Aug 23, 2008

TAKE MY EGO DOWN, PASS IT AROUND

Camper, West Coast Trail – Dreams fever the damp night. In one, Rachel Carson reminds me of the conventional wisdom: never attempt Owen's Point – the route's highest evacuation point – on a rising tide. I wake, convinced to go inland.

I am alone in this resolve. My friends want to race the ocean.

So I trudge into the blowdowns alone. And man, does it suck. For two hours, I tag along with some Canadian women, until they start surfing the seaside algae. I watch a few pratfalls, then mouse inward again.

Footfalls echo behind me.

I stop.

They stop.

I walk.

They pad forward.

"Bearcougarthing go away!" I yell with more verve than I feel.

Hush.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. NINETY-NINE BOTTLES OF BEEEEEER!"

6 comments:

  1. Did the monster eat you?

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  2. Been smoking something illegal when you wrote this, petal?

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  3. Ugh, I was stalked by a cougar once. It's cuh-ree-py.

    Tamara

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  4. Nothing so exciting, dahlinks. A big mammal stalked me – possibly a cougar, as the WCT had its first cat prowl about a week later – then I stomped and yelled until it buggered off.

    Really, did you think I sang the beer song for fun?

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  5. The beer song if, of course, great piles of fun. But "99 Bottles" is the classic breathless-hiker-making-noise anthem of the NW...

    Tamara, where did the cougar stalk you?

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