A Child’s Story…

Once upon a time. In a far away land. A land of magic and whimsy. Where dragons fly threw the sky. Animals of the forest, rivers and seas all had voices and stories

One day Otter came upon a small human child. What was a human child doing in the forest she thought. Otter took the child and ran off to the wise old owl. The owl told Otter that she had the motherly instinct and human children need to play and she should take the child as her own.

One day an evil witch came to the forest and saw the child. A rage came over the witch and she took the child from Otter and began to consume her piece by piece. The animals of the forest, rivers and sea saw what was happening and summoned up all their mental powers and caused the witch to turn to stone. The final words the witch uttered was a curse that would haunt the child for the rest of her life.

None of the animals could come up with a solution and the child was plagued with dreams and hallucinations that would throw her into fits. Finally one day she broke into a hundred pieces and scattered on the ground. The animals were unable to save her and they all mourned the loss of this sweet young innocent child.

A hawk flying overhead saw the pieces and heard the sad thoughts and flew off to the vast desert where he found the elephant. The wise old elephant heard the story and contemplated his answer carefully. What seemed like an eternity passed then elephant spoke up and said one word LOVE.

You must all get together and work together with each of your powers and surround this child with all your love. There is strength and great power in love but you must believe with all your heart you can do this. One of you will have to give the ultimate sacrifice of your own life for this child needs a heart. The witch stole her heart and left her filled with echos and torments…horrors no child should endure.

The hawk flew back to the tribe and told them what the elephant had seen in his vision and how they could bring the child back and break the spell. But one of you must give your life to show your love and give your heart to this child. Her heart was stolen by the witch and she will remain tormented without a new loving heart.

Otter stepped up without thought, compelled by her deep love for this child. I have felt the deep sorrow of this child, I have comforted her fears at night and sat with her when she was not well. My heart is already with her. At that point Otter plunged a knife deep into her chest and took out her heart and blessed the child and died.

All the animals of the forest, rivers and seas saw the compassion of the Otter, all put the pieces of the child and the heart of the Otter and formed a tight circle and began to hum.

A whirlwind picked up the pieces and carried them into the sky. The animals continued their vigilance and continued to pour out all the compassion and love they held.

Days later a sleeping child appeared back in the forest as the animals slept. She walked to each and entered their dreams. She told each of them that it was the love and compassion that freed her from this spell. She owed them each her life. The noise and echos, the horrors and nightmares had vanished. In her beat the heart of the Otter and she would learn to nurture herself as Otter did. This would be her promise for the life given.

A Time of Change

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As my silent inner war rages, I am forced to put on a happy face and try to blend in. The struggle inside is exacerbated by daily stresses I am trying to control. My little blue helper has finally quit making me sick… is it working? The fact that I have to take any chemicals in order to keep on an even keel haunts me everyday as I screw off the bottle’s cap and swallow the blue pill inside. Why have I lost the ability to control my outbursts? Why am I so angry inside? My life is good yet these demons rage on inside in the recesses of my brain… my very soul.

I studied with a shaman last time things got this out of control. For a year we met 3 days a week. For the first six months he never spoke to me. We would walk through the woods in silence. We would sit in silence in the sweat lodge, the only sound was him singing and playing his hypnotic drum. We would sit around the fire at night and stare into the flames, not making a sound. Little did I know, this was all part of my healing. Sitting in silence makes you face your demons head on, with no human outside influences. Finally, one Saturday evening around the fire, he spoke in the softest voice… “you are no longer angry, now we can begin.” Six more months he taught me all he could.

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That was back in 1987/8. Today I remember the feelings I felt, the inner struggles that waged on. I remember the serenity I finally achieved after months of hard work and those weekends in the woods. In the end he gave me a native flute and told me that this would be my avenue to sooth the angry beast inside. Even though I long for that serenity again, I can no seem to find those tools I learned. I find myself seeking out guidance in the form of meditation, Thai chi, maybe I should just become a Buddhist. There are people out there that feed on people’s longings, but only for profit. Then there are places that really do sincerely cater to the desire to become whole again, to find peace, to nourish the tired, battered soul. I have determined that this is what I must do.

I spoke of my struggles with depression in my last post. I hate being so selfish and dragging those around me into my torment. I wish that this would just all go away and I could just go back to being happy go lucky, not a care in the world. I am caught between a rock and a hard space. The more I feed into this, the more out of control I feel. When I was younger, and not as responsible as I am today, it was easy to just blow off things in the pursuit of eternal happiness…if there really is such an animal. I did find a moment in time of devine serenity and having tasted it once, I am in search of this elusive butterfly again.

