage, but it is said that we have as many thoughts in our
mind as particles of dust in sunlight. I love that quote—if I had my trusty
Buddhist quote book with me right now, I’d be able to give credit properly.
I think mindfulness practice is something that’s becoming
more and more recognized in our breakneck-speed, “if you ain’t first, you’re
last” mentality. Carrying around that self-critical, unyielding inner
bully can be such a heavy task, especially when it comes to home life, work, or
new adventures.
For example, I am training for the Twilight Half Marathon
this July (no, it's not for the vampire movie). Now, I would consider myself a novice runner. I’ve done
a few 5ks (3.1 miles) and one 10k (6.2 miles—which was brutal, by the way), but
nothing this challenging. A half marathon is a 13.3 mile race. Even
the thought of running the half marathon sends feelings of nervousness and
self-doubt through my being. You may recognize the following thoughts:
“Oh my God, why are you starting this? Isn’t this a
little over-ambitious?”
“You can’t even blog on a regular basis. What makes
you think you can stick to a training program for 12 weeks?”
“You’re going to come in last place.”
“You’re probably going to hurt yourself.”
“You’re a slow runner.”
Talk about mental self-bullying. The funny thing is
that I thought all these thoughts consecutively and within a few seconds.
But even that brief timeframe can completely dampen your spirits when you
harbor thoughts like that. I’m curious to know where the inner bully
comes from, but that’ll be another topic to ponder.
So how does one recover from the internal brutal onslaught?
To be honest, I really don’t know. Lately, my inner
bully has been creeping up on me while huffing and puffing at the nature
park. “What are you doing? Why are you stopping? Your time is
going to suck. This is such a terrible run. Why bother?” It
sucks. It really does. I can feel the little bastard hovering
nearby, ready to sling the next insult or degrading remark as I make my way
along the trail.
This morning, I had my first long run of the training
program. A long run is a run you do to get your body used to going long
distances. I mentally prepared myself to take this run at an easy
pace. Running beyond your physical capabilities puts you in high risk of
hurting yourself, which would mess up the whole training plan. I’ve done
it before and it did result in injuries, so I listen to my body more closely
and honor what I feel or need.
Even starting at an easier, slower pace, I could feel that
bully trying to force me to run faster and take less walking breaks. When
I wouldn’t listen and I continued my easy pace, the taunting became
worse. Even the music in my headphones couldn’t drown out all the hateful
things I was telling myself. It was making my body and my legs feel
heavier than they already were. In one breath, out of the dense cruelty came one simple
little notion:
“How would I be if my friend was in this situation?”
The bully immediately deflated and my compassion for this tough run grew. Within a heartbeat, my inner thoughts became so much more encouraging:
“You’re doing great!”
“You’ve got this, Kid!”
“Hey, if you don’t hit your best time, give yourself a
break! You’re only in the early stages of the training program.”
“You’ve only got a mile to go!”
Isn’t that wild? Especially with the almost immediate shift from negative to positive.
As soon as I took on the lighter, friendlier mentality, my run became lighter too. I ran more spirited, flowed with the pace of my music, and ended
up beating my overall time per mileage by 30 seconds. Isn’t that
incredible? I felt so elated, accomplished, and gave myself a mental pat
on the back. I did it! I met my goal!
Well, if this works with running, why can’t it work in
different aspects of life? What if we turned those negative
thoughts—being lousy at our job, being a crummy
partner/sister/friend/granddaughter/fill-in-the-blank—and transpose them with a
friendlier outlook? Would we be lighter? More free? Would we
actually far exceed our self-expectations if we lessened the power of that
inner bully?
It’s something to play around with, that’s for sure. I
took that mentality into the day and although it’s early afternoon, I’m still
feeling mentally lighter. I feel like I’ve been laughing more, having
easier conversations, and feeling less hesitation when asking for help.
The run was completed nearly four hours ago and I’m still taking that lightness
with me.
Now, can you only find this kind of lightness through
running? Heck no. Follow what makes you feel good and whole.
It could be playing an instrument, reading a book, organizing a comic book collection, playing
rugby, anything—find something that makes you feel “more you”, or authentic to who you
are.
For me, this was a grand step in a positive direction.
I’m sure that those little inner bully thoughts will come through again, but
I’ll be aware of using this “friendlier self” mentality to diffuse some of its
momentum.
