Friday, February 17, 2012

She Loves Hard

While LC was running errands in Tullahoma this morning I loaded Jamie into the truck and headed for Tims Ford State Park.
Over the past few months I have taken many pictures of Tims Ford Lake, as well as the paved trails and dirt trails and cabins and boat ramps and wildlife and golf courses that are all located throughout the park, but I have not walked on the single track trails even once since we arrived back in Tennessee.
On a day that began very sunny and warm and ended completely overcast (but still warm) James and I excitedly headed for the trails.
We parked the truck in the empty parking lot at Marble Plains Baptist Church and headed out.
After taking a couple of pictures of the very beautiful and always quiet church I looked around me briefly, trying to get my bearings and remember exactly where the single track trail entrance was located.
It had been a long time.
The single track mountain bike trail is a 12 mile out-and-back filled with lots of tree roots, multiple short and steep climbs and beautiful views of the lake which it parallels.
I have ridden the trail a handful of times over the years and have also run it infrequently.
I have not been on the trail often for two reasons.
1.  It is an out and back with no bail-out points along the way.
In real terms that means that there are no places to pull off the trail if you have a major bike mechanical issue or an injury or are just simply time crunched. 
In theory, the way the trail is set up, the only way you can get off the trails is to retrace your steps and go back the way you came.
Which is not a big issue if you have only been on trail for 15 minutes, but is a real pain if you are a few miles in.
A few years ago LC and I were mountain biking on single track at Tims.
About four miles in, LC took a very hard fall on his bike and hurt his shoulder badly enough that he could no longer ride.
We hated to do it, but given the situation had little choice and ended up bike whacking off trail, up a hill, and through somebody's back field private property until we found the road leading back to the park.
It was painful for him but he could road ride well enough to get back to the truck.
2.  It is a straight forward out and back with no other trails to explore.
For a lot of riders that is not an issue. 
They love Tims Ford trail because it is beautiful and lengthy and challenging.
I have always preferred the base trails because there are so many options.
So many single track and double track and horse trails and jeep trails and paved roads that I can change up workouts whenever I want to. 
And I have control over the length of the workout both in terms of time and distance, which means lots of options and lots of freedom.
But on this first sunny day is a long while James and I walked through the parking lot of this very sweet church, down a short paved trail and headed onto single track at Tims................
The mountain bike trail is a winding, up and down, root filled, tree lined, quiet place and Jamie walked point as she always does.
She waits patiently while I take pictures.
Stops frequently to mark and inspect things that are interesting for curious pups, and when I walk beyond her she quickly runs in front of me to regain her rightful place.
I spent my time today enjoying brief views of the calm lake seen through the trees, and watching my dog with her pigeon toed front legs and bow legged back legs and her happy-to-be-walking wagging curly tail.
I like my dog very much and much more than most people that I know...............
We walked in one direction for about 45 minutes before sitting together on the side of the trail.
I had brought one bottle of water to share, poured part of that water into a bowl I was carrying in the back of my pack for James, and we happily drank together before turning back and heading for the trail head again.
On the spur of the moment I headed right towards the water instead of left towards the parking lot and my truck.
This wide open double track was deeply rutted out, and as we slowly headed down the trail I thought back to times I have ridden this trail in the past.
When I was mountain biking I would typically park my truck at the park Visitors Center.
From there I would hit a one mile paved trail that eventually transitions from black top to single track.
Half a mile later I would find myself on this rutted out double track that connects with the long single track Jamie and I had just left.
The double track was deeply rutted out - far more so than the last time I had ridden on it.
It would be a challenging PIA to ride now but was easy enough to walk..............
And it ended at this quiet and beautiful cove.
The lake was very calm and very quiet in mid-Winter, and as usual I was acutely aware of how much I miss the high water levels of summer, how glad I was that there were no people around me and how much I was missing the color green...............
As James and I wandered along the very rocky shoreline I looked down and saw these shells.
There were shells everywhere, all like these ones, small and pearl white.................
By the time we climbed the hill back up to the parking lot and the truck both woman and dog were very warm, and we sat in the shade for a few brief moments to drink more water before leaving the park.
A quiet and uneventful walk................
As I drove back towards the main entrance of the park I had full intentions of turning left and taking the back roads home.
As I pulled to a stop though I made the instant decision to turn right and drive to Tims Ford Dam.
It was most definitely not on the way home.
In fact it was in the complete opposite direction.
But I have memories of the dam and suddenly and unexpectedly felt compelled to head that way.
A very low Elk River taken from one of the overlooks and parking lots at the dam.............
I was looking for a specific place at the dam.
Blowing by the first overlook I pulled into the second parking lot and realized that this was not the place that I was looking for.
 I left Jamie in the truck and walked down a grassy hill taking pictures of pieces of the dam and portions of the river as I went................
Climbing back into the truck I smiled at my sweet dog, talked to her briefly, kissed her on the top of the head, and drove further up the road.
I had only been up to the dam once and it was late at night so did not know exactly where I was going or what I would find.
Following a sign and arrow pointing to a boat ramp I turned left.
Pulling into the parking lot the multiple circular tire marks on the pavement confirmed that I had found the right place and as I looked at them I went back in time............

