Monday, August 1, 2011

Steamboat Rock

I've already admitted I'm not in good shape.  This could be a bit of a problem for someone who wants to hike 500 miles in 50 days.  But maybe not, I mean, that's only 10 miles a day.  But, I figure I should at least make an attempt at fitness if I'm going to label myself as a 'hiker'.  So I've decided I'm going to be a little more diligent about hiking daily (or at least walking)...and more than the usual 15 minutes around my neighborhood so my dog can take a poo.  (calm down...I don't let her go in the neighbors' yard!)  The day before we left for camping, I splurged and bought an ipod player. (I know, I haven't even bought a back pack yet.  There is time...and I need to train first, right?  And training means good tunes, everybody knows that ;) I could only afford to throw about 20 songs on there, but I figured that was enough to get me up and down Steamboat Rock...which I resolved to do every day on our camping trip.

this is supposed to be artistic, in case you were wondering

 I almost succeeded...I was pretty faithful except for the day we got there, the day we left, and the day I did that other hike because I needed recovery time from blood loss. (I guess that only leaves me with three times I actually did much for bragging rights) 

this is also artistic...see how the rock is not in the middle, aka, 'asymmetric'? 
And I've never even taken photography classes!

I was excited to head up my last time during dusk, so I could get some good pictures.  I knew that once you were at the summit, you had the option of doing a loop around the top which would bring you to the back side where I was hoping to get some good sunset shots. 
One problem... I'm about as good with time management as I am with navigation.  Put them together and you have me realizing there's a good chance I'm going to have to crawl down this thing in the dark. 

And trust me, this is not something people should be doing--it's really steep and I fell on my butt several times in the light of day.  Even scarier was my imaginations of Ken's thoughts..."Why is this woman so intent on killing herself?  Why do I have to leave this cozy fire and try to go rescue her a@@?"  Ugh, I'm just not into being the damsel in distress. (I wish I was, cause I'm pretty good at it) I figured my only option was to run like hell, which I did.  I cut straight across that plateau, and just prayed I'd recognize where I was at when I got to the other side. (And not get bit by a rattlesnake in the process) 

And it felt kinda awesome, actually, ...except for all the pokey plant things sticking in my pants and socks. (Who wears velor sweat pants hiking? Didn't I say I needed a hiking 'What Not to Wear' intervention?) And as I was coming down the last stretch with just a few minutes of light left, I thought I saw Ken riding his bike toward the trail head, obviously coming to my rescue.  I waved frantically..."Look, I'm alive!  Calm your fears, dry your tears...she lives!"   That guy must have thought I was nuts.  I found Ken at the fire with his nightly cordial.  "Oh, your back."  Suddenly I was annoyed that he hadn't been worrying about me.  Women can be impossible, I know.

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