Thanks for reading. I hope your inner bully doesn’t
weigh you down. If it does, smile and know you’re exactly like everyone
around you. You have the power to shift your mental direction, one
situation at a time.
Be well,
al
| The Twilight Half-Marathon is run in memory of my brother Alex, who I carry with me on the trail. |
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Nugget of Zen: Getting Unstuck
This week has been…wow.
Eye-opening to say the least. I
appreciate you taking the time to read and let me share. It’s been a great practice on being reflective
on what’s going on in life—I hope you’re enjoying it as well! Please feel free to share. I love hearing stories.
Things at work have really been hopping in the last month or
so, which I personally enjoy. I like the
flow of being busy. I love having
projects fly around all over the place and the adrenaline rush that comes with
meeting deadlines and completing tasks. However, since things have picked up project-wise,
I’ve been noticing a change amongst the people that I work with.
Over the past few weeks, the communication between me and my
colleagues has been dwindling. Easy
conversations have gone dry. There was a
strange sense of whispers and muffled voices amongst the team that I couldn’t
quite make out. I was stumped. What changed?
Is my team mad at me? Did I say
something that upset one or more people?
I couldn’t figure it out.
To be honest, this caused me quite a bit of internal
distress. Noticing the change made me
feel hurt. The hurt became anger. Anger became resentment. Suddenly, the thrill that I got from
finishing a task was overshadowed by this growing miasma of heaviness between
me and my team. It made coming to work
more and more of a struggle.
Amid the darkness, something clicked. Going round and round wasn’t going to solve
anything. If anything, it was only going
to make the situation that much worse. Instead
of continuing to dwell on the negative, I took a good look inside and asked, “When
did this change come about? What control do I have right now? What actions can I take to make this situation
better?” Asking questions like these
forced me to reflect on the situation with an open mind and an open heart.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. With all the projects I’ve been taking over
and having fun with, I’ve been neglecting my team. Previously, I wouldn’t have thought twice
about having a chat with a teammate, even if it was to check in and see how the
day was turning out. With the increased
workload though, that communication went on the backburner. That shift in attention could be the reason
why the team dynamic was tense.
So I took that little nugget of insight and really ran with
it. I made a plan. There was something I could do to change this.
The very next day, I spent more time
with my team. I pulled up a chair and
took the time to listen to their stories, hear what was going on in their
world, and share what was going on in mine.
I admit that I felt a little rusty, but like riding a bike, I got my
groove back in no time.
The reward was instant.
Within 24 hours, the whole dynamic of the team shifted. The heaviness in the office lightened
considerably. Smiles were more apparent,
as well as laughter. I once again had a
pulse and insight into not only how things were going within my team at work,
but how they were doing in their own worlds.
I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing it felt to have this kind of
triumph. The impact of this success made
coming to work so much lighter and easier.
It was such a tremendous epiphany that I couldn’t help but
share. We all feel stuck in an aspect in
our lives from time to time. That’s
ok. It’s normal. One thing you can do to have a positive impact
is to look within. What efforts can you
make to make the situation better? Sure,
there are things beyond your control, but find out what you can control and use
that opportunity to make a shift. You don’t
need a monumental move to make a difference.
For me, spending 15-20 minutes commiserating and bonding not only helped
me reconnect and re-engage, but gave me a bit of a breather from all of the
projects I was working on.
Anyway, there’s my little nugget of Zen. Be well, friends. If you’re facing a moment of being stuck, I
hope you can find a little opportunity within to make things a little smoother.
Smile and be well,
al
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Leaving the Ground Fallow
Leaving the Ground Fallow
I know I haven’t written in a while and that’s a
bummer. I have so much to say and so
much going on that it’s hard to stop and reflect. That’s to say one can’t try though!
Things have been really great here. It just seems like 2015 has taken a shift in
an amazing direction. I’m outside
more. I’m getting more involved with the
Portland scene, like attending Chocolatefest, seeing protestors at Comicon, and
getting outside and enjoying the sights and the fresh air. It’s also thrown a fun twist—I’m dating
someone!