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Two Miles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Home Sweet Home
I woke up several days later in a much starker environment than when I last was awake. The smell of sterile bed sheets, freshly sweated on pillows and a voice echoing in my brain, “Dr. Granger code blue.” I was in the hospital. No idea how I got here. In a panic I sat straight up and yelled out, “Breeze!” A nurse came rushing in. I was sobbing uncontrollably. “Where’s my dog? He saved my life!” The nurse tried to console me but another came in with a syringe and poked it into my IV and said, “that should work soon.”
I was awakened by a kind soft hand stroking my hair. It was my girlfriend. She was holding my hand and talking softly to me. I opened my eyes and looked at her. Her eyes opened wide and she said, “welcome back traveler.” The doctor came in and also welcome me back and explained I had really done a number to myself and it was a damn good thing I brought my dog along or I might not have made it.
Turns out the gash on my head was very deep and I had cracked my scull and caused a bruise on my brain. He told me I was lucky to be alive. Just then a 70 lbs beast appeared on the bottom of my bed and laid down beside me. He nudged my hand until I pet him. “Good boy” I whispered. The doc said I could go home as soon as I was able to stand on my own. He told me I had been in a coma like state for four days after the medi-vac arrived. He told me I was a lucky woman and that maybe I should not hike alone in conditions like this. I informed him I wasn’t alone and perhaps if I had been with another human there may have been two casualties. He concurred, signed my chart and welcomed me back home.

Two Miles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Six

Chapter Six: The Final Miles

After a good nights sleep, I woke to the pink glow of the morning’s dawn on a few high clouds. I daydreamed of eggs and bacon frying in a pan. The smell of fresh biscuits and sweet creamy butter. The feel of a soft tongue kissing my ear… Breeze you little shit! I stretched and sat up and evaluated my head wound. It was beginning to scab up some and still felt quite deep and painful. I retired the towel and crawled out of my tent. On the outside of the vestibule was something I couldn’t quiet make out. It was a pheasant hen. Breeze had provided again.

I pulled on my long johns and fleece shirt and went about stoking the fire back up. Breeze sat and watched I as prepared the hen as best as I could to be breakfast. Again Breeze got the parts I couldn’t quite stomach including a lot of internal stuff I couldn’t quite identify. I gave him the last of his canned food. I was down to two bags of food. Everything else had been washed out of the pack when it tore open. I was glad I separated the freeze dried food from the fresh and canned food. At least I had something and with Breeze being my provider, I doubt we would starve.

I pulled out my Garmin to see what kind of signal I might get… if it worked at all. The screen had been shattered and one button pushed inside. I knew it was waterproof but with a busted screen I didn’t want to take the chance of powering it up till I was sure it was good and dry. I had separated the batteries and left the back cover off. Wrapped it in my wool sock, yes I only had one left, and hooked it to the top of my pack where it might get some sun. It was the moment of truth. This was the biggest clearing I had come across in two days. Would it power up and triangulate? If it did would I be able to see anything on the busted screen?

I put it back in the sock and broke down camp. I figured I would need to get to the lake by noon and I might catch another hiker passing through. I still felt like the Trail should be north. Breeze was excited to hit the trail again. I pulled out the Garmin and flicked the switch. At first there was a sorta white glow on the busted screen, then a flash or two of color. I watched with my fingers and toes crossed. My heart sunk as the screen went black. Damn boy, we are on our own…

I could see the mountains in the distance, snow capped and silent. I could see a familiar landmark that I remembered reading about in the guide book. I pulled out my phone that had been saved by days in a bag of freeze dried chicken and rice, and opened up the picture I had taken. I guessed the trail shouldn’t be too far off and with the trees thinning out I might actually find it today and soon. I set off towards the north keeping the land mark always at 11:00. At 9:36am we stumbled upon the trail. I dropped my pack and scrambled up a tree and could see the lake I had seen from the top of the last pass! We had found the right trail. Only a few miles to go…

Two MIles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Five

Chapter Five: In the End… It’s the Little Things That Matter

Dawn comes early this time of year. Over twenty four hours have passed since I woke up in my own bed, complaining about how hot it was. Since I had a good breakfast and double checked my pack and called everyone on my team of drivers. This morning I am lying here awake wondering which way to go? Forward or back? Do I call in a rescue if I can get the Garmin to work? I still need to find the trail before I can decide which way to go. I sat up and looked around.

Breeze was lying with all fours in the air, head cocked towards me and smiling, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. I looked around and all I could see was dead trees. I struggled to get to my feet as I swooned as I attempted to stand. My head was pounding with the worse headache I have ever had. I am pretty sure I have a concussion or something. I sip down the rest of the water I boiled the night before but it did nothing to quench my thirst. I dug through my pack and laid out my clothes on a few dead trees anticipating the sun to come over the ridge soon. I pulled out another bag of food, boiled some more water and made breakfast.

