And it became too much, so I called it, and left. We were at +10K ft., 45 car minutes from reception, and “civilization”, but all I could think of was to be alone. I started down the asphalt. Rhythmic vibrations rippling through the flesh of my legs, step, by step. Paying forward to the rest of my body until it reached my head. Silencing the echoes. Bushwhacking to a forest service road a few 100 ft below. Switching pitch black asphalt, to pink toned, sand colored gravel for another few miles. Fear of freaks, bears, and maybe a cat. Unprepared for this, I grab a prickly walking stick, which could have been labeled “In Case Of Cat/Bear/Freak - Poke”... I stop. Inhale. Feel slight panic. Not so much for what I was embarking on, more so what I was aiming to purge, or hoping for a revelation to appear. A solution nowhere to be found, irrational emotions, and a hamster wheel that brings it all around. Over and over. And over. And. Over. In my world I have always wished for concrete, tangible threats to fight. A black rider is favorable to the psychological terror balance of our world, where evil, isn’t always all evil, or at least they claim not to be. I start to lose my breath. It is strained, and I’m almost running. I stop, and tell myself that I have a good 4 or more hours to walk, so I need to pace myself. Bushwhacking, and sliding down the slope to the forest service road, I feel real for a second. Until the thick, dark thoughts surround me again. Anger at multiple you’s. Anger at self. Headphones in. Music on. Volume up. Depeche Mode, New Order, Joy Division, Talk Talk. Alice Boman, Westerman, Labradford, Nitemoves. I see a freak. No it’s “just a man”. Thunder in the distance. I slip and slide into a steep, narrow valley, that opens up into a meadow. Tall spears of mullein grow scattered all over. Diagonally across, two deep trenches reveal remnants of the old Pueblo, and Pecos merchant trade road. The trenches, deep wheel tracks. Suddenly I feel real again. This is what labor was like for people before industrialization. Healthy thinking. Good. I’m sure they took their time. I was not... Instead I was diseased by our modern day society... In frustration avalanching my way down the mountain. The pace was high all the way. I needed to make sure that I was at a certain part of the trail before sundown. The only lamp being my iPhone... This “certain part of the trail” is frequently a kill site. The area has multiple mountain lion, and bear territories. I only had my prickly walking stick... Able to see new sights, and able to register that the sights were pretty, but I couldn’t connect to the kind of emotion surrounding such visions. My heart too dark, and in the way of my breathing. I was so up in my head on the matter over which I was processing, that I couldn’t settle in a peaceful state of mind. So I continue forward, sensing that this is what my body needs to do in order to allow safe passage of thoughts through my body, and brain. I reach an intersection, and realize that beyond this intersection I had never set foot. I stop, inhale, and am suddenly struck by the first sense of relaxation all day. I could now hear the river rushing over rocks. Evening birds singing. I silence my music for a while, and decide to walk without. Mostly as I was closing in on the narrow valley, and I was potential prey... It was getting dim, as the setting sun was behind some clouds. River crossing, and I call it out loudly in appreciation. The other side an otherworldly feeling creeps up. As if there is a presence of spirits pushing goods on me, or people waving to me from the meadow where there used to be a stone house. I ramble forward because I don’t have time to sit with them, or be with the sensation of them. I had to make the narrow cliff canyon trail connecting back to the main asphalt road, as I had many miles, and some uphill, to go... I was drenched in sweat. Then suddenly - Down the path, another freak appears. This time also “just a man”. I loosen the grip on my stick... Exchange a couple of well meaning words, and wishes. Continue in the golden light of the setting sun. Finally I turn off the main path to the trail leading to, and through the canyon. Blood taste. Sweat dripping. The narrow cliff walls combined with foliage makes this a great hunting spot for both beast, and human... I push on. Hoping I don’t pass out... I was reaching my limit but had at least a couple of miles to go, and some of them on asphalt... I slip, stumble. I have to tap into another emergency reserve of stress hormones. Through the valley, and not a sight of kill this time... But maybe half an hour later there would have been... I refuse to slow down until I reach the top of a ridge. There I finally allow two minutes of stillness. Blue hour is setting in, and I start crying. I take a deep breath and start over. Walking. Again. The problem with stopping when hiking is that you begin to feel how tired you are. Therefore I prefer to just continue. Down through ponderosa pine forests I scramble. Headphones back in ears. When I finally reach the road, a sudden relief sets in, but it only lasts for a few minutes, as a car pulls up and asks me if I want a ride. I say “hell no, now go”. This time it was not a man, but a freak. Scenes from Twin Peaks, and Fire Walk With Me come flickering out of my memory bank, I quickly shove them back in, and disable the feature. Increase pace yet again, and I’m amazed I still have more to give... The fine muscles that keep the bones in your feet snug, are beginning to ache. For every step, the elasticity in my stride is flatter, heavier. My phone signals a text message from my significant other. And suddenly I feel that I am done. I throw my stick in the bush at the side of the road, and stop.
