I remember being so excited that Amanda was in the U.S., even more, excited she was presenting her work at a conference in Las Vegas, Nevada. When she asked if I wanted to join her driving from LA to the Grand Canyon and Zion, it was a "hell yes". We had 8 hours in the car to catch up on a year's worth of life. It was the first time she was able to open up to me and tell me about her experiences. I told her in detail what had happened to me before I came to Australia and how being back in the U.S. made me feel like I was falling back into the old expectations that people had of me. Even though I had been gone for two years, California had not changed much. Many people I knew still saw me as the same person I was when I left. I was questioning all the changes I had undergone. Had I even changed?
The more we talked, the more I felt uncertain of myself. Was I taking the right steps towards my future goals?
Who did fucking know? The point was I was taking steps. At the end of the day, all the matters is that you keep taking steps.
We got to the canyon late at night. The kind of later that the gates are open but no rangers are around so we cruised around to find a camping spot that might have been open. Only there were none. Most of them were probably people who were doing the same thing as us. They just go there way earlier. We pulled off of High way 94, deep in the bushes. I don't think the rental agency would have been too stoked about this little off-road adventure. We set up hammocks in complete darkness. I ended up sleeping in the car because I was so cold (nothing new).
We rose with the sun and prepped for the skeleton point hike. Apparently, you have to start this hike before 9 am or you'll run out of sunlight (slow people will). As we came down the initial cutbacks, we were stopped by two rangers. Once who was tubby and out of breath for no apparent reason other than he was tubby. They insisted on checking our bags to make sure we had enough water and told we did not have enough time for this hike because we started too late. I refrained from telling him to kiss my skinny white ass. I am pretty sure it took less than an hour to get to the Cedar Ridge (1.5-mile marker). The Ranger there was much more jolly. He had faith in us, regardless of our late start.
The truth is we never actually made it to skeleton point. There are Mules on the trail and you are supposed to step off to the mountain side of the trail and let them pass. I am so impatient that I just kept walking off the trail waiting for this long ass line of asses to pass. We ended up at this really epic lookout point. Clearly, others had been there because they had built cairns taller than a person. We decided it would be better to sit and watch all the other hikers struggle, while peacefully ate our lunch. Part way through eating we were joined by two guys that were leading a group of French students. They had left the students at Cedar Ridge and made their way to skeleton point. They decided to go off trail when they saw us up on the ridge.
Apparently, the view at skeleton point was not even half as good as the view of where we were at and the point was overcrowded by a group of Asian tourist, who were not dressed appropriately and begging for water. To this day it amazes me how much we were hassled for starting a bit late but someone let an entire group of tourists slip by with no water for a 6-mile hike. Of course, we did not go the last half a mile. What was the point? No view. Too many people.
So we took this epic photo instead and called it a day. except the day was far from over because we still needed to get out of the canyon and drive to Zion. It was around half eleven almost noon when we started making our way back up. There was zero shade. It was August. Summer in the desert is brutal. Even with all the sunscreen on I could feel my skin frying. I am not sure why but I started having an asthma attack. It was the first one I had had in almost 5 years.
"Focus on your feet and your legs. All the parts of you that are working. If you focus on the pain you won't be able to calm down or make it back to the top." Amanda kept reciting various versions of this. "You still have air in your lungs. In your heart and your blood. Your feet will carry you back. Just keep swimming."
It took us ages to get back to the top. The cutbacks were even worse going up but I wasn't having an asthma attack anymore. I don't remember how it started or when it stopped. Just that it happened and I moved through it. At the top, the Jolly Ranger from Cedar ridge was hanging out watching all the hikers struggle up.
"Congratulations girls! You are part of the 1% that actually come to hike the canyon, not just peek over the rim." (I am pretty sure more than 1% hike the trails but it was still really nice to hear). He took our picture, just as it started to rain. I have never been so excited for rain in August as I was that day.
I think my point is that no one knows the future. No one can tell you what is right or wrong for your. As long as you are taking steps in the direction that feels right to you, you are on your way to where you need to be. Sometimes the universe might throw something really messed up your way and that causes you to change course. It is okay to change course. It is okay to lay down and rest. Sometimes having a nap is a step in the right direction. Keep stepping. Think of the things that don't hurt, that are working, and keep going.