tlcorbinPower Walking Alaskan Wraiths-Part 2
December 1st 2007 22:09
Redux
Well, here I stand to continue my baleful tale of the unimaginable horrors of exercising with woodland wraiths. And sharing with you all, my dark secret, one I had revealed only to Damo earlier: 29F, is a secret Frozen Butt Scale (FBS) that goes from 1F to 50F. At 29F, anatomical things begin hiding, your nose continuously drips copious quantities of noxious fluids, your butt starts crackling while you walk, and your shorts disappear for a week afterwards. It's indeed, as ugly a sight as it sounds.
Did my frozen spirit and assets elicit any nurturing or compassion from the twin protagonistic wood nymphs. No way pal. They blazed ahead of me, leaving me to me shiver in the cold winter air while they plotted in the parking area ahead. I am going to check and see if any new accidental death insurance policies have been taken out on me lately.
Yes, there they were unconcerned, playfully waiting in the parking lot, like this rolling exorcism was somewhat normal, hah, I'll bet it was closer to being paranormal than it ever was to being normal. I belong in a warm place, enjoying a little sumpin sumpin, know what I mean?
Crap, I went way past fat n ugly years ago, why rehash old history when I know that I'm never going back to handsome heaven again. So why worry about a petty little thing like being over weight? It's only 60lbs and what the hey, I look sorta good for an obese Teddy Bear. And may I remind everyone, that in spite of several returns, I've had a genuine request for my nearly nude calender for 2008. Not a bad start I'd say, the fella that took the calender says it's going on the wall at his man's club, what ever that is.
Anyway, I hatched this scheme in my mind about taking the girls to lunch, and over feeding them, so that they'd want to go home and nap. Presenting me with an opportunity to salvage a portion of the glorious afternoon for my own delightfully boring plans to work, paint and blog. Foolish man that I am, I really thought it had a chance to succeed.
We arrived at the notable and unique establishment that served the best halibut fish and chips along with the very worst coffee in town. Driving into the parking lot with the two over active power walking zealots in the car talking away like a pair of magpies, I noticed someone walk out the door of the place from the corner of my eye. I didn't give it much thought, because I see a lot of things that aren't really there, and have since the 60's. It's my psychic senses at work, I' sure.
With the ladies merrily chatting away, I parked the vehicle and we walked along the debris strewn sidewalk, and went into the establishment. The place is the greasiest spoon imaginable or recorded in modern history. But the halibut was freshly caught and battered, deep fried to a tender, crispy, golden brown and served with fries. And served so hot, the waitress swore a lot and wore an insulated apron and gloves. But, we NEVER drink their coffee, well, unless we have dietary or other plumbing issues that need to be relieved. Once inside and realizing that the vehicle was probably unlocked, I returned outside to lock it and retrieve the camera .
On the way back in, I saw the person or short waitress again, hahaha, I shouted boo and it scared out of her shoes.
I can't believe someone made this stool as a practical joke, but there it is. Proof, humor is alive and well north of the Canadian Border. We ate our lunch and I was feeling pretty darn clever and smug as those two wolfed down a near one pound portion of halibut pieces and chips, each. Not to forget the tubs of tartar sauce that they slathering over their fish and chips. So much for fragile appetites. Me, I'm a vinegar sort of person. Try this, after dosing everything with vinegar, see for yourself who wants a bite. Not even the starving kids in China will touch it, because its so pungent and tart. I learned this from my siblings while growing up.
The girls kept chatter to a minimum, which I misgauged as a visible sign of their fatigue, wrong. To my chagrin and dismay, it turns out they were just recharging their little Ever Ready battery driven bodies for another go at it.
Yup, seriously, they re-energized. And if I get my hands on that damn rabbit, he's going to be a glove liner. They girls declared that they wanted to show me a bridge that was just up the trail and it wouldn't take long. Foolishly, I said sure. I was full, and amused by my visit with the short waitress. Later, I would wish that I'd taken the little charmer with me.
We boldly strode onto the new trail, and quickly disappeared under the forests canopy, where it had turned the air into an arctic freezer blast. The breath from my mouth was condensating and freezing to my ears and the top of my uninsulated dome.
I was beginning to feel a mite cranky, the situation was looking very bad for this heat loving glacier lizard. Fortunately, after I whined long and loud enough, that girl Aung the Fleet Footed, told me to stop whining and placed her parka hood upon my head. Instant, satisfying relief in the form of additional warmth swept over me, and for a few minutes, the girls followed my trail as I boldly pressed forward in that place where no man wanted to trod. The girls had to stop because they were laughing hysterically after borrowing the camera, taking a snap shot and reviewing the picture of me they'd just taken. Which is probably why someone was secretly hoping they'd wet themselves and quit picking on him.
However, after they finished their review of the picture they took of me, and recovered fully from the mirth of the moment, they went by fast enough to leave a vapor trail, and once again, the forest's silence surrounded me. They'd warped into power walking mode. And even though I threatened to go on strike and park my ample butt on a log and wait for them to return, they kept it up through out the added 4 and 1/2 mile round trip walk to that freaking bridge.
