smooth stones and basked on the large boulders, warmed by the sun.
I was invigorated by the energy and spirit of my companions, but I let
them poke around the riverbed while I found a comfortable slab. I tilted
my head back and let the breaking light immerse me. I couldn’t tell if
the little dark patches under my bare knees were small shadows or if they
were just dirty, but they were warm, so it didn’t matter to me. In fact, it
kind of took me back. I was enjoying life the way I used to as a child. I
had always biked down our road with my brothers to goof around in the
river and pretend we were in The Lord of The Rings. We even used to go
on “journeys” where we would pretend sticks were swords or spears and
the cows in the wooded fields were goblin hordes. Not a day went by that
we didn’t go outside and get a little dirty. Adventure was my craft as a
child, and I could feel it returning to me.
We probably would have stayed until dark, but there was dinner
to be made and bear bags to be hung. The night held a discussion of the
reading from Ktaadn by Thoreau, a piece that he wrote while summiting
the highest peak in Maine. His experience was life-changing and his
reaching the summit was a surreal experience. A famous line was shouted
from his ascent: “Contact! Contact! Who are we? Where are we?” To all
of us sitting around the makeshift lantern-fire, it made very little sense
why this man would be shouting like a maniac. He sounded like he was
meeting aliens or quite frankly losing his mind. We ended up jesting
about Thoreau’s false sense of wilderness, as he often wrote grandly about
nature but would frequently shy away from its true character. It scared
him. It scared him! And we read of John Muir spending weeks in the wild
with nothing more than tea and bread. Muir found the tallest trees he
could find in thunderstorms just to see what it was like up there in the
wind and rain. Now there was a man of the true wilderness and natural
condition.
The trip could have ended after that night and I would have been
satisfied. I could have left the wilds feeling renewed and satisfied. But I
was ignorant to the day that lay ahead. I would not have known the earth
in such intimacy as I experienced thereafter. You see, our guide, a spr y,
bearded fella with the character of an explorer and a great big heart, had
realized the potential of our group. We were quite an enthusiastic, fit
bunch, and as such took on the boldest of endeavors. To our own fortune,
he decided to challenge our courage that day. Leaving our main packs at
54