It’s just really mind-boggling when you think about it. The latter half of 2013 was a difficult and
tragic time for me and my family. To be
honest, 2014 was a year of surviving. It
wasn’t really living. I couldn’t invest
the time to do much else except for going through the motions and staying within
a comfort zone. The most I could do was
get up, go to work, go home, and go to bed without losing it. It’s part of the process, I’m told; it’s the
effort of trying to figure out how in the hell you can even survive after
losing someone. We lost Alex in December
of 2013. My family lost three of our
four pets in 9 months. My grandmother
passed away. It was a pretty dark and
emotional year, I’ll share that much. Going
through a period of time like that, it’s hard to grasp at the positive, let
alone have the strength to do day-to-day things. Life is just neutral. As my friend Toku said, “the ground was
fallow”.
The funny thing is that 2015 has had a completely different
spin to it. There’s a light and energy
to it. The steps to getting out and
living were small. I’d start by going to
a restaurant. Having a date night to
myself. Ask an old friend to go to coffee
and catch up. These little steps evolved
into going for my first hike alone, then challenging myself to take a chance on
a new friendship, which led to a relationship.
This led to new friends, new networking outlets, and brand-new
experiences. This year, though still in
its infancy, is robust and full of life and colors, as compared to the banality
of 2014.
I was sharing this same thought with a friend of mine, Toku, this past weekend. He listened carefully,
then challenged me to see it in a new light.
Rather than seeing 2014 as ‘not living’, he encouraged the thought of
seeing that time as ‘leaving the ground fallow’. From my extremely limited knowledge of farming
and agriculture, leaving a ground fallow means not planting any crops on a
portion of ground for a season. The
intention is to let the ground rebuild its nutrients and rest so that when it’s
time to plant again, the ground is revitalized.
This really resonated and made me stop and reflect. He was perfectly right and offered a lighter,
more compassionate way of thinking of the last year or so.
No, nothing can ever replace what we lose. We will always carry that ache in our hearts
as we continue our personal journeys.
However, I believe Alex would really like to see that adventures are
still taking place, stories are being written, and life is flourishing, even in
the darkest of times. In a way, I hope
it gives us something to talk about when we meet again one day.
Wishing you well as we dive headfirst into March!
al
P.S. Here's some fun pictures of early 2015 adventures:
| Coffee at Coava. Their almond milk vanilla latte is the bomb. |
| Saw a 1951 Rolls Royce. Swank. |
| I had the great honor of meeting Gregory Gourdet, Executive Chef at Departure and finalist on Top Chef. His chocolate cake is ambrosia, or Food of the Gods. |
| The Great Matriarch, Grandma. She was giving me pointers on how to make hummus and how raw broccoli can negate the effects of thyroid medication. This woman is incredible. |
| Taking the BF on outdoorsy adventures.
P.P.S.S. I post pictures on Instagram all the time. You can find me under PickleandMerbles. I find weird, funny shit. Hashtagging like a boss.
|
Monday, January 26, 2015
Mindfulness Practice on Angel's Rest
It’s amazing how a change in mindset can make all the
difference in the world.
This past Sunday, I was jonesing for a hike. The
weather was supposed to be perfect—mid-50’s, sunny skies, pure bliss! I
laced up my shoes, packed my bag, and headed out the door. I didn’t have
the same kind of grit and to-hell-with-them-all determination as I did hiking
Devil’s Rest. My thought process when hopping in the car was, “a walk in
the woods sounds nice”. Boy, there must have been a bunch of folks who
thought the same thing. Holy cow. Several parking lots in the
Columbia River Gorge were full at 9:30 a.m. I was lucky to find a spot
right in front of Wahkeena Falls. In essence, I was going to be taking
the same hike that led to the Devil’s Rest Summit, but heading towards Angel’s
Rest instead.
Though it was the same initial part of the hike, it didn’t
feel nearly as leg-busting and strenuous as it did previously. It was
interesting. Instead of “I HAVE TO MAKE IT TO ANGEL’S REST NO MATTER WHAT
TODAY”, my mantra was “Yup, a walk in the woods will be nice”. You’d be
surprised. You really would be. I didn’t have the kind of tunnel
vision as I did before, when climbing up all of the switchbacks. I
stopped and took pictures. I saw interesting plant formations and
mushrooms emerging from the decaying trunks of fallen trees. I didn’t
even give these beauties a second glance before. Huh.
Before I knew it, I made it to the top. Once you wind
your way to the top of the switchbacks, there’s a little lookout called
Lemmon’s Viewpoint, named for a fallen firefighter who lost his life protecting the
gorge. I passed a fellow hiker and took a few pictures. Wasn’t out
of breath, legs were fine—cool!
