Dehydration, parched lips, dizzy after 20 steps up the trail. After 8 hours of stomping my way up muddy trails, slipping and sliding, I found myself on a a little path leading upwards through some sort of Sherwood Forest looking place. I was completely drained, no energy, and thinking only of how I could get some water in my belly.
The irony was that it was drizzling little bits all around me. I could feel water in the air, on my skin, on my face. I could see it in the air, in small puddles everywhere I looked. The 100 foot tall fir trees were occasionally letting giant drops plummet down on me randomly. Oh, what was that? A drop on my shoulder? I craned my neck to the Rain Gods of the sky and opened my mouth like a little bird. Nothing.
Luckily, I have watched movies, so I knew what do in this kind of situation. I grabbed the nearest branch, wrapped my dirty fingers around a giant chunk of leaves and sucked them dry. Maybe a teaspoonful at the very most. It was really only enough to wet my lips and coat my tongue. I staggered on, dreaming of flowing rivers of clean crystalline
water that i could dive into, wrap myself in, indulge. Wild fantasies of underwater ecstasy. Splashing and playing and drinking. Fresh, cool, delicious.But no. No water for Jason.
I just kept tromping mindlessly along, with no purpose. Every time I thought I would see the top of the mountain, it would just be followed by another set of peaks. No real end in sight. Only facades.
I kept thinking of the old Indian maxim: "If you get thirsty, find a small smooth stone and put in in your mouth." It makes you salivate and won't feel so thirsty. Mind control. But then every time I would look for a rock, I would see a giant pile of horse shit. Buzz kill. Zen me ban ah?
So I kept marching, slowly but surely. Then our long lost guides finally appeared out of a thicket, traipsing straight up the mountain, no path even. Fuckers!
"Do you have any water?"
The guide named Jason handed me a bottle. I opened it and sniffed. Oh, for fuck sake. Vile, nasty ass fucking corn whiskey. I don't want any fucking whiskey, you fuck. I need fucking water. Goddammit. God Dammit. Mei you, mei you.
Fuck, I ain't no mountain man. I can out swim you, and maybe even under normal circumstances, out drink you. But not today, not here. I just need to get to the top of this mountain for some kind of sanity. The realization hit me--no water. No motherfucking water. My swaggering mountain guides let me down.
"How far is the pass? "
"20 minutes, " he said. Fuck. in local time that means about another hour.
Actually, it was only about another half an hour. But I swear to God, it felt like another two hours before we arrived. We marched. Aimlessly. All I know is that I was just moving up towards the sky as best I could. Just one step, then another. Just stepping as many times as I could until I got dizzy. Then I would stop. Fuck being a soldier, but that was all I could do. I was marching
uphill. No country, no cause, no patriotism. Just get up that fucking godforsaken hill. Supposedly there was water on the other side.Forty minutes later, we we reached the pass. The top, the fucking top. What an immeasurable feeling of accomplishment. We just sat there and waited for the other three people. Jason again handed me the bottle of whiskey. Oh, what the fuck. I drank a swig. It was nasty. I thought I was going to puke. Then after about 4 seconds I felt better. A temporary solution. My body wanted to reject a few times, but it put my mind a bit at ease. It gave me a bit of relaxation.
After a few pictures of our first major feat, Evan and I decided to continue on. Mostly in search of water. Jason told us that down the path about 5 minutes we could find water. Music to my ears. However, 20 minutes down the path, we needed to look out for leaches. Fuck man. Little bloodsuckers that sneak in through the shoelace holes. Nevertheless, I'd give up anything, including some of my blood for some water.
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