Then, there are the things that you've done, that you look back on, either at a completely different point in time, when you're recounting the story that it involved, and your friends tell you, "Are you fucking kidding me?! How the fuck did you survive?", and you think back to it, and even admit, "Yeah, I don't know. That was pretty stupid." Let's not lie either, we all know that most of the occurrences come with a flowing river of alcohol, and friends with whom you've bonded to a level that you all trust each other with your lives and hope that the other person is acting within your best interest. But since when was that the actual case?
I won't lie, my list is short. I've done most of the stupid shit that I said I would. I've tried like hell for some of the others. Getting bit by a shark, that's on my list. Not exactly something that you can really plan for, and set out for. Especially when you start thinking logically about it. A shark is a brutal killing machine. He's probably not just going to bite, leave the mark, and not any permanent damage beyond the superficial wound. Where do I want this bite, I'm not sure. I love both of my arms and legs, and would like to still be able to use them for some time to come. I can't show the scar and the story if I get bit in the ass. My torso kind of holds a lot of vital organs, and there's not a whole lot to protect them from falling out, should said shark be so inclined to try the flavor that is Jeremy Bilding blood. Now, which is worse, that this is my dilemma, and not the fact that I'm thinking about being attacked by a shark?
Struck by lighting. I want to do that. I think it could be quite enlightening. Probably put a good spark in my life, you know? Just a little extra something something.
Travel the world, bicycle the Great Wall of China, hike the ruins in Greece, Italy, South America, Central America. I want to go into, and climb the outside of the Great Pyramids, all of them, all over the world. Yes, half of these feats may kill me, or imprison me, or I need special permission and guidance. I want to be the 1st person to walk on Mars. That one is going to be hard though. I want to swim with penguins in the Antarctic, and I want to belly sled with Polar Bears in the Arctic. Though, I hate the cold.
But, these are all the things that I want to do. There's the things that I have done: Swam and wrestled sharks, hiked 14,000ft mountains, camped in most of the environments seen around the world. I've jumped out of perfectly good (arguable for one of them) airplanes. I've rode my bicycles more miles than I've put on cars. Though, that number is rapidly approaching one another. Don't know how I feel about that.
I've been hit by cars, but never been in a car accident in a car. I've fully come to appreciate a mantra of mine personally: "Bring your motion to the ocean, but not the ocean to the motion. No Water In Sex". This mean, no waterbeds, hot-tubs, pools, lakes, rivers, the ocean (you lose all sensitivity in the water), and especially the beach. Save yourself the trouble, grab an 80 grit piece of sandpaper, and have at your cock. Standing, sitting, on a blanket, on a parachute, whatever, it doesn't stop the sand from finding it's way to your happiness, and thus creating no fun.
I can't even think of all the things that I've ever done, that I'm still surprised I survived. This may be because either I just figured I'd survived, so why worry about it, or that they really weren't so impressive to me to recount later on. Ask me specifics, and I'm sure that I'll be triggered into remembering a certain event though.
I think, though, of the most recent of stupid things I could have survived from, was a hike that I did with a buddy of mine, when we were both living in Colorado. This is how that adventure went:
"Dude! You want to go for a hike tomorrow? Then we can grab some lunch. The Program Director really kind of wants to talk with you too, maybe we can get him to lunch, see about actually getting you in at the station." Kris had excited blurted out while we were off air.
"That'd be awesome, all around. Where you thinking about hiking?"
"Devils Head Tower. Down in Rampart. You'll go? You're the only one I know that would actually go hiking with me."
So, it was set. We would meet at the radio station in the morning, and head down to the trail head, about an 30min away, get in the hike in the morning, then head to lunch, where afterwords, Kris could get ready for his show, he was the 7-Midnight DJ, and I could get ready for my shift at Red Robin that evening.
For those of you not familiar with Rampart and the surrounding area, you want to go south of the Denver metropolitan area, take a right, drive past Bum Fucking Egypt until you reach the nothingness that is the creepy woods where people disappear, then go about 5 miles further. This comes with bonuses and downfalls. Bonus: pure, natural beauty, untainted by any modern convenience or civilization. Downfall: No means of communication, short of 911 calls from any cell phone and smoke signals (i.e. massive forest fire draws a lot of attention real quick too).
