I needed a vacation so much. A solitary vacation. It's been a long time since I had a solitary vacation, more than 2.5 years, and I first justified it by claiming that no one else could take Tuesday through Thursday off like I could. But the truth was I just needed to turn OFF. After a long Spring semester at USU, scientific conferences, another intense field season, and my grandpa dying I just needed to stop thinking and start doing. I love my vacations with Brent, in fact the 2.5 years since my last solitary vacations and the 2.5 years I've been dating Brent line up almost exactly. But we usually go on climbing trips, and climbing is a necessarily ON task because of the need to maintain safety and communicate between climber and belayer. I felt a strange need to make sure that everyone knew I wasn't leaving Brent behind, I'm not mad at him or anything, but then I realized that Brent didn't question any of this and felt really great about my dating choices because he seems to totally get it. Yeah me!
In addition to the needs for vacation listed above, I was just feeling crappy. I hadn't been sleeping well, I had no motivation to do work, and my insides hurt. It was probably stress, but my insides felt like there wasn't enough space for all my organs, I felt squished and tight. My legs were screaming at me all the time to get out and stretch them. I needed to do something so active my legs would scream at me to stop and I would sleep soundly because I was physically exhausted. So I came up with the idea for the Great Salt Lake Spectacular. I've been eyeing a few mountain peaks all summer long, Frary Peak on Antelope Island, where I've been before; Box Elder Peak, which is the highest point in the Wellsville Mountains; and Deseret Peak in the Stansbury Mountains, which stares me in the face everytime I find myself south of Farmington, Utah. What greater way to justify a vacation than to spend a few days viewing my area of study (Great Salt Lake wetlands) from high points?
It was pretty magical when I started hiking. My legs and back loosened up. Eventually my hips released all their tension. I fell asleep my first night within minutes of putting my notepad down. I always leave on such trips intending to attain a Zen-like mastery of my emotions, but they're really just an emotional roller coaster. Just ask my mom, I cried at her for no good reason on Wednesday morning, but it wasn't alarming to me, it's just the emotions that come with an adventure. My final day I was finally able to articulate my need for solitary adventure and here it is:
Why do this? Why live through the fear and pain of an arduous solo vacation? Because I have four limbs, 20 digits and more than 300 pairs of muscles, and they all work! Because when those muscles stop working, I want stories to remember so I don't have to relive the same handful of events over and over. I want stories to tell! Because there are amazing things in this world and interesting people to meet and you only find them out in the wild. Because I don't want to bust my ass building a career all the time, I WANT A LIFE! I just want to live! Because I think those moments when you have to stop and say "Oh my gosh, how amazing is it that I'm right here, right now, experiencing this great thing?" are critical to living a happy life. A vacation guarantees I have those moments that make me stop and babble about how great things are right in this moment, just ask Brent about our climbing/mountain bike trips, I can't stop grinning and enjoying the great things we're privileged to because we decided to go up to wherever we are. And because the most delicious pain in the work is the self-inflicted pain I feel after throwing myself against rocks, through running or biking or climbing, and I've missed it in all the mud-racking and desk-slaving I've done as a student.
So that's why I need vacations. My mom called this my Neener-neener vacation, because I was essentially saying "Neener-neener, I'm going on vacation while you all start school and go to work." But there were some philosophical underpinnings too.
I've got big plans for some science-laden blogs about my Great Salt Lake Spectacular(!), but before that I'll just throw out some pictures of the highlights of said Spectacular:
1. I tried to figure out my new tripod and camera on Box Elder Peak (bad idea), but also got to see my home (Logan) and my study area (Great Salt Lake wetlands) from one place (great idea). I also met a man in his 50's (at least, maybe even 60's) going up and down and up and down the Wellsvilles via unconventional routes, he told me I was doing