Head Down, Tail Tucked

I am sitting in Hardin, MT, at my campsite by the road - literally! - And I am reflecting on my summer trip, as it is only a short week from being over. I am reluctant to admit that I am a little disappointed.

I had begun this trip with 2 goals: 1) self discovery and creation, and 2) find the place where I am supposed to practice. I thought that I would find some profound meaning in this quest of 2012, and come back from it a changed person, rejuvinated and ready to take on the veterinary world. I am afraid that none of that has happened. I enjoyed my experiences, I learned and gained good veterinary skills, and I took lessons, also, in what not to do, as usual. I saw some awesome scenery that at many times brought tears to my eyes, just taking in the beauty of it all. But in no place did I feel that glorious feeling of, "Oh my gosh! I BELONG here!"

And this has become more and more distressing to me. "Real life" is hurtling at me at warp speed, and I have no decisions made, nothing in particular in the works for what the HELL I am going to do after graduation. During a very long and serious conversation about life in general with a friend, I came up with this analogy for the anxiety I am feeling about my future:

I'm standing at the doorway of a burning building, looking out. In front of me, on the path to the road, lie burning hot coals. The house is burning down around me, flames licking at the backs of my legs, and I know I need to move soon to get to the safety of the street. The problem? I don't know if the soles on the sneakers I have been given will melt, or carry me safely across the hot coals. So there I stand, building burning...

I know when I find the place that I am supposed to be, I will know it. I just thought I would find it by now... :( Everyone else's summers seem to have been so productive and inspiring, some with job offers, so for me, returning home with no more than some skills I REALLY SHOULD have been able to learn in clinics, I feel dumb. I feel like the choices I made were wrong and now I am caught behind the 8 ball on what to do: internship or mentorship... I really hate this question! More lately, I have found myself longing for familiar ground. The green green grass of home, you know. The kind that grows in Florida, where there is seldom a threat of wildfires, and cattle can be stocked per acre like crazy, and the trees far outnumber the hills. I had to come out here to find this out, that's my story. However, I sense a resounding "I told you so," coming from several different directions.

Tomorrow, I will try to post about some of the positive things this trip has brought forward for me, because I know there ARE some. Its just that, for now, I am on my way home, Head Down, and Tail Tucked.

This land is your land, this land is my land...

At the top of Lone Eagle Over Look on our geology hike this morning

Showing a fresh spot where Elk had nawed at the tree bark last winter! Look how TALL they are!!

The petrified redwood tree stump

The little homestead I got to tour at the Fossil Beds National Monument

Today I woke up early, just to get an early start on a day full of hiking. My first stop was down the road a bit in Mueller SP, Overlook trail. And much to my surprise when I parked and started to pack my gear, but a park volunteer ranger pulled up and asked if I was part of the guided hike. Well, now I was! What lucky timing! It turned out to be a geology hike, but covered topics from trees, terrain, climates, hiking rules, religion, life, wildlife, and history. It was awesome! And I am so grateful for the wonderful group of people I met. They even gave me a burrito before I left, which I ate on my way to the Fossil Beds.

About 30 minutes down the road, I entered my first National Park – Florrissant Fossil Beds National Monument. It is a park rich in geological history (glad I went on that morning hike!! I was so much more informed for this excursion!). The basic was that 34 million years ago, a volcano erupted and encased giant redwood trees (yes, in Colorado!!) in mud lava. Then, as the trees died and thermal waters moved in, chemical reactions petrified the wood, leaving HUGE tree stumps to be discovered by settlers in the 1800s. These things were massive! It made me want to see the real things in California! And once again, I just happened upon the 2 o’clock ranger talk… which I had all to myself! Ranger Laine Weber talked to me all about the volcanoes and even the ancient animals that lived in the diverse ecological system that existed back then. And then she recommended a great burger spot in town, cause boy had I been craving!

Now I am winding down and doing a load of laundry at the camper services building. Tomorrow afternoon I will report to my first externship, and I am excited to get into the working routine again. Colorado just doesn’t seem complete yet without some horses…

Oh! And Marmot tent company overnighted me some replacement poles for my tent! I’ll go pick them up in town before I head two hours north to Conifer, Co.

This Land is your land, this land is my land, I sure wish y’all could have joined!

When I was young in the mountains

When I was young in the mountains, nothing seemed to bother me. I had boundless energy, and I dont ever remember feeling sick. When I was young in the mountains, I used to love to listen to the trail, with its roaring trees, falling leaves, the the gravel that crunched beneath my feet. I loved every thing about it, when I was young in the mountains.

