April 24, 2007 at 10:57 AM
No longer willing to risk it on the packed ice that took the place of our trail, my hiking buddies and I turned back. At first, I gingerly chose each foot placement, but tracking downward through snow is much more difficult to control than climbing it. Steady footfalls became halting slides and haphazard rump-skidding. Losing my footing, I giggled. By the time I hit the mud, I was beginning to loosen up a little. Choirs sang:“Dies irae, dies illa
solvet saeclum in favilla...”
I slipped down a chocolate pudding slope and broke the landing with my wrists, laughing. Now things were beginning to fall in place. Leaving my friends behind, I shook off my remaining reservations and ran headlong, aiming for the puddles along the way, skirting the tree roots and careening ‘round the switchbacks.
“Sanctus! Sanctus! Sa-a-a-a-nctus!”
The trees momentarily gave way to open sky and miles of land and still-frozen lakes below. The view is enormous. I picked up my pace and skipped a bit over stones. Violins began a chromatic descent:
“...repraesentet eas in lucem sanctam.
Quam olim A-a-a-brahae, Quam olim A-a-a-brahae,
Qua-a-a-a-m o-lim Abrahae promisisti et semini ejus.”
It’s big! It’s passionate! It’s air in the lungs! It’s violent and glorious and vibrant with life, swelling dramatically, lacking all timidity. I love the way it bites at life ferociously, as though it were tearing at a juicy hunk of rare steak. I love how it stretches for the heavens and descends to the depths of hell, earthy and ethereal all at once.
Were you to ask whether it was the mountain or the opera I describe, I couldn’t say.
Man, that opera is better than techno.
But every year we read about the latest maulings. Everyone knows to carry protection of some sorts. I try to hike in a group to put the odds in my favor. I'm currently shopping for a revolver, since I sold my Glock to buy my violin last year. Maybe a Taurus, titanium, something light and fail-proof. It would be basically like bear spray with a kick. You wouldn't expect to take one down with a revolver, but a well-placed blow might send them running. I hope never to have to take on a bear. My #1 nightmare is fighting bears. In my dreams, though, I can use my flying powers to escape.
A pistol might do the job point blank. I couldn't carry a rifle and run a trail at the same time, though. If you want to do that, you can be my hiking buddy any time.
Our mayor was mauled by a grizzly and had to hold his eyeball in his head while he walked over a mile to the nearest road to get help. He had two guns, only the first one jammed and the second got pinned under his arm by the bear. He eventually got it free and unloaded it. The bear ran off and they never found it. The reconstructive surgery was pretty good. You can hardly tell where the toothmarks are.
Our governor announced yesterday that she picked the grizzly to go on our state quarter. The people voted for the dog musher. Oh well.
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