We arrived at the trail head around 8am, figuring that we could easily get the 4 1/2 mile hike in easily before noon, or pretty close to it at least. We had researched the night before that the 10 mile road leading from the "main" highway to the trail head was closed form roughly 1st snow, or November of every year, though the following beginning of April, or until the snow had melted off the road. the Trail was officially open though the beginning of April. We had figured with it being April 10th, we were in good standing. The only problem was, there was a large metallic barricade at the point just off the highway, leaving us to hike 10 miles to the trailhead.
I had started to put it all together, the barricade, a triangular swinging gate apparatus, that was roughly about as thick as a telephone pole, was totally going to win in blocking us from driving to the trail head. I had also surveyed the options for us driving around the gate, and wouldn't you know it, the Colorado State Parks and Recreation Services had done their job, and figured out just how to prohibit any other such idiot from doing to the same.
Now, I may work out a bit, and I have done my fair share of out door activities, and I knew that I was up for and able to do the hike that was now before us. I had started discussing the situation with Kris there, and he had said that he had pretty much taken that into account as well. Unfortunately for both of us, we're not exactly what you may call "Morning People", and as a result, were obviously not making the wisest decisions we possibly could have. Mind you, it was 8am, we didn't have any definite plans until both us had to be at work that evening; Kris at 6:30 at the latest, me at 6p for our shift. So, a bit of a longer hike was really not that big of a deal to us a the present moment.
The sky was clear, the weather was warm, the birds were starting to come out, and I was there, cruising the lonesome road and trail with a good friend of mine. You really couldn't have asked for a better morning. We were even down to just t-shirts. We were going along, and surveying the beauty. The red dirt road we were following. The evergreen forest that was around us. Hell, it wasn't until about mile number 4 that we discovered there were road markers telling us just how far we had gone.
This was a little alcove we stopped for pics at around said mile number 4:
We had been talking, and really getting to know each others past. My training in wilderness survival and my experience with that which so many call the "Great Outdoors". I also came to find out a bit about Kris, and how he had gotten to where he was. We laughed at the coincidence and the fate that brought us together at the station, as well as the small world instances that may have brought us together regardless of our somewhat professional relationship. Hell, even I had mentioned that I would love to get struck by lightening and bit by a shark. I'll admit, I didn't calm his nerves any, when we actually saw the remnants of a lightning strike along the path.
Right about mile number 5 my blood was flowing, the sun had charged me, and the hour's worth of hiking we had done, I had deemed us to be at "The Point of No Return". Yes, mile number 5 was 1/2 way to the trail head, and was therefore the point that we would cross into committing to finishing the entire hike. We could have turned around at any point before mile number 5, before we locked ourselves into a (almost) marathon. Of course, it was at this point that Kris had also informed me that he was Hypoglycemic.
Now, I had dealt with a great deal of kids throughout the years, in various situations, that had a variety of medical issues that needed constant addressing. Hypoglycemic people are not uncommon, and are easy to keep up with. I had assumed that Kris knew what he was getting into, fully, and was well prepared in making sure he would have everything that he needed for the trek we were making. After all, Kris is a college educated, professional man, and not a high school teenager, and my teenagers knew what they needed for such activities.
You know that timing, when it seems like you're not in real life. You find the plot twist, and you really can't miss it because literally the whole setting is changing around you slowly. Well, that was kind of happening. But, being the headstrong, idiot that I am quite known for, I had to complete. "The Point of No Return" was well behind us, like 1/3 mile. I asked Kris if he was going to be good and he had assured me he was good to go. Not to mention, we could see Devils Head. Yes, that is it on the horizon; you know, the several hills off in the distance.
As you can see, we were starting to get visitors as well. Our clear skies were becoming not so much, but they weren't turning for the worse. It was just enough to push us to move up a little quicker. I did do a survey of our supplies. I had an extra jacket for rain just in case, 2 liter bottles of Fiji myself, and 2 Cliff Bars for sustenance just in case I would have needed it for my 4 1/2-5 mile trek. Yes, I had prepped a little much for a 5 mile trek, and I knew that I could withstand the 20 additional miles to make it work, and spread my stuff as minimal as need be. I assumed that we'd be fine. I knew that I would be, and my buddy had given me the impression that he was good to go as well.
We continued out discussions, and joked along the way. I couldn't even really tell you what all we had talked about, but I know that there were the more common of things that you discuss when you are stripped of your element and setting, and you find common ground. The floodgates open, and you spill so much information, especially when your in the seclusion of the woods, and don't have to worry about anyone eavesdropping.