Now I am older, in the mountains, and you would think that I was still young. I was a bit foolish, over-zealous, and let my excitement get away from me. I had such an awesome firts hike, and you all shired in my adventurous spirit, as I climbed to the top of the mountain. It wasnt until I was trying to finish my garlic alfredo camp noodles that evening that I realized something had gone wrong.

I felt nauseous. My head began to pound, and I suddenly felt really, really, tired. Oh man! Altitude sickness. And then I just felt dumb. Last year, I went to Ecuador, and within 3 days was at 12,000 feet, with no symptoms at all. What the heck? I always pride myself on being a great navigator, holding the second rule of (Brittany's) camping to be: Know your trail map!! And I did, I knew exactly how long the trail was, where I was going, had my knife and my bear spray - even sang "Senior Don Gato" at the top of my lungs as I rounded corners of the trail to ward off any bears... But I didn't check the elevation. Actually, I had no idea what level I was at... and thus, pushed it more than I should have.

I felt awful, and so I went to bed early, about 9:45pm. It was getting cold anyway. By 11pm, I was freezing!! My head was about to explode, and I had already put on a third layer of shirts. I headed to the truck. The wind whipped through my thin thermal sleep pants, as I fought with the (*&$%&!!) tonaeu cover of the truck in the dark to get it open enough to reach my alternate pack of clothes. Damn thing would NOT unsnap in the cold. I actually broke one snap right off the frame before I was able to get an arm inside, feeling around and opening the suitcase with 2 fingers, and then blindly pulling a pair of blue jeans out through the 6 inch hole. By this time, I couldnt feel either of my hands or feet, and I was shivering so bad, all I wanted to do was get back in my sleeping bag. However, before I left the truck, I saw something that made me shake my head - at myself. After returning to the truck from my hike that afternoon, I had pulled out a school book, planning to study, and set it on the hood of the truck. I remember feeling a bit dizzy, and then digging around for some dinner to take to the campsite too. And I totally forgot the book - til 11pm. There it sat on the hood of the truck, and I kicked myself once again - I must have really been deoxygenated. Geez, Brittany.

By 2 am, I had on a wool cap, 4 shirts, 2 pants and 2 pairs of socks, inside my sleeping bag, and I was still freezing. I had the mummy portion of my bag cranked down over my head, but nothing seemed to help. However, I felt so awful and so tired to go back out in the wind to fight with the toneau cover again, to pull out the comforter I had brought as blanket-back-up. (Yes, I should have...) So I stuck it out. My phone weather app said it was 48 degrees, but I could have sworn it was 20...

I woke up with the sun at 6am. Still freezing. My phone had been set to wake me at 8am (mountain time, yall. ) but was about to run out of battery, so I pulled myself from my green walmart cacoon, and headed to the truck. I plugged in my phone, and then wrestled for about 20 minutes with the firewood in the back of my truck (mind you, this is lying on my stomach, UNDER the tonneau cover) to free my comforter. I grabbed to packs of "HotHands" out of the extra supply bin and burried myself back in the tent. And finally, fell asleep.

This morning, after making the appropriate phone calls to let everyone back home know that I hadnt been eaten by a bear, I dug out the park map, thinking that if I was going hiking, I probably needed to do so somewhere DOWN the mountain. THIS was when I finally noticed the topagraphy (correct term??) drawn in everywhere along the trails. Mom had said that my online hiking tracker logged my hike to the mountain yesterday at 9,800 feet. Yep. Said so on the map! Wow, no WONDER I felt awful! all this time, I had been at no more than 6,000 feet, and then in a matter of 2 or 3 hours, quickly drove to 9,600 and hiked to 9,800. (Insert dumbass here.)

Now, I scoured the map, which I quickly realized would have been a LOT more helpful if it were in color, (and vowed to purchase colored topography maps from this point out) and decided that the lowest hike in the park descended to 9,300 feet. I looked it up on the park website (I LOVE my iPhone, and ORanger! app!), and saw that it included some old homestead site at the bottom of the valley. Done.

I took that hike today, and felt much better afterwards. I took my time, I stopped and rested several times, and I let several groups of hikers pass me by. The worse thing that could happen to me would be to get sick. Gotta take it slow.

And you know what?! I got to see a deer! Because I was moving so slow! Tons of butterflies, a pile of bear scat (scary!) and got some more really cool photos. Even stopped to pick out a fire-poker and marshmallow sticks! Muuuch better!

This afternoon, I think I might descend a bit more and go into town to a fossil park nearby.

