It’s important to do things in life that scare you. I don’t like to get too comfortable in the day to day. I want to mix it up and feel challenged. When you get scared, you get adrenaline and that’s something that makes life more exciting to live.
As summer came to a close I went on two little mini vacays which was nice since I didn’t get to much else this summer, what with having a newborn and all. Both of these trips allowed me the opportunity to push out of my comfort zone and get my heart racing. I’ll present them to you in two separate stories below:
**Note: I most likely did not probably make up or exaggerate most and or all of the following details in the two stories below. More or less…ya feel me?**
Story Number 1:
That one time I nearly got eaten and mauled to death by a carnivorous mountain bear of doom
For Labor Day weekend we decided to pack up and head into the mountains with some friends for a few fun days of cabin camping. Our group consisted of two burly mountain-ish men, two girly toddling toddlers, two mamas-one of whom was great with child, and a babbling, bubbling 2 month old tot. Hence the plan to camp in a cabin with actual beds and not in a tent with non actual bed-like aparatusi.
The night grew pitch black as we drove a ten passenger van up the windy mountain roads. At times it was hard to navigate and without cell reception, we were only guessing that we were going in the right direction.
My heart was beating fast as we took one hairpin turn after another in a vehicle that did not seem conducive to the road conditions. The road took a steep incline and we went up, up, up past a teeny outhouse looking building right off the side of the road.
“What is that,” I pondered.
“That’s where Jason Voorhees keeps the bodies.”
Just then a tree branch grabbed hold of the van’s windows with a loud screech. The loud gasp that escaped my mouth was apparently hilarious to my companions.
We unloaded the van using only the light of the full moon. On one of my trips back to the van I found myself outside alone. I grabbed a big bag of food and struggled to carry it toward the cabin when a rustling in the bushes not five feet away got my attention. I whipped my head to the right but nothing was there. When I brought up the strange sound, the rest of my friends agreed that they had heard it too. With that realization we locked the cabin doors and each hunkered down in one of the four side by side beds in the loft.
That night, our friend’s cute toddling tot woke up shrieking in what appeared to be a night terror. No amount of hugging, comforting, or assuring would calm her down. Magically she didn’t wake up the other kids. Not long after she finally relaxed back to sleep, us four adults were awakened by the the abrupt sound of hail pounding on the tin roof. The noise was so loud that Chris and I had to yell at the top of our voices to be heard and we were only a few inches apart. Once again, by some magical force, none of the kids woke up. Little did I know that this restless night of commotion was only a small foreshadowing to the terror that awaited me early the next morning.
On Saturday, being the fitness goddess that I am, I set my alarm early and woke up to workout. After a 30 minute Jillian Michaels workout DVD I was feeling pumped and energized and ready to start my day. I sat out on a wooden swing on the large wraparound porch, breathed in the cool mountain air and enjoyed the quiet stillness of the morning. As a mama of two littles it was a feeling I didn’t get to experience often.
I was feeling so jazzed about life that I decided to go for a quick little jog before everyone else woke up. The morning was so breezy and quiet and the view so pretty I figured it was the perfect atmosphere. I started my descent down the steep gravel driveway at a quick walk. The road was so steep that I was afraid I would slip if I sped up my pace at all. I went past the ‘Jason Voorhees’ shack, which didn’t look nearly as frightening in the light of day, and down the rest of the driveway where I found myself in a cul de sac. I stopped for a minute to look up at the beautiful trees that framed a gorgeous morning sky.
I pulled out my phone and began to take pictures of the mountains and trees and that’s when I heard it. A sound I can only describe as a loud exhaling of breath from the nostrils of a large beast. I gave myself whip lash as I turned to see where the sound came from. Just up from where I was standing, a few feet over from the subject of my photos, was a mass of black fur. I stood frozen in fear for what seemed like minutes. Then it’s head shot up and we locked eyes. It had seen me, the largest most ferocious looking bear I had ever seen outside of a natural history museum. It took me seconds to realize what I needed to do and I took off running back up the steep incline of the gravel driveway.
^^The bear was just out of the right side of the frame of this photo
It seemed like the bear was quite a ways away from me but I had no idea how fast they could run or if my sudden movement would catch his attention. My thighs burned from my workout as I ran faster than I thought possible up the steepest incline. I had barely gotten halfway up the driveway when I heard the gravel crunch behind me. His steps were quick, something I’d compare to a gallop, and I knew he wasn’t far behind. I pushed on harder and faster, the cool air that I was just enjoying had begun to burn my lungs as I heaved in breath after breath.