When I was married I lived about five miles from the dam.
My youngest son was a senior in high school at the time and only a short while before, had moved up from his old Dodge Ram truck to a Ford Ranger.
He still had the Ram and he drove it sometimes because he loved it so much, but it was used mainly around the farm.
One late night he walked into the house and I immediately knew that something was wrong.
He told me and my husband that he had been doing donuts at the dam and rolled his truck.
Are you alright?  Yes.
Where's the truck now?  Still at the dam.
Were you alone?  Yes
How did you get home?  I walked.
Why didn't you call us?  My cell phone's dead.
We grabbed some chains and ropes and headed back to the dam.
The truck was laying completely upside down and sitting on its roof in the middle of the parking lot.
One whole side was completely smashed in.
The roof was completely smashed in.
The windshield was completely smashed in.
It was an older model Ranger but it had been shiny and dent free and paid for and it had run well, and now it was totalled.
Standing in the darkness and silence and starkness of the night and a crashed vehicle, I was suddenly furious at my son for doing something so stupid.
So completely angry that he could have badly injured or killed himself.
I turned away from the vehicle and wordlessly looked at my very tall son who was my youngest child.
I had never struck my son before in his entire life. Not once. It just was not the way I raised the boys.
I looked at him and too-calmly said "You could have killed yourself".
And then I slapped him furiously across the face sending him reeling backwards from the force.
He was stunned and wordless.
We got the truck upright and pulled it home.
Chris drove the Ram again but within six months he had begged and borrowed and bartered to get the roof pounded out and the windshield replaced and the truck running again.
It never ever looked the same again but he kept it running until he joined the military a few years later.
He gave it to a friend of his before he left for basic training..........

We never spoke about my reaction to the truck accident.
But Chris spent two wonderful weeks with me and LC and Jamie up in Alaska.
When my son left Juneau LC told me that he and Chris had talked about that night.
LC told Chris that I had reacted that way because I loved him very much.
According to LC Chris touched his cheek, laughed and said "she loves hard"................
More pictures from the dam.................
As adults, we must ask more of our children than they know how to ask of themselves................Dawna Markova