I had left my phone back in my car, knowing that with no service, all I was asking for by bringing it was for me to somehow break it and lose it. Technology and I don't get along. There's a reason that I love the outdoors, you fuck up a tree, you've probably messed yourself up even more. I stopped wearing watches back in 2003, and while I was pretty good at telling time by the sun, we used Kris' watch to keep us posted. We did finally reach the trailhead around 1030am. Probably not where we wanted to be at that point in time.
As we started up the trail, we came to find out why the gate was probably still closed, there was quite a bit of snow. For 10 miles there had been nothing. Now, after we made our first bend in the trail, we were in varying depths of the cold white shit. Though, when you put two people together, that had already been traveling well out of any sort of good decision or logical reason, we were still bound and determined to finish our trek, and reach the summit that we had set out for that morning.
As with any other task that I take on, I had promoted to Kris that we keep the mentality positive, and that we just turn some of the ordeal into really just an Adventure. This was definitely becoming a tedious adventure. We totally lost the trail in the snow banks, we could barely see where we were supposed to heading with the forest and everything in front of us. There was no sign that we were supposed to be where we were, and even if we were near what we thought was the mountain we were supposed to be climbing.
Occasionally we would come upon a clearing, and could somewhat triangulate our location, and by that I mean that we could clearly see then that we were just fucked. We joked, we pushed each other along, we laughed at our own stubbornness to complete and hopefully not die. Though, that was becoming more of an option we thought amy hit us, seeing as how there were no tracks where we were, leaving us to assume that we were the 1st ones up the "trail" that year. This of course, was assuming we were still on the trail, or in the vicinity of where we needed to be.
We most certainly couldn't say that it wasn't pretty. Though, one of the prettiest things to appear within our sightline, was the oncoming storm. You can kind of see it forming and approaching there. Not that either of us were surprised. Colorado has that awesome weather (that I'm discovering the whole country contends with), that you can have a 70 degree morning, and have a blizzard that afternoon. I was hoping that this wouldn't be a blizzard. I just knew that no matter what, weather wasn't going to help out cause at all.
We kept our search for the elusive Devils Head Tower, figuring that with it being a fire watch tower, it would most certainly be at one of the highest points. So, as long as we kept going up, we were bound to hit it sooner or later. We were watching time slip away also. Oh, and water. Awesome.
You know those scenes in your head, where you and your buddies are in the middle of no where, and there isn't a soul to hear you, ok there's deer and birds and raccoons and mountain lions to hear you, but they're not going to help you either. That's about where we were. There was nothing. Then, there was barbed wire fencing. The other kind of scene that plays to the solace. So, now there's no one to hear us scream, and help us, as we come up on Hannibal Lecter's portrayal of the love-child between the IT clown and the Unabomber. Again, there was no saving us now. You could preserve our bodies and dispose of the blood easily with the snow, we had already covered our tracks by back tracking so much, and randomly getting lost, and now we were trespassing on Whoville. Cue the violins.
Figuring that we had nothing else to lose at that point either, we went ahead and crossed the fencing, and continued our trek up the hill. Of course at that point a small hut/cabin would come into view. Fortunately, there was no smoke or sign of life coming from it either. As we rounded the "house" we did come to realize that it was a visitor's center of sorts, and was actually the base for the Devils Head Fire Lookout Tower. From there we could also see the staircase leading up to the tower itself, and the outlook.
I'm not going to lie. I will have to admit that I came to laugh a bit, and also become terribly scared for all of my decisions that morning, when Kris had admitted to me halfway up the stair case (to the heavens) that he had vertigo and was now terrified of the staircase and was turning around. Kris had asked me to come on this Adventure to hike up a mountain, knowing that he may have to add 20 miles to the trek, to climb a staircase that he was terrified of, to come within 100 feet of the actual tower and overlook itself, only to watch and look at it from below, and my pics. I laugh, not out of being mean, or thinking less of him, but for the humor in the situation. He'd pushed himself that much so far, and had to have known what he was really getting into, I say do it. But, he reached his limit, and I respected that, and took the pics for him.
Both of those pics were taken from the top at the tower. Both were over looking the range to our west. Both were taken within 5 min of one another. We were now about to have to deal with a lot of weather from the looks of it. Our beautiful morning hike, was definitely turning into something out of Darwinism.
With the skies turning and the time running, we decided that we really needed to make a break for the car. We were literally at the half way point, and had about 12-12 1/2 miles to get back to the car, and it was now nearing 1p.
