“It’s fine. You arefine. You have had plenty of water. You have a protein bar, and the temperatures are still mild. You are on the marked trail and have at least three hours until sunset. You are safe.” Saying it out loud managed to buoy my determination.
I shifted my pack and carried on. After another half mile or so, I was relieved to find the trees clearing and the terrain growing flat with large gray rocks—the sure sign of the overlook was coming up.
“See. You’re fine.” I reached the cliff's edge and took in the glorious valley below.
The trees below had started to pop off this high up, and the red, oranges, and yellows exploded in bursts throughout the tall green pines like fireworks.
The last sip of water would be saved as a victory chug when I got to the main road, so I would also need to wait on the chewy chocolate protein bar that would only activate my thirst. I stretched my arms over my head, resting for a moment. I turned to head back, feeling better and confident that I had only made aminor misstep. But I was young and healthy and would look back at this and laugh one day.
That was when I noticed the storm front.
A mass of dark gray clouds loomed over the eastern horizon. Streams of water and possibly snow poured from the quickly moving front like a massive eraser dragging over the earth’s surface to remove all color.
“Okay. You’re okay. Just need to head back with more speed.” I pulled out my phone, and with the towers in sight, I had a couple of bars of service.
“Hallelujah,” I mumbled.
I texted my dad and then decided to text Levi, sharing my exact location. The map wouldn’t load with the little bit of reception, so I continued to trust my mental math and keep a cool head.
I would be fine. It was far more downhill on the return. I could make good time.
Without any further discussion with myself, I began to walk/jog back the last half of the trail. I couldn’t think about how much I had left. I would be okay.
“Please don’t end up on the news,” I grumbled to myself.
No matter how I planned and thought things through, life had a way of throwing unexpected curveballs at me when I was distracted. I wasn’t a fan. I couldn’t blame anybody else for this either. It was my own stupid mistake. I’d been lost in thought and not focusing, and this was what happened.A consequence of my own actions, I could almost hear Kevin’s judgmental voice explain.
I wasn’t stupid. I was going to be okay.
As if to warn me, the wind kicked up, slicing right through my ironically named windbreaker.
“You had one job,” I said to the useless jacket. The wind brought the smell of moisture and colder temperatures with it.
Sure enough, the temperature dropped with every passing minute. The gathering clouds blocked out any light breaking through the canopy. It was light enough to see my feet scrambling over rocks and dirt, but just barely. The adrenaline kept me numb to the cold for now. I focused only on my feet, going as fast as possible while remaining safe. I recognized a few spots on the trail and felt reassurance of my plan.
I had this.
I was okay. I was kicking myself for walking to the trailhead instead of driving up from the cabin. It was less than a mile, and I thought it would only add to my short, pleasant walk. Now, when I got there, it would be almost another mile walk down the scary main road, possibly in the pouring rain at that point. Nope. Not thinking about that right now. One thing at a time.
Then the first drops of fat, freezing rain hit my face and blurred my vision.
“You’re okay. Stay calm.”
Maybe it was the adrenaline or the stacking fears or the rain falling heavier and soaking through my thin layers, but shivers began to wrack through me, causing my teeth to chatter. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Just like my whole life. You do the next step. One choice and the next.
When my foot slipped, and I fell, the last remaining calm began to shatter. I yelped out more in surprise than anything, but it was lost in the rain hammering the leaves. I pulled myself up and refused to look at my leg but felt cold, wet air hitting exposed, burning skin.
I wasn’t a stupid person. I knew better than this, and now I would be a cliché. I was going to die with everybody thinking I was an idiot.
“They’re just pants. You can still walk. You’re fine.” Even as I said it, I felt my eyes burning hot from tears and not the snow-rain combo.
I was limping heavily now, body frozen and soaked.
Just keep going.
One more step.
People have made it through way worse.