![]() |
| Lemmon's Viewpoint over the Columbia River |
As I wound around to Fairy Falls, the creeks were swollen
and singing a gentle reverie in the depth of the forest. How did I miss
this before? Was I blind and deaf in my goal with Devil’s Rest?
Interesting. Either way, I was thankful to be enjoying it this time
around.
![]() |
| How in the hell did I miss this before? |
I reached a clearing in the hike, the invariable fork in the
road. Devil’s Rest or Angel’s Rest? As I was making my way towards
Angel’s Rest, I came across a semi-familiar face. The hiker I passed at
Lemmon’s Viewpoint was asking a guy where to go at this point in the hike.
Bless his heart, I think he missed her question entirely and tried to lead her
back to the parking lot. After he headed on his way, I approached her and
offered to lend a hand. A quick introduction later, I found out her name
was Liz, this was her first time in Wahkeena, and she was headed to Angel’s
Rest as well. We agreed to join forces on our journey and made our way to
Angel’s Rest, which was another 2.6 miles away.
This “walk in the woods” became a conversation about life, love, the changing flows of time, the hospitality of the Midwest, and how each of us made our way to Oregon. I was so entranced with the conversation that before we knew it, new friend Liz and I made it to Angel’s Rest.
This “walk in the woods” became a conversation about life, love, the changing flows of time, the hospitality of the Midwest, and how each of us made our way to Oregon. I was so entranced with the conversation that before we knew it, new friend Liz and I made it to Angel’s Rest.
![]() |
| Made it to the top! Note: I didn't ask new friend if I could post her pic, so out of respect, I decided against it. |
We were in awe. We made it? Really? Wow! We sat on the sun-soaked rock formations, gave our quads a break, and sat in the glory of our victory. The winds picked up pretty intensely, so we didn’t stay too long. We finished a lunch of blackberries, protein bars, and roasted pumpkin seeds, and made our way back.
![]() |
| The perfect spot for lunch. |
This hike ended up becoming a
mindfulness practice. What opportunities do you open yourself up to when
you relax and go with the flow of the day? Being the anxious busy little bee that I
am, giving myself a break mentally was the most nourishing and loving thing I
could give myself. And the rewards were plentiful.
![]() |
| Nature's ikebana |
It opens one up to think—what would it be like
if all of the aspects in life were this open? To just sit and let the day
happen? I, for one, would be curious to see what
happens.
Happy Journeys,
al
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Touch of Compassion and a Cup of Coffee
Update: Two minutes after publishing this post, a little red-headed girl, no more than 3, came up to me and asked me to help her zip her jacket. Her brother and sister watched protectively, but after a few minutes, all of us were making faces and doing silly dances in the middle if a busy coffee shop. Isn't it funny how things turn out that way? Definitely the highlight of the weekend.
***
I was filled with a flood of conflicting and intense emotions as my vellum ink pen touched the cardstock. The deep sea of grief, the depth of loss, a swelling heart of gratitude, and a gentle weariness filled my being.
As I finished the last sentence and signed my name, I looked at the faces around me. The concerned tones, the joyful laughs, the giggling of a little girl looking at a picture book. All whilst feeling and breathing through each and every sentence, I wore a face of focus and a light smile.
No one here knows I wrote a thank you letter. That I wrote it to thank a special someone for his support during a dark time; a time in my life when cancer took someone I loved. No one. All this pain and love, hidden behind a smile.
In perspective, what are these fine coffee purveyors hiding behind a laugh and a smile? What thoughts and love, goals and challenges lie in these people's lives?
It was such an interesting perspective to think about. I'm going to let it permeate and radiate to those I share life with today. It gives me a moment to pause and feel a deep compassion for everyone out there, rather than solely focusing on my grief.
Overall, people are fascinating, as in the way we hold ourselves around others, even our loved ones. For those out there hiding something, anything, behind a smile--I'm thinking of you today.
Love and Well-Wishes with Each Breath,
al
Friday, January 16, 2015
Devil's Rest VICTORY
Wahkeena Falls Trailhead to Devil’s Rest
Columbia River Gorge
As I mentioned in my last post, Frozen Waterfalls in
Columbia Gorge, the Devil’s Rest hike is something I’ve been
wanting to do for a while. Think of it as a badge of honor—it would be
the steepest, longest hike I ever tackled. We’re talking 7.5 miles in the
woods, 2,550’ elevation. So needless to say, it was a challenging goal.