This trip is truly an adventure, and I am getting so many long-lost girl scout badges along the way. Here are some lessons or tips I'd like to leave, even if they are just for my future self, from what I have leaarned, when I was young in the mountains:

• Spend the money on the tent. I had the best tent in the campground, and it survived (mostly) 40 mph winds. My neighbor's tent didnt. They had to buy a new one, they said. 
• Spend the money on the bag - I didn't, and I sure wish I had last night!! What I wouldn't give to have one of those feather-down mummy sleeping bags tonight! Its supposed to be in the 40s again.
• Read your map!! And know your elevations! This helps you to plan your activity level to keep yourself safe!
• Invest in the color, durable maps from the stores. They will serve you better than the ones at the ranger stations, and if you have an enjoyable trip because of it, you will mostly likely use the map again!
• Make sure your layers are easily donned and doffed. It was such a pain on the trail having to take a bunch of gear off, just to remove a jacket, and then put all the gear back on and readjust the straps, because I wasnt as "fluffy" anymore. 
• Pack for every type of weather, and make sure it is all accessible for when you need it. If you bring more than you need, you will never find yourself without enough.
• If communication back home is important to you, go ahead and spend the extra 2 or 3 bucks and get the campsite with electricity... then you wont have to sit in the laundry room like I am right now, typing your blog. :)

Other Thoughts:

• I am currently unsure whether I feel a difference between the Appalachians or the Rockies. There ARE differences, but I havent decided which I like better.
• My favorite sound is STILL gravel under my feet as I walk down a mountain trail. 
• You can tell how well the trails and the park will be labeled and maintained by how much effort the state puts into their state park websites. Kudos, Colorado!
• I thought I would smell pine up here, but so far, all I have gotten wiffs of is skunk... The air literally has no odor!
• At the homestead, I could really identify with the people that had lived there. I had brief visions, and thought that I could enjoy a life like that. I also thought it was heart warming to know that the only reason they left the site was so that the children could attend school more regularly in town. Education has always been something parents wanted for their children.
• I also had a brief vision of a native american. I saw the fur-lined moccasins he wore, and heard the clink of his native jewelry, made of wood and bone. He was very comfortable in his life, and  was grateful for the earth and all it gave him. Me too.

A cellular memory relived

First thing I did before leaving Illinois – family tradition!

The little town of Goreville was adorable. Made me want to stay and meet people.

I really didn’t mind the nothingness of farm land. It made me feel connected to America, to the whole web that is the food chain. One of my favorite things has always been tall grasses. The feeling of the seed head brushing your hands as you walked was something I had missed. The fruitfulness of this land made me feel a great vitality within myself. Strong. Healthy. Solid.

As I rounded a corner on the interstate, I saw the Arch, and instantly switched lanes to the right side of the road, in case there was pull-off to take a picture. It was still a good ways away, and I was headed straight for downtown St. Louis, so unfortunately, I wasn’t able to stop. I had to keep moving with the city traffic. But then, a windfall! A traffic jam due to construction stopped us dead on, right on the bridge, just long enough for me to snap a few pics. Awesome! Thanks, Universe!

On my way to the campsite for the evening, stopped to take in a very scenic view. It had horses, too!

Setting up camp. I was SOO tired!! But the first rule of camping is shelter first! Always! Then, I ran to the visitor center just in time to catch the ladies leaving. I convinced them to open the doors just to get me a trail map. Sorry to say it wasn’t very useful. So far, Florida is still winning for the best trail maps in State Parks!

A brief snack, and I went hiking anyway! This trail was very primitive, some parts you could hardly even see the trail for all its overgrowth. Thank god they DID have trail markers. I had a spooky feeling, as it winded through some pretty deep woods. Between bugs and spider webs, I just kept my tripod swinging out in front of me and kept moving. Later I would find out why I felt odd.

  

This little guy surprised me! I couldn’t figure out what it was!! Is is a groundhog?

Overlooking the same spot the Lewis and Clark saw in the 1800s!

Thought they were blackberries, until I looked skyward! Elderberry!

Just shortly after taking this photo, I had a flash of my first memory of a past life. I had been native American, and had been down in a ravine just as this, washing something in the creek, when I realized I was surrounded, and that my life was in great danger. As I stood up, in my memory, I woke from the meditation, just as something glimmered among the tree branches at the top of the ridge. I remembered this whole scenario in mere seconds as I walked through the last 100 yards of this “primitive” trail, and I started to book it. They say we learn from the past, so there ya go!

This spring was not big at all! A bit of a let down at the end of a spooky (but properly rated as moderate to hard – and thus quite satisfying) hike!

The “Big” spring

Ramen noodles tasted good!