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Imagination And Reason

After spending a long time exploring stone structures that I had unexpectedly come across while wandering on beaches and short trails, I headed back to the bridge.
The weather was warmer than the freezing cold temperatures we had had both days of the weekend but was still cool and I stood on the bridge wishing that I had brought one more layer of clothing with me.
I needed to keep moving and headed down to the beach beside the bridge to take pictures of objects that were unfamiliar to me....................
They were intriguing, artistic, unique in their shape.
I stood looking at these very interesting objects that were completely foreign to me, briefly enjoying their form even though I had no idea of their function.
I had no idea at all what they were but was drawn to them and liked them anyway.
And then this morning it occurred to me that they might have the same function as the Christmas trees I saw in the water at the base not too long ago - to draw in the fish.
Maybe not but right now that is my guess...................
I wandered slowly along the edge of the driveway heading towards the point at the far end of the park and looked closely at the shallow lake on both sides of the road.
A very large blue heron was resting on a log in the middle of the lake and I snapped one quick picture of him as soon as I saw him, not knowing how long he would stay in one place.
I had hoped to take multiple pictures of him as I walked closer and had time to zoom my camera in but I never did get the chance to do that.
I had time to take this one picture before he took to the sky - flying in a large semi-circle before landing on the beach on the opposite side of the lake.
Disappointed I continued walking, curious to see what else I would run into in my quiet travels.................
Two elderly men fishing from the shore...................
Two more logs poking out above the lake, now visible because the water level was so low.
There were gnarly shaped logs everywhere in the lake that I had had no idea were there before this visit..........
I had been wandering slowly but consistently for a while, but when I saw these two logs I stopped for a moment, and zoomed in to take a closer picture of one of them.
As I stood on the beach looking at them briefly, and then considering them more deeply, they suddenly began to take on the silent and unmoving appearance of something prehistoric or space-creature like.
Oh jeeze Karin - grow up!
Self-recrimination for an overactive imagination.
Looking at these two logs one last time I silently shook my head, forgot about them and continued further down the beach...............
One of two fishing boats on the lake yesterday...................
I was used to walking the beaches in Juneau where the tide ebbed and flowed and where I could some days walk in sand that had been underwater perhaps just the day before.
But I wasn't used to doing that in Tennessee.
 I walked in the sand - some of it solid and dry and some of it very soft and wet - and found myself looking back frequently and feeling slightly disoriented for the second time that day...............
As I slowly walked towards this log I looked down at it mesmerized by the weird Picasso-like face I could see in it.
OK..........my brain was definitely working in some type of weird overactive place.
When I was adventure racing there were many times when my exhausted and sleep-deprived brain wandered irrevocably towards hallucinations.
For a long while there was a trend to start races late at night.
I remember waking up at 8am the morning of one race thinking that I would be able to take a nap before the race started at midnight.
Between race check-in, paperwork to fill out, gear inspections (and it was a long winter race so there was a lot of multi-sport gear), race meetings, map plotting, race strategy sessions, pack packing, gear drop-offs, meals and visiting with other teams and getting dressed for the race and race excitement and nerves.............no nap.
So both my team-mate and I had already been up and about for 16 hours before the race even started.
We paddled for 18 1/2 hour and by the time we got off the river at 6:30pm the next night all I desperately wanted to do was sleep.
Only we couldn't sleep.
The ropes section was scheduled to close at 8:30pm and if we wanted to get the 200 foot ascent in and the 300 foot rappel in we had to do it right away, and we did.
Back at the transition area after the ropes we finally had a chance to sleep in the back of a uhaul trailer that was being used to transport gear from one transition area to the next for those teams who did not have a support crew (which included us).
Lead teams were far ahead of us by this time and the guy transporting the trailer had to leave within an hour so that he could be at the next transition area before the lead teams barrelled in looking for their stuff.
We slept for 45 minutes and quickly got geared up to head out for a trekking section in the mountains.............

I was doing fine until late morning during that (first) paddle section of the race when my brain finally went into overdrive.
On the water I began to hallucinate - animals standing along the shore, sitting in the trees, floating in the air.
Horses curled up in a ball sleeping on rocks in the middle of the river.
Rocks along the shore turned into piles and piles of skulls in neat rows.
And a giant dead Mr Peanut lying along the shore, complete with top hat, monocle, cane, peanut shaped body and skinny arms and legs..................

By the time we headed into the freezing cold mountains the Sleep Monsters were alive and throughout the night and throughout the next morning I saw things non-stop that weren't there.
I walked towards a giant rock face staring at it because I could see a face in it and was waiting for it to talk in some kind of weird deep Harry Potter movie voice.
I stared at a log in the middle of the trail as I approached it, certain that it would talk at any moment because it looked exactly like Daffy Duck.
Sticks turned into snakes.  Small animals jumped out in front of me and darted across the trail.
More animals - animals everywhere - standing and floating and curled up sleeping.
People rustling leaves while running through the woods.
Big black SUV's and small shacks up ahead on the trail.
A giant shadow family sitting on a bench watching a show on a big screen.
The world was fuzzy around the edges like the picture used to be on very old TV's and the world looked watery.
I had no depth perception so had difficulty lifting my feet over objects, and learned what it was to eat and sleep and walk all at the same time - always waking with a start by taking an unexpected step sideways to alert my team-mate that I had actually been sleeping while we were moving.
By the time we got out of the mountains I collapsed in exhaustion and slept for 2 hours before heading out on bike.
It was snowing by then and freezing cold, and the two-woman team that had slept beside us for those two hours decided to pull out of the race.
These complete strangers threw a few extra supplies at us and sent us on our way. 
And then adopted us.
These two wonderful women from NY state who were complete strangers to us became our support team and cared for us at transition areas throughout the rest of the race.
Extreme kindness of strangers...................

A starfish shaped log.
Somebody (not me) even found two small shells for the eyes..................
Foot prints in the sand.................
When I saw these multiple logs clustered together in one section of the lake I finally decided to just go with the flow and unapologetically embrace my sometimes overactive imagination.
One more day not long ago when my brain told me a story to describe what I was seeing:
The logs DID look prehistoric or as though they were some kind of weird creatures from outer space.
Those who shrink heads for a living could probably have a field day..............
A man walking in the sand with a metal detector, looking as though he found some kind of treasure.............
Imagination and Reason
Author Unknown

Imagination does not
Care for reason.
Reason does not
Care for imagination.
The poet in me cries
For imagination-wings.
The philosopher in me cries
For reason-sword.