About half way down the actual trail we stopped because Kris was in need of some food. Fortunately, as I said before, I had the extra Cliff Bars. He had already eaten his food on the way out, and I hadn't touched any of mine. I gave him mine, and we took a good water break. Though, I could see that there may be problems arising and we had some ground to cover.
We did make it down the trail in good time, getting to the road again by 330. This meant no more snow to deal with, and that we were still 10 miles from the car. 3 hours to get Kris to the studio, and 2 1/2 for me to get home, shower, shave and get to the Dirty Bird. I for some reason kept hope that we could do it. Somehow, maybe it's the light at the end of the tunnel thing, but somehow you always seem to do the return trip in amazing time. I was hoping this was the case. Kris was not as optimistic, and had tried to send a text to one of his co-workers that he may need some one to cover for a short while as we made the trip back. No cell service did not really allow for this message to be sent right away. In fact, it took 30 min for us to find out that it did send, and then his battery died.
If there was ever such a thing as Shit Creek, I was starting to hope that we were only up that, and not fueling it's rapids.
While we were recouping at the bottom of the trail, Kris was also starting to deteriorate in energy and seemingly consciousness. I still had one Cliff Bar left, and we had plenty of water. He was already wearing my extra jacket, or really shell, so we were kind of protected from the weather. I felt confident that we'd make it. But I will be honest, I started to figure out a couple alternative plans. 1- Literally carry him, fireman style to the car. 2- leave him and run to the car, somehow break something down to get the car around all the obstacles and get back to him. 3- Run back to the car and call 911, get flight for life (this was really the LAST option possible) and 4- build a lean-to shelter, start a fire, have him gnaw on stuff we could find to keep him going until someone were to come by. Option 4 was really just about as probable for his survival as me finally getting my Superman powers and flying us both to work on time. But, I was truly preparing myself to have to perform either option 1 or 2 should we (he) not make it.
We were doing fine. I gave him my Cliff Bar at about mile marker 8. He was stumbling along, complaining of his knees hurting, staring off into the distance in front of us, openly wishing that the car was closer. Several times he had me give him a pep talk, and keep him going. Fortunately, we both remembered that around mile marker 5 there was an 1/2 full, yet unopened Pepsi sitting at a Picture Opportunity spot. We both kind of figured that the risk of drinking the somehow 1/2 empty, yet magically unopened can would be safe and good for the zombie that he was becoming.
We stopped several times, trying to get him into shape to tackle the next leg of the trip back to the car. We had been watching the time rapidly slip away as well. By 5pm we were just rounding the 4 mile mark. It was also here that Kris needed to lay down. Over the course of the next 30 min our conversation went as so:
Kris: "The sand is soft here. I'm taking a break here" Then he fell into the sand like a sack of potatoes.
Me: "You shouldn't stop. We should keep go... you're already on the ground."
Almost immediately Kris also fell asleep, so seeing that he was actually fine, I let him get in a small nap. Of course I was worried, and I was looking for things to either make a splint to drag him to the car in, or summon the strength to dead-man lift him and sling him over my shoulder to carry back to the car. But then, he awoke after 15 min and our conversation continued:
Kris: "Yeah. Ok. I'm going to need a motivational speech to finish this hike. Let's go, Captain."
Me: "Motivational speech? The fuck. Ok. Well, let's look at it this way, you've already done over three-quarters of the whole hike. We're only a few miles from the car. It may suck right now, but that sense of accomplishment is going to be the best you've felt in years when you actually sit down in the car, and think, 'I made it. I did it. That was awesome.'"
Kris: "Hmmm. Ok. I'll tell you what, you can just leave me here."
Me: "Kris, I'm not going to leave you here."
Kris: "Just leave me here. I'm ok with that. I can even see the headlines now: "DJ Dies Peacefully After Hiking To Death."
Me: "'Dies Peacefully After Hiking To Death', you crack me up. Speaking of peacefully, I can smell the snow coming, and the dark is falling on us. I don't think that you're going to pass 'peacefully' anytime soon. On top of that, I think that these are mountain lion tracks right here."
And just like that, Kris was on his feet. "Mountain Lion tracks? You sure? Let's roll."
Amazing what a little motivation will do. Though, I didn't mean to motivate like that. I was serious about the mountain lion.