All I wanted to do that day was to get Tisha through the trauma of the dental visit and to go home, put her to bed, and then to do guy stuff, you know; blog, eat, scratch myself, quaff hot coffee and chocolate. Resigned to my frozen fate, I steeled myself to the battle of finishing this walk.
When, amazingly, there it was, The Bridge. It was in front of us and Aung was standing upon its hallowed surfaces, the holy grail of the trek. Tisha missed out on the ensuing traditional victory clog dance because she was back trail propping me up. The only thing more surprising to me than the bridge, whose very existence I was beginning to doubt, and to question, was the incredible view up creek.
A frozen view of the world Up Stream. It was breath taking. I had to admit, that in spite of my frozen protuberances, it had been a pleasant hike in the cold. The view more than made up for effort involved getting there. The girls were just besides themselves with joy that I didn't suffer an immediate heart attack and hadn't taken any unflattering photos of their butts. They heaped their warm encouraging praises upon my very tired personage. That was enough to carry me through the rest of the journey, walk or hike.
But, the sage advice I presented to Tisha, when we initially returned to Alaska, I had ignored and I was uncomfortable physically for not paying heed. Never trust the weather in Alaska, always carry a small pack with stocking hat, gloves, socks, shoes, snacks, bottled water, paper towels and plastic bags. Just in case you find yourself in the very situation I found myself in. The cold and freezing your butt off situation, far, far from the car.
The only other breath taking vision was that of Tisha, standing on that darn bridge on the return trip. When we finally drug our tired selves into that vehicle, and had warmed up a little. I couldn't help but think that these girls were not only tough but, damn tough. They do this thing year round, are they nuts or have I gotten to soft?
Nawww, what kind of crazy thinking is that anyway? But the next time I agree to accompany Tisha or that girl anywhere, I am taking the backpack and camera, and I'll be ready. Those little whirling dervishes had me walk for over 7 miles on a freezing cold, snot running down your face sort of day. And that iswhy I Love Tisha and our adopted personal trainer, who wants to do this again in the morning. Hah, I don't think so, it's going to take a few days for me to dig my shorts out of the last crevice they got lost in, and to untangle them from those stinking natural fibers residing therein.
Keep your head, hands, feet and heart warm in the cold and everything else will be fine; provided bears, big foot and marauding squirrels, and drunken hunters are burrowed up for the winter.
Raven
Did my frozen spirit and assets elicit any nurturing or compassion from the twin protagonistic wood nymphs. No way pal. They blazed ahead of me, leaving me to me shiver in the cold winter air while they plotted in the parking area ahead. I am going to check and see if any new accidental death insurance policies have been taken out on me lately.
Yes, there they were unconcerned, playfully waiting in the parking lot, like this rolling exorcism was somewhat normal, hah, I'll bet it was closer to being paranormal than it ever was to being normal. I belong in a warm place, enjoying a little sumpin sumpin, know what I mean?
Anyway, I hatched this scheme in my mind about taking the girls to lunch, and over feeding them, so that they'd want to go home and nap. Presenting me with an opportunity to salvage a portion of the glorious afternoon for my own delightfully boring plans to work, paint and blog. Foolish man that I am, I really thought it had a chance to succeed.
With the ladies merrily chatting away, I parked the vehicle and we walked along the debris strewn sidewalk, and went into the establishment. The place is the greasiest spoon imaginable or recorded in modern history. But the halibut was freshly caught and battered, deep fried to a tender, crispy, golden brown and served with fries. And served so hot, the waitress swore a lot and wore an insulated apron and gloves. But, we NEVER drink their coffee, well, unless we have dietary or other plumbing issues that need to be relieved. Once inside and realizing that the vehicle was probably unlocked, I returned outside to lock it and retrieve the camera .
On the way back in, I saw the person or short waitress again, hahaha, I shouted boo and it scared out of her shoes.
The girls kept chatter to a minimum, which I misgauged as a visible sign of their fatigue, wrong. To my chagrin and dismay, it turns out they were just recharging their little Ever Ready battery driven bodies for another go at it.
We boldly strode onto the new trail, and quickly disappeared under the forests canopy, where it had turned the air into an arctic freezer blast. The breath from my mouth was condensating and freezing to my ears and the top of my uninsulated dome.
But, the sage advice I presented to Tisha, when we initially returned to Alaska, I had ignored and I was uncomfortable physically for not paying heed. Never trust the weather in Alaska, always carry a small pack with stocking hat, gloves, socks, shoes, snacks, bottled water, paper towels and plastic bags. Just in case you find yourself in the very situation I found myself in. The cold and freezing your butt off situation, far, far from the car.
Nawww, what kind of crazy thinking is that anyway? But the next time I agree to accompany Tisha or that girl anywhere, I am taking the backpack and camera, and I'll be ready. Those little whirling dervishes had me walk for over 7 miles on a freezing cold, snot running down your face sort of day. And that iswhy I Love Tisha and our adopted personal trainer, who wants to do this again in the morning. Hah, I don't think so, it's going to take a few days for me to dig my shorts out of the last crevice they got lost in, and to untangle them from those stinking natural fibers residing therein.
Keep your head, hands, feet and heart warm in the cold and everything else will be fine; provided bears, big foot and marauding squirrels, and drunken hunters are burrowed up for the winter.
Raven
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