Truth be told—and I’ll own it—this would be the fourth attempt to hit this
hike.
Attempt #1—Made it about 4 miles in, turned around due to
fatigue and falling temperatures.
Attempt #2—A week later, made it a mile in before my stomach
took a turn. Scrambled eggs wasn’t a good choice for breakfast.
Attempt #3—The next week, made it ¼ of a mile in, but the trail
was covered in thick sheets of ice (previous blog post).
Attempt #4—
9:09 a.m.—Arrived at Wahkeena Falls Trailhead in the
Columbia River Gorge. Sent friends and family a text message letting them
know where I was. It’s about 42 degrees right now and it’s starting to
rain.
9:40 a.m.—Made it up 11 switchbacks, leading me approximately
600’ in the first half a mile of the trip. Oh my God, my legs are on fire
and my heart is pounding in my ears.
9:45 a.m.— There are a few superhuman trailrunners blasting
ahead of me. Forget that crap. I’m not qualifying for the
Olympics. Break time for me. The rain is starting to die off a
little. Hopefully my protein bar didn’t get too soggy.
9:51 a.m.—There’s a big ass tree trunk blocking the
way. I got my footing and climbed my way around that mofo. I just
made it through 11 switchbacks. I’m not letting some stupid trunk stop
me.
| Ha! Bite me, tree trunk. |
9:57 a.m.—Fairy Falls! I’m 2 miles into the hike at
this point. The air’s still pretty chilly, but my heart beat is back to a
normal rate. AHHH.
10:30 a.m.—I’m getting deeper and deeper into the woods and
the fog is starting to get thicker and colder. Interesting that as I’m
getting closer to a location called “Devil’s Rest”, that it’s getting a
little spooky. Beautiful, but spooky.
10:34 a.m.—YES! I see a wooden sign! That’s
good. My legs are tired. I have no idea how much further I need to
go.
I’m the red dot. YES! 1.6 miles to go!
WHEW! I’m making good time too—an hour and a half and some change.
I got this!
| Why, thank you, sign. You are most helpful. |
Victory dance and protein bar
break! My legs are starting to feel squashy from the hips down, but F
it. 1.6 miles? Piece of cake.
11:07 a.m.—Oh my dear God. It’s been a straight half
mile of switchback after switchback. I think I’m gargling my heart.
I’m breathing so hard you’d think I just wolfed my way through a bag of greasy
fries. At this point, I’m willing my feet to keep moving forward, but
they’re protesting. I’m taking breaks every 20 steps. F me running.
| Gorgeous view. Stupid damn switchbacks. |
11:07 a.m.—In keeping with the creepy vibe, there’s a weird
spider tree kind of poking out from the side of the trail. Weird, but cool.
Thankfully, the trail is level for right now. My legs are pissed.
11:13 a.m.—I’m starting to cross paths with hikers that look
all fresh-faced and pumped to be alive. They give me the look of
pity. Fuckers. I look like a stumbling rag-a-muffin, stinking of
sweat. I’m pretty sure I’ve sweated through my pants at this point.
Swamp ass is unpleasant in general, but even more unpleasant in the presence of
strangers.
11:21 a.m.--Ok. Come on, Little Engine. Dear
God. I’m sure my legs are going to pop off my torso and rebel. Or
strike. Or both. I came across a weird, bloody piece of tree
bark. I’m pretty sure this isn’t Devil’s Rest, but Dante’s Inferno.
Why is the trail still going up? Dear Lord, where in the hell is
all this height coming from? I beg a hiker heading back in
desperation—how much further do I go? Did I miss it? He rolled his
eyes and checked his super-fancy hiking watch. “You’ve got 300’
vertically to go” and walked off. Thank you, Ass. That was
absolutely no help at all.
| Bloody stump. That's exactly what my legs feel like. |
11:44 a.m.—I’m pretty sure I can’t do anymore. The
thought of turning around at this point is so tempting, I’m salivating, which
looks disturbing to hikers I stumble across. I keep promising myself
biscuits and gravy if I keep going. I asked another passerby how close I
was. He said it was right around the corner! I could have hugged
him, but that would have been awkward. Suddenly, my posture’s perfect and
my legs are strutting a little “I got this” swag.