I shit you not, I was herding a zombie. You just pointed him in the right direction, and he just went. I don't think he was really even in control of his own body. It wasn't really walking, but it wasn't that Zombie "my left foot is broken" stumble/walk. But, it was kind of like those old rubber band toys. He would inadvertently kick his feet out, and the whole leg would just snap into place where it was supposed to. Because he was weak, his knees weren't really locking, so as his balance and weight would shift, we was still going forward. Glazed over face and look. I was singing the "My Buddy and Me" song, but had slipped and said "My Zombie and Me" a few times. He did not like the humor in that.
It was kind of amazing though, Kris didn't stop from that point in the sand, until we were about 600 yards form the car. Though, one of the more comical things to us both, was that I was still in survival mode, and trying to make sure he didn't die on me. It was this that caused me to search for anything that he could refuel with. I would take a couple paces ahead of him, and scour the ground. I did find berries, and yes they were the safe to eat kind. I picked them for him, and he would eat them out of my hand, the way a squirrel or raccoon would pull something out of your hand and eat it as well. This definitely helped us quite a bit.
Then, tragedy struck. It was dark, It was cold. It had been trying to snow for hours on us. I knew we had to be close, but I wasn't sure just how close we were. Kris needed to sit. He could barely speak. He was obviously sore as hell. So, he just stopped. This was pretty much the point that I knew I was going to have to choose one of my backup plans. He was sitting, so slinging him over my shoulder shouldn't have been that hard. But, for shits and giggles, I hit the door lock button on my key FOB.
Well. I'll. Be. A. Monkey's. Uncle.
The car was in view. Right there in front of us. You could see the lights through a handful of trees. You could hear the "beep" as it let you know the doors were locked. I showed him. Told him there was gum in the car (sugar free, but I was pulling for placebo effect at that point) and that the gum would help. Kris lunged.
We made it. We survived. 830pm. A full 12 hours and 30 min later, we were saved, by our own will and determination, we tried to kill ourselves, and we failed there. But, we succeeded in pulling one of the stupidest ideas we could have. I picked up my phone, no service, but some texts had gotten through. About 13.
Figuring that Kris was supposed to be on air a hour and a half earlier, stopping at Wendy's to get the boy some "real" food wasn't really a problem for either of us. I was supposed to be at work 2 and half hours prior, and seeing that I had only eaten a banana prior to picking up Kris for our hike, I could have eaten my car. Ironically I'd have eaten my car before eating Wendy's, but maybe that was because I worked at Red Robin at the time, and had to show up there before I did anything too.
I had 10 calls and voice-mails from the restaurant wondering where I was, another 4 from my boss on her personal phone even more so genuinely concerned, the few from my family wondering what I was up to, but without any concern, knowing that I do stupid things consistently, and have been known to disappear randomly.
Maybe it was that the situation that I had just survived, easily, had almost taken out my buddy. I think that was what put me into shock a little. While I kept him alive, I didn't help in putting him in the line of fire to begin with. Though he asked me to come.
I dropped him off at the station, he did one cut, and was at least sounding back to normal. Though, I did come to find out that the mid-day DJ had taken him home, soaked him in her tub, rubbed him down, and cared for him like of like Annie Wilkes a la Misery, minus the sledge hammer of course, and he was back the next day for work. But, he admitted that he was a little scared to me once.
I went into the restaurant, finally getting there about half an hour before close. I still had the muddy gear that I'd been hiking in. The kids that were still there, knowing that I had "no called/no showed" (a first ever for me) somewhat gave me the cold shoulder, though they were really intrigued by my appearance. Fortunately, I really did look like I just rolled in out of the mountains like I was lost for a while. My boss was pissed, scolding me for having leaving them hanging. I had already apologized to the staff, and had told her that was the only reason that I was there, to do so in person. Of course I was also starting to get my appetite back, and a fucking Royal Burger, you know, the 1/3lb burger, with the fried egg, bacon, cheese, lettuce, tomato and onion. Yeah, that one, I could have eaten about 3 at that point. And the fries, totally could have gone for a few baskets of fries with a small bucket of ranch. But, I told her that I just wanted to apologize in person, and that my morning hike, the one that was supposed to only be a little 4 miler, got a little out of hand, and that I was still in shock a bit from it. I also had stated that if I needed to be "written up" that I understood, and it would only be the right thing. (my stupidity did cause the hike to continue some 12 hours before...)
I swallowed my pride, and a little residual mud, and left the restaurant, burgerless, and still starving. So, I went to Chili's.
I still think back to the hike, and all that it was. You know what I kind of came to deduce? Whenever I make any future decisions, I'm just going to say no to anything that has "devil" in the title.
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