*** continued from previous post ***
I took a deep breath and sat up, stretching the cramps that had set into my arms and hands.
I surveyed my surroundings. Well, we definitely were at the top. There were some rolling hills in front of us, but nothing to compare to what we had just navigated. Later, I would discover that we had climbed about 1700 feet in 12 Kilometers. Or, in devil-speak Canadian measurements, about 4.5 liters a minute. Not too shabby. After I restored my heart rate to a manageable level, and decided that I hadn't wet myself, (okay, who am I kidding - hadn't wet myself TOO severely), I took stock.
While we were level, the road surface had not improved. The rain had not improved. Your Mother's mood had not improved by any appreciable degree. Our hypothermia situation had not improved - in fact, it was worse. The temperature had plummeted as we climbed into the Rockies. And, like a big, moldering mutant strawberry cradled in the congealed whipped cream of a day-old Belgian Waffle, twilight was descending. - rapidly.
But, on the positive side, we could be hit by lightening any moment, so there was always hope.
"What do we do now?", Mom asked in a dazed voice. "Do we turn around?"
I thought, however briefly, of turning the bike around and riding down the mountain, and my boys - and you know what I mean by 'the boys' - don't feign ignorance - shot straight up into my throat, through my head, and were dancing somewhere above the tree tops trying to escape. The only thing worse than coming UP that road in this weather, was going DOWN that road in this weather. Miles of braking down the side of a gravel mountain didn't appeal to me. Somewhere, in the recesses of my brain a tiny voice reminded me that I would, at some point, need to take the bike down this very same road. I hate that voice. It's annoying. All high-pitched and squeaky. And preachy to boot. And usually right.
Damn you internal monologue!
"I think I would rather feed marshmallows to alligators with my lips than try and ride back down that road,” I said and wiped rainwater from my glasses. It was an exercise in futility. "Hopefully the worst is behind us. Let's just push on and get to the Lodge."
"Does the GPS say we are close?"
"I don't know. When we met those jeeps Sweet Alice let out a tiny scream then passed out."
Mom pondered this for a moment. "Was passing out an option? I wish I'd known that. I would have blanked out as soon as we hit the gravel."
Let me say this again: Your mother is a wise, wise woman.
*** the journey continues ***
Tampilkan postingan dengan label hypothermia. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label hypothermia. Tampilkan semua postingan
Selasa, 08 Maret 2011
Rabu, 02 Februari 2011
For I Am From THE STATES!!!!!
*** continued from previous post ***
It's about this time that I come to my senses, and realize I'm wet. Wet and cold. Wet and cold and confused and not entirely convinced that we are not about to encounter cannibals. Don't let anyone ever tell you that hypothermia can't be fun. I wanted to curl up next to the bike, on the black tarmac of that wet parking lot, and take a nice long nap. Slip sweetly into the river of sleep to ride forever on dream currents of fancy. The only thing that stopped me was that nagging urge to pee. The human body is an amazing thing. All kinds of checks and balances.
So rather than drift into oblivion, I busied myself locking up the bike, getting my collapsible cane from the trunk, and making my own way towards the Centre which, although it is less than 200 yards away - or 7892 grams in Canadianeese - I can barely see through the rain and the fog and the mist. But I steel myself for I am from 'THE STATES' and will never give in, never give up, and never. . . ummm never . . . ummm . . . never go to bed without brushing my teeth.
Did I mention this place is big? Huge. As I approach the massive, wood framed double glass doors I see a family milling about the entry way. Milling is like loitering only with more hand gestures. The family consists of three kids - two adults. Or maybe two adults, two kids and an evil troll - I didn't get a good look. Concern is written on their face like talentless graffiti on a police car window. Have you ever watched a dog trying to cross a busy highway? That was them, trying to make a break for their vehicle between deluges and sprint for the car.
As I do the three-prong shuffle to the door they held each other close, the adults clutching their children's shoulder with the grip of a paranoid hawk. Evidently I was the deciding factor in their little dilemma. Right before I stepped up on the sidewalk they made a dash, flying past me with brochures touting "See Canada's Unspoiled Wilderness", and "Visit Lake Louise in Banff National Park", and "STDs The Canadian Way!" positioned over their heads like cub scout pup-tents.
