[at-l] The Most Fun you've had on the trail

[shane at theplacewithnoname.com (Shane Steinkamp)]

Oh, and here's part two...which I've posted here previously.  I've
definitely had more 'fun' in the rain than at any other time.  I love the
rain.  Even after days and days and days.  I don't particularly care for the
fact that everything I own winds up sopping wet, or for the fact that I and
all my gear smells like a wet dog, but I do love the rain.

There are a couple of good 'love the rain' stories that I could tell you,
but there is one that stands out as illustrative and funny, so that's the
one I'll burden you with.

To properly paint this story, you'll have to know Chief. When I first met
him, I thought he must be Native American.  He has long, straight, jet black
hair that flows around his shoulders like a kingly mane when he doesn't have
it tied back.  His round, moon-pie face is serious and knowing.  As it turns
out, my initial guess was wrong.  Chief is a huge man of Italian descent.
Really big. 6'6" and gentle as a kitten, despite looking like a candidate
for a chainsaw massacre villain when I first laid eyes on him.  He looks
like an Indian, and sure enough that's why everybody calls him Chief - not
just on the trail, but in real life too.  He rarely has much to say, but he
can make poignant and witty comments easily.  When he does get to talking,
it's hard to shut him up, and we have had many conversations that lasted all
night.

Chief is strange to hike with.  He has his own pace, but that pace varies
from minute to minute.  Sometimes he will be miles ahead, then sometimes
miles behind.  A few times I have passed him, only to find him AHEAD of me
on the trail at some future point.  I think he does it just to see the look
on your face...  He is, however, one of my favorite people to walk with.  He
rarely intrudes on my solitude.  He is a genuine wandering bum.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...  well, actually it was 1993 in
Mammoth Spring State Park in Arkansas.  We were just passing through.  I was
on my way home, and Chief decided to come for the walk and a visit, and we
couldn't resist seeing a spring that is large enough to start a river.

We knew from our last stop that a front was coming through and the weather
would go bad, so we were ready for the rain. I was looking forward to it,
and Chief was his usual stoic self.  When we saw the forecast he had said,
"Well, some days are made for rain."  That is his favorite thing to say
about bad weather.  If you ever hike with him, he'll say it every time it
starts raining, and often during the storm.  I suspect it's his way of
reminding himself that he can't change the weather.

So we hiked in to Mammoth Spring, and back out, thinking of home.  Chief was
somewhere behind me, probably entranced by some passing cloud, shade of leaf
color, or buzzing insect. Far be it from me to second guess his personal
interaction with his world - all I really knew was that he was somewhere
behind me.  We hadn't seen another soul all day.  I suppose everyone knew
that the weather was going sour so they stayed indoors.

The front came through in a long line of clouds.  A tremendous wall that
slowly rolled over and rolled in.  I was in an open meadow watching the
front come in and the silver sky turn a dark gray.  I could feel the change
in the air.  I could smell the rain coming.  I could hear the thunder, and
see the flash of lightning.  I could feel the power of the storm.  I could
see the wall of clouds getting closer.  Then I saw the rain.

A wall of water slowly marching my way across that open space.  An army of
droplets that could not be stopped.  I was suddenly captured by a strange
joy.  "The rain spirits have come to visit!"  Like a child possessed, I
dropped my pack, stripped off, and stuffed my entire kit into a lawn &
garden bag and tied a knot in the top.  Then I ran, whooping and hollering
straight into the wall of cold rain.  I danced, I laughed, I cried, I did
cartwheels, I wiggled my toes, I rolled around in the mud, and generally
behaved like a psychotic savage off his medication.  I did this for a long
time.  It brought me a lot of joy.  I was a child again, innocence
restored - the rain had washed through my soul.

In the end, as I rolled around on the ground in my seizure of ecstasy, I was
caught by a fit of laughter - that primal laughter that you just can't seem
to shut off; the kind of laughter that you get when it isn't appropriate to
laugh - like laughing in church.  Fortunately, I was alone in church that
day, so I let the laughter have its way, and rolled around some more.

With all the thunder, rain, dark skies, and my own fit of joy, I didn't
notice that Chief had caught up to me at some point.  I looked up, and there
he was, draped in his poncho, looking sort of like a very wet grim reaper,
resting on his staff, and watching me in all my lunacy. Chief had seen me in
all modes of dress and undress, and in many modes of mood as well - but I
wasn't sure what he was going to think of this one.  I stood up and waved to
him.  I didn't know if he would think I was nuts, laugh at me, or abandon me
completely for fear of his life.  His response, though, belied no sense that
he thought anything was strange.  He walked up and said, "Sorry to bother
you man, but do you want to take a break for lunch?"

It rained the rest of the day, but petered out to a nice steady drizzle.
Now, when it starts to rain, Chief says, "Some days are made for rain.  Try
not to let it go to your head."

Well, sometimes I can, and sometimes I can't.  Even in the city I will
sometimes go lay out naked in the grass while it rains. Who am I to turn
down a free soul massage?

Try this at home.  Any rain will do.

***

It's interesting that I should have the opportunity to relate this again
right now because Chief called me on the telephone three weeks ago.  I'm
still waiting to see what a collect call from Mumbai is going to cost me.

I said, "What are you doing in Asia?  The last I heard, you were in Africa."

"Crazy white men walking around in Africa aren't very welcome in too many
places.  Here in India, there are so many crazy people walking around that
one more doesn't make any difference."

"How did you get there?"

"I walked."

"Liar!"

"OK, I took a boat.  Which is what I want to talk to you about.  Once I'm
done out here, I'd like to come stay with you for a few weeks.  It'll be
like old times."

Oh, he has no idea...

Shane