11:46 a.m.—VICTORY! DEAR GOD, YES! I MADE
IT! I would jump up and down, but despite the triumphant adrenaline rush,
my legs are still overworked and pissy. Instead, I sat on my ass and
enjoyed the rush. So good. Oh man.
Devil’s Rest in itself isn’t particularly fantastic or
spell-binding. It’s a grotto of gigantic
mossy rocks. Don’t care. To me, this place is epic.
| The look of exhausted victory. |
I wanted to take more pictures, but there were two dudes
that were wanting to snap pictures of each other eating Clif bars. I
opted to bounce before it got too PDA-ish (either with each other or the Clif
bars).
At this point, I have traversed 3.75 miles, 2,550’
vertically in 2 hours, 37 minutes. I’ve made it through half of my water
and gnawed on ½ of my protein bar. I didn’t stay at the site long.
I’m sure the gents wanted privacy with their Clif bars and expensive
cameras. I took a few minutes to enjoy the sights, and made my way down.
12:01 p.m.—Finally got to the point where I could to
sit. The way down isn’t too shabby, much to my body’s delight. My
arms and hands are joining in, getting all achy and cold. The temperature
is dipping—if I had to take a guess, it’s probably high 30’s/low 40’s. I
took a break and threw on another pair of gloves. Always pack extra
provisions and equipment. It’s worth it.
| I have on two pairs of socks. I don't have cankles. Just throwing that out there. |
12:09 a.m.—I’m up and at ‘em. The downhill switchbacks
would be Heaven, but the rain has made them slip-zones, so I still have to go
slow. Despite that though, I’m still swaggering with pride. Now I
know why those jerks were so happy when they crossed my path. I pass a
few exhausted faces while I’m on my way down and wish them luck. "It’s
gorgeous!", I tell them. "Keep going!"
| Glorious, glorious mud. |
12:32 p.m.—Still going down, down, down. I just passed
a tree that looks like it’s being eaten by another tree. Sweet.
| Om nom nom. |
1:18 p.m.—The trail is getting familiar and I’m starting to
bump into more people. I’m getting closer to civilization, which in turn
means closer to biscuits and gravy! My legs are getting the shakes right
now. I mumble a mantra of all the things I’m going to devour: "Biscuits
and gravy. Scrambled eggs. Coffee. Potatoes. Come
on. There’s food. Keep going for food."
1:20 p.m.—Ok, this area is definitely familiar. I just
passed the tree trunk that I climbed over on my way up. I am so elated, I
feel like my chest is going to explode. People are looking at me like I’m
a little bananas, but that doesn’t stop me from saying hello and “Happy
Adventures!” I’m so cheerful that I get disgusted looks from fellow hikers.
They can kiss my ass. Devil’s Rest has been conquered and I’m in the home
stretch! Happy times and sunshine!
However, my elation bit me in the ass.
Literally. I was strutting my victory walk when I slipped on some mud and
grazed my back on an exposed tree trunk on my way down.
Sonofabitch. Oh well. Almost done!
1:24 p.m.—I reach the original summit, the result of the
preliminary 11 switchbacks. Bruised back meat or no, victory is glorious.
1:33 p.m.—Making my way down #6 of the switchbacks. I
encourage the group of ladies struggling up that they only have five more to
go. They all cheered and it was awesome.
1:37 p.m.—HOLY SHIT, THERE’S MY CAR!
1:43 p.m.—V-I-C-T-O-R-Y. I’ve reached the
trailhead. My entire body is wracked with cold, tingling with muscle
spasms from head-to-toe. I can feel the bruises forming and I’m up to my
ankles in thick splatters of wet mud. God, I love hiking.
Peace out, Wahkeena and Devil’s Rest. It’s been an
amazing adventure.
It took me approximately one hour, 57 minutes to make my way
down. Summation—I hiked 7.5 miles in 4 hours and 34 minutes. Fell
down once, ate ¾ of a protein bar, and drank nearly all my water. Victory
has never been so sweet.
The End.
P.S. I headed out to get breakfast afterwards at Cup
and Saucer on Killingsworth. Forget biscuits and gravy. I wanted eggs.
I ordered the World Famous Garden Scramble
with home fries, whole wheat toast with butter and strawberry jam, and a café
au lait with soy milk. I was not lady-like in devouring the entirety of
the meal in a disturbingly short amount of time. The waitress/server gal
was really sweet, but I think I creeped her out a little, which made the whole
experience even better.
So worth it.
al
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