I started to fear that my legs might give out at any moment but I knew that I couldn’t slow my pace let alone stop. I neared the top of the driveway and turned the corner to see the cabin in view. I was so close. As I turned I caught a glimpse of black fur in my peripheral vision. I tried to speed up but it was no use, my legs were weakening and I was losing momentum. I couldn’t help but slow down the tiniest bit and it was just enough to give him the advantage. He got close enough to me that I could hear his breath and nearly feel it on my back.
That gave me a shot of adrenaline that propelled me up the front porch and into the front door. I slammed it hard just in time to hear his massive body crash into it. My fingers fumbled in an attempt to lock the door as if that could somehow keep him. It was still for a moment and I thought he left but my peace was fleeting as only seconds later his body once again smashed into the door, harder this time.
The door came crashing into me and knocked me to the floor into the kitchen. I briefly used the door as a shield until his claws managed to pierce the wood and come within inches of my face. I managed to roll out from underneath it and grab the only weapon I could find: a broom.
The beast came charging at me, jaw wide, saliva spewing as he roared. I used the broom to brace open his gaping mouth and keep it from closing on me. We struggled for some time around the kitchen, him attempting to claw and bite at any part of me he could reach and me using every bit of strength I had left to push him back with that surprisingly useful broom. At last I was knocked against the fridge where a thought popped into my head.
Holding the bear off with the broom in one hand, I yanked the door open and ripped open a package of raw beef meant for our dinner that night. The bear took one whiff of the dripping package and tried to leap for it. I managed to throw the thing with some force out the front door and deep into the forest.
My hungry foe had lost all interest in me and ran straight for the meat, forgetting his original target. I stood there in the suddenly still kitchen panting, staring at the destruction and wondering what we were going to eat for dinner that night.
That one time I almost fell to my death from the top of a steep, slippery desert mountain side
Chris and I spent a lovely weekend in Colorado visiting his family and getting to see his brother who had just returned from a two year LDS mission in Virginia. We decided to take our time on the 6 hour drive back home and take in some sights to make the drive more enjoyable. Plus it would give the kids more time out of the car.
On one such pit stop we pulled into the gravelly parking lot of Wilson Arch- one of the arches in Arches National Park, which you might recognize from one of Utah’s license plates. It was so pretty from the bottom that we figured, Hey, why not hike to the top of this tricky climb while assisting a toddler and an infant. What could possibly be wrong with that??
I passed Remi to Chris and took Evelyn’s hand and we began slowly scaling the mountainside. I followed carefully in Chris’ path to avoid slipping and to help Evelyn along. It didn’t seem so bad until I took one step on a rock covered in a fine layer of sand and my foot slipped right out from under me. That foot had been bracing not only my body weight but also Evelyn’s who was perched on my hip. I tightened my grip on her and pulled her tight into my body as I fell toward the mountain and my hand grasped to find any hold that would keep me from slipping down.
I slid less than a foot before my hand found a rock to catch myself on the sheer mountain face. It was only then that it occurred to me that perhaps flip flops were not appropriate climbing gear. In an effort to save myself and my squirming toddler who wanted to, “Slide again please” I kicked off both flip flops and stayed low to the ground as I made my way back up to Chris who had watched the whole thing helplessly while holding Remi.
It wasn’t too much longer before we made it to the top of the arch and I had to sit and get my bearings. But sitting meant turning around and seeing how far we had just come from the flat ground below.
Suddenly my eyes started spinning, it was like one of those cartoons where the little coyote realizes that the cliff edge he was standing on has disappeared and he’s standing in mid air and his eyes bug out of his head when he sees how high up he is only seconds before he falls and makes a coyote shaped hole in the ground.
Apparently, I’m afraid of heights. Go figure. Chris beckoned me underneath the arch to take a picture and after some deep breathing I was able to oblige.
Then it was time to make our descent which turned out to be even more difficult than our climb to the top. Once again I carefully followed in Chris’ footsteps forgetting all too quickly how well that worked for me the last time.
I was helping Evelyn climb over a small rock when Chris slipped. He didn’t fall but it was enough to make me gasp and jerk my head up. I had images of my infant son falling off the edge of the cliff. Unfortunately the jerking motion threw me off balance and caused me to trip over a rock and tumble backwards down the hill straight toward the cliff’s edge.
Chris managed to toss Evelyn on his back where she gripped her tiny hands around his neck. With a toddler on his back and an infant in his arms he made a controlled slide to the edge of the cliff where he was just in time to grab my hand before I disappeared over the edge entirely. He expertly pulled me to the top with one arm, set me on my feet and then ripped open his shirt and beat his chest as he yelled his battle cry into the heavens.
Haha oh man.. I can’t even finish this one. It’s a little too far fetched even for me. But it gave me a good laugh so that’s something. Wow.
So yeah…I may have exaggerated a bit there but what fun is life if you can’t let your imagination wander from time to time.