A Turn in Luck
- By Javier Espinosa
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- 26 Apr, 2017
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Redwoods cover the grounds where I am camped. Ferns grow intermittently. For the majority of my journey along the coast, there was fog. I moved up a mountain and at elevation, I stood with the fog at my feet.
I came upon a beautiful little harbor lined with shops, restaurants, and boats both at dock and moor. I approached a man on a boat. I was seeking transit across the bay where a wildlife refuge and dunes hailed the sights of the harbor. He agreed to take me across the bay.
My heart sang on the water of that bay. To the enjoyment of my new friend and I, we'd roll cameras and putter away to hide behind the boats at moor. We'd sit and talk with each other to pass the time. My guide was very much in love with the bay. On the one hand, he was glad to host me, so others will see its beauty. On the other hand, he told me he didn’t want to see the place change. After a few hours, we parted ways on good terms. Both pleased to have met one another and share such an enjoyable afternoon.
It was 98 degrees by midday. The sun ablaze in a cloudless sky. I was out of water some 2.5 miles up the trail. On the way back, I took some breaks soaking in the cool baths of the creek. Quite enjoyable really, but deep down I knew time was running out.
Most of the summit is a blur, but I remember being
shaky in the legs and hands, a little bit dizzy and disoriented. I stopped and threw up twice. There was little to no shade.
I kept telling myself I was going to make it. I never allowed the possibility of doubt, disappointment, failure, or giving up. I took my breaks, pressed onward and upward. I kept my thoughts on that icy cold Gatorade waiting for me and the cool AC blasting from Bertha’s vents.
I passed my time watching trout swim in the stream. Before leaving, I dipped my hands in the falls' cool pools and said, "thanks."
Heading west, I came upon a quaint little cemetery on top a hill surrounded by bluffs. It was Memorial Day. I stopped to pay my respects. Most of the vets who rest here served in WWII, others WWI.
One by one, I walked passed the American flags. The tears swelled. Flags were everywhere.
Appreciation and gratitude flush over me, and I am happy to be in such beautiful country.
I clear the sand from my sneakers, hoist my pack and trek on out into the desert once again.