Before you ask, I have no idea what's the difference between Canadian STDs and regular, good ol' USA STDs. I don't think the family picked them for their content as the publication was large enough to shelter at least two of the trolls.
*** the journey continues tomorrow ***
It's about this time that I come to my senses, and realize I'm wet. Wet and cold. Wet and cold and confused and not entirely convinced that we are not about to encounter cannibals. Don't let anyone ever tell you that hypothermia can't be fun. I wanted to curl up next to the bike, on the black tarmac of that wet parking lot, and take a nice long nap. Slip sweetly into the river of sleep to ride forever on dream currents of fancy. The only thing that stopped me was that nagging urge to pee. The human body is an amazing thing. All kinds of checks and balances.
So rather than drift into oblivion, I busied myself locking up the bike, getting my collapsible cane from the trunk, and making my own way towards the Centre which, although it is less than 200 yards away - or 7892 grams in Canadianeese - I can barely see through the rain and the fog and the mist. But I steel myself for I am from 'THE STATES' and will never give in, never give up, and never. . . ummm never . . . ummm . . . never go to bed without brushing my teeth.
Did I mention this place is big? Huge. As I approach the massive, wood framed double glass doors I see a family milling about the entry way. Milling is like loitering only with more hand gestures. The family consists of three kids - two adults. Or maybe two adults, two kids and an evil troll - I didn't get a good look. Concern is written on their face like talentless graffiti on a police car window. Have you ever watched a dog trying to cross a busy highway? That was them, trying to make a break for their vehicle between deluges and sprint for the car.
As I do the three-prong shuffle to the door they held each other close, the adults clutching their children's shoulder with the grip of a paranoid hawk. Evidently I was the deciding factor in their little dilemma. Right before I stepped up on the sidewalk they made a dash, flying past me with brochures touting "See Canada's Unspoiled Wilderness", and "Visit Lake Louise in Banff National Park", and "STDs The Canadian Way!" positioned over their heads like cub scout pup-tents.
Before you ask, I have no idea what's the difference between Canadian STDs and regular, good ol' USA STDs. I don't think the family picked them for their content as the publication was large enough to shelter at least two of the trolls.
*** the journey continues tomorrow ***
Jumat, 21 Januari 2011
It's NEVER Lupus!
*** continued from previous post ***
"Oh yeah, we get some heavy weather here in dese here mountains. Weather report said it was gonna rain this afternoon. In fact, they said it was gonna rain all week." He looked at me as I began to shiver. "Bummer that, you being on the bike and all."
Show no fear . . . show no fear, I chant in my head.
"Pfffffttttt. We never let a little bad weather stop us," I managed to say through chattering teeth. "You know the saying."
He looked puzzled for a minute, glancing around at his fellow Canucks to see if anyone would volunteer the answer. None did. Now I was going to have to make something up.
"Well, they say. . . ."
Everyone leaned a bit closer.
"They say. . . ." I falter. I need an ending - something dynamite. Several things go through my head. What do they say? 'Take your vitamins.' But I don't really see how that applies. 'Wear a condom.' Sage advice, but not appropriate for the circumstances. 'If life gives you lemons, take the frickin' things back and demand a refund, or at least an in-store credit.' That one is a possibility. 'There are two things in this world you should never trust - Carney Folk and mobile Dentists.' Solid wisdom right there, but again lacking that certain spark. 'If it's too good to be true you're probably hallucinating." Well, you can't argue with that. But. . . but. . . suddenly, inspiration strikes!
"It's NEVER Lupus,” I say with a satisfied smile.
Ha Ha! Hoisted on your own petard! Refute that logic silly Canadians!
I would like to take a moment and ask you if you have ever experienced a blank stare? A truly 'cogs-turning-in-the-machinery-but-nobody-to-push-the-start-button' stare? Time slowed. Sound and motion stopped. I could feel the mood turning.
Did I really just say that? What the hell? Lupus? I realize that I may be suffering from hypothermia. Curse you Gregory House! Begone demon doctor of the airwaves!