Breeze had taken off to do whatever it is he needs to do. I sat down and enjoyed my meal. I sipped down two more pots of boiled water over the next hour and called for Breeze. I hear him bounding through the trees and he arrives with a squirrel in his jaws. He gently places it in front of me and gives it a nudge. I pick it up and checked it out for bugs or whatever lives on squirrels. Seemed pretty clean and was obviously killed by the dog. I dug in my pack again and found my Leatherman, yes the one I was bitching about. I carefully slit the belly of the squirrel open and gutted and skinned it like I saw on Bear Grylls. I stoked the fire and stuck it on a spit I cut from a nearby live tree. It smelled a little like chicken and tasted like a rabbit I had eaten once on a dare. I gave Breeze the head and a back leg along with another couple scoops of his canned food. We both sat back against a tree and felt the life course back into our veins.

I took my trail towel and cut a slice off it to wrap around my head to reduce the headache and close my wound a bit. I checked my watch… 3:45pm. The sun had been overhead for most of the day and I had dried out everything quite nicely. I had to take a few cat naps in between the rotisserie of my belongings. Breeze would take off and come back to check on me every so often. He’d kiss my face and nudge me awake. Probably a good thing with a head injury. I decided I needed to drink a bit more water and be off by 6 pm.

I packed all my belongings into my tattered pack and hoisted it onto my back and decided I needed to head north. Since as far as I could see was dense trees and acres of dead trees standing, fallen to the ground in huge tangles and ones leaning on other dead ones. I choose my direction carefully and wound my way over under and through the forest, so as to avoid as many climbing challenges as possible. The dead leaning trees creaked eerily as the wind blew. It was getting near dark again I still had yet to find the trail.

Tired and hungry, burning with thirst again, head pounding at a dizzying level, I decided to find a camp spot. Breeze was eagerly bouncing about running back and forth from me to an unseen area of the forest. I followed his lead and the trees opened up into a yellow meadow of flowers. There were two 15 foot Aspen trees standing at 15 feet apart. I threw down my pack at the base of one and pulled out my tent and set it up between the two. I love the sound of the aspen leaves in the evening air. I gathered wood and presto I had fire. There was a small trickle of a mountain spring not too far from camp and I boiled as much water as I could before the sun went down then used the last bit in another gourmet freeze dried meal.

Two Miles High: A Rocky Mountain Tail: Chapter Four

Chapter Four: How Dumb Does a Dumb Dog Get?

It was an hour past dark when I finally got through the maze of trees. I found an opening with some soft grass and laid out my sleeping bag and attempted to set up my bivouac. I found my headlamp to be in working order and sought out some dry wood and kindling to get a small fire. My water bottle had been stripped off the pack so all I had to drink out of, carry water in and collect water to boil, was a bit bigger than a good size coffee mug. I thought at least I could get a fire, boil some water and eat a freeze dried meal, I’d be set for tonight at least. I already had a headache and cotton mouth, I felt like my tongue was Velcro and the top of my mouth it’s mate. I was in pretty bad shape… and scared.

In my little safety bag I carry some flint and steel and drier lint soaked in wax. It’s never done me wrong in the past. If I could get a miracle tonight I would sleep much better and stand a chance of making it through the freezing cold night. I smiled at myself as I thought… glad I’m not naked and afraid.

I struck the flint and steel once, twice and the third time a small flame came to life. I held my breath and fed it gingerly. It grew into life and I cried. I sobbed like a little baby. I suddenly heard a crashing coming through the brush and I looked up just in time to see beady red eyes barreling down on me. I braced for impact as I saw it leap into the air. I fell over from the blow and suddenly had a face full of slobber and a very wet 70 lbs of utter joy laying on top of me. “Breeze! You dumb dog… I am so glad to see you.”

I went to my pack and pulled out a small can of dog food I stashed away in case of an emergency. I popped the lid open and dug out a few scoops onto the ground and Breeze scarfed it up in one gulp. “Enjoy your food silly… pickins are getting slim.” I pulled out my little pot and went over to the edge of the swamp and filled it with water. Thirty minutes later I was enjoying a meal made for a king… freezer dried eggs and bacon that was way too salty for my dehydrated state. My mouth filled itself with a spring of saliva as I took a bite.

After my meal I boiled another pot of water, stoked the fire, double checked everything was put away… this is bear country… and Breeze and I covered ourselves up with my slightly drier sleeping bag and passed out.