In
the movie Forrest Gump, there is a
point where Forrest finds that he is smack dab in the middle of a particular
unpleasantness, to which he tells a bystander, who he hands the shirt that he
has wiped his face off with, that “it happens.” The bystander clarifies as to
whether Forrest means what he thinks, and Forrest indeed agrees that, yeah, “it
happens.”
And
that’s the thing about having a hiking accident. It happens. We can plan and be
careful. We can be here now. We can take breaks or stop when we’re getting
tired. We can buy the best fitting clothing and all the coolest high-tech
equipment or stock up all of our first aid gear and carry a heavy bag that
contains all of it to make sure that we have everything possible for every possible
contingency that we or someone else could encounter, and we can still find that
“it happens.”
Rain
happens. Bear maulings happen. Bee stings happen. Rattlesnake bites happen. Avalanches
happen. Unexpected flash floods and blizzards happen. Hurricane strength winds
happen. Unruly hikers and their angry yipping and barking dogs happen. Thievery
at group shelters happens. Feet plunging through snowy drifts on river banks
happen. Swift rivers blocking progress happens. Hot weather that leads to
dehydration happens. Faulty equipment happens. The inability to climb mountain
walls happens. Sasquatch, chupacabra, extra-terrestrial, and pukwudgie
encounters happen. Changes since the map and guidebook were written happen.
Getting lost happens. Blisters developing and toenails falling off happen.
And of course, slips
and falls happen.
Everything that Edward
Abbey informed us that it was our right and privilege to have is something that
can happen in the harsh forbidding desert, the huge rock-strewn mountains, the
deep, wet swamps, and the gentle country parks.
And guess what? It can
happen anytime, anywhere. In dry or wet conditions… on flat or sloped ground…
with or without the assistance of rocks… in the presence of a jinx hiking
partner or alone… every now and again, we all take a nice trip and have a good
fall. I’ve bashed my shin up but good. I’ve landed on my arms forcefully while
thrusting forward, out of control, and like every other victim of calamity, I’ve
screamed out in profanity. Fortunately, I’ve always made it out OK or OK enough
in that I’ve only ever limped out with a bloody bruise, which led to a good
infection.
In short, I’ve had
problems, but I’ve never really been down in it; however, I a lot of other
people have, and this is the story of one of those people, who to her resume
credit, now has a mega-accident to her credit.
Nevertheless, in the 7
years that we have been hiking together, we’ve seen and heard about our fair
share of things that happened to others, and we’ve experienced some minor
setbacks ourselves. Nevertheless, when “it happens,” the individual finds out
whether he or she is ready for it or not.
+++
Somewhere out there on
the Internet is a list of all kinds of statistics that tell us how often and
how likely it is that “it happens,” but truth be told, as we outdoor
adventurers are entering into a potentially chaotic system, not too dissimilar
from buckling up in a plane seat or behind the wheel of our automobiles, we run
the risk of death or injury in everything that we do. It’s not quite the same
odds that the guys who they made the movie The
Right Stuff about endured, but it’s a significant number. Laurence Gonzales
gets a lot of good mileage in his books regarding this scenario, and let me say
that I heartily recommend all of his books since it’s important to think ahead
about what we would do in these scenarios.
His books aren’t about
what fancy survival knives that you should carry to be like Rambo, and for
this, he does leave some people shaking their heads about what they’re reading.
Instead, he talk about the mind as the most important tool available. This is
echoed in the book Hatchet, where the
main character Brian remembers how his English teacher once stated that, “You
are your most valuable asset.” Being of sound mind allows the body to be
controlled a lot better than to just have a strong out of control body acting
against the interests of the self. Sure, a strong body helps us get over
hurdles better, but in the end, the mind rules all. It can control some
scenarios, but it can’t control everything.
Regarding survival,
Gonzales knows as well as all of us know, for that matter, just the fact that
other people enter into these risky activities puts the rest of us at risk by
at least a small percentage. Planes could crash out of the sky and land on our
house. A car could drive through our front doors. It happens. Nevertheless, the
likelihood that we end up as a statistic somewhere should decrease with
knowledge and preparedness; however, as Aron Ralston will attest to, the “it”
of being a statistic can happen to anyone. Somewhere in the Venn diagram
between hubris / adventure / chaotic systems is a bull’s eye that says, “Hey,
guess what? You’re officially meat!”
That’s what happened to
Aron Ralston in the canyon at Blue John. That’s what happened to Joe Simpson in
the Peruvian Andes. That’s what happened to all of Jon Krakauer’s “characters”
on Everest in 1996, and that’s what happened to the Sherpas on Everest last
year. Outdoor magazines and newspaper articles blast headlines of missing /
injured / dead hikers all of the time. We celebrate the successes, and we gasp
at the failure because that could be us.
Let’s be honest; in the
hiking community, we all make mistakes. We regroup and learn our lesson. We
take our punishments when necessary, and we avoid repeating the same actions
that led to mistakes again… theoretically. We grow and change to stop being
what it was that led us to these places where the mistake occurred.
Nevertheless,
sometimes, our mistake is the chaotic system. Other times, it’s our faults. In
still other scenarios, we rely on others to help us when we shouldn’t
necessarily be so trusting of our situation with them. In other scenarios, it’s
our fear that seems to bring us to our demise.
There are many ways to
get into a predicament that we can’t get out of. All we have to do is enter
into the system. In other cases, we find that after the initial fear, there is
something stronger and more powerful that is located deep within ourselves, and
even if it takes being awoken by something powerful or assisted with a rescue
from outside, there is a sense of transition that is going to occur, which will
outweigh the situation that brought it on.
And that moment of
becoming is what happened to my wife Heather in April 2015, when she and I went
hiking at Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area in Nevada.
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