"I mean," I stumble, "that if you don't ride in the rain, it's not Lupus."
Well this is going nowhere. "No wait, I may have gotten my metaphors crossed. OH! I remember! If you don't ride in the rain, you're a *&$#@ pussy."
Protip: Profanity is always a proper choice and a good way to garner respect. It makes any situation more fun for everyone involved. But you knew that. You're in the Navy for God's sakes.
Had my ploy been successful? I look around at the faces staring at me for reassurance. The theme from "Jeopardy" is suddenly pumped over the boats PA system. My suspicions have been confirmed. The captain is an ass-hat.
"Oh," says scooter-boy, and offers a hearty laugh, "boy that there is the truth. You can tell the bar-hoppers from the real riders. You never see the bar-hoppers in the rain!"
The group agrees and we all share a good chuckle. Yet I see the signs, I know what will happen next. I've reached that certain plateau in my social skills where I go from absolutely amusing and entertaining to - and this is the absolute truth - dead on annoying. It's a short trip.
I'm cold, wet, shivering, slightly confused and out of ammo. In other words, I got nuthin'.
Luckily the rain is now coming down so viciously that even the die-hards have no choice but to return to their vehicles.
*** the journey continues. . . probably ***
"Oh yeah, we get some heavy weather here in dese here mountains. Weather report said it was gonna rain this afternoon. In fact, they said it was gonna rain all week." He looked at me as I began to shiver. "Bummer that, you being on the bike and all."
Show no fear . . . show no fear, I chant in my head.
"Pfffffttttt. We never let a little bad weather stop us," I managed to say through chattering teeth. "You know the saying."
He looked puzzled for a minute, glancing around at his fellow Canucks to see if anyone would volunteer the answer. None did. Now I was going to have to make something up.
"Well, they say. . . ."
Everyone leaned a bit closer.
"They say. . . ." I falter. I need an ending - something dynamite. Several things go through my head. What do they say? 'Take your vitamins.' But I don't really see how that applies. 'Wear a condom.' Sage advice, but not appropriate for the circumstances. 'If life gives you lemons, take the frickin' things back and demand a refund, or at least an in-store credit.' That one is a possibility. 'There are two things in this world you should never trust - Carney Folk and mobile Dentists.' Solid wisdom right there, but again lacking that certain spark. 'If it's too good to be true you're probably hallucinating." Well, you can't argue with that. But. . . but. . . suddenly, inspiration strikes!
"It's NEVER Lupus,” I say with a satisfied smile.
Ha Ha! Hoisted on your own petard! Refute that logic silly Canadians!
I would like to take a moment and ask you if you have ever experienced a blank stare? A truly 'cogs-turning-in-the-machinery-but-nobody-to-push-the-start-button' stare? Time slowed. Sound and motion stopped. I could feel the mood turning.
Did I really just say that? What the hell? Lupus? I realize that I may be suffering from hypothermia. Curse you Gregory House! Begone demon doctor of the airwaves!
"I mean," I stumble, "that if you don't ride in the rain, it's not Lupus."
Well this is going nowhere. "No wait, I may have gotten my metaphors crossed. OH! I remember! If you don't ride in the rain, you're a *&$#@ pussy."
Protip: Profanity is always a proper choice and a good way to garner respect. It makes any situation more fun for everyone involved. But you knew that. You're in the Navy for God's sakes.
Had my ploy been successful? I look around at the faces staring at me for reassurance. The theme from "Jeopardy" is suddenly pumped over the boats PA system. My suspicions have been confirmed. The captain is an ass-hat.
"Oh," says scooter-boy, and offers a hearty laugh, "boy that there is the truth. You can tell the bar-hoppers from the real riders. You never see the bar-hoppers in the rain!"
The group agrees and we all share a good chuckle. Yet I see the signs, I know what will happen next. I've reached that certain plateau in my social skills where I go from absolutely amusing and entertaining to - and this is the absolute truth - dead on annoying. It's a short trip.
I'm cold, wet, shivering, slightly confused and out of ammo. In other words, I got nuthin'.
Luckily the rain is now coming down so viciously that even the die-hards have no choice but to return to their vehicles.
*** the journey continues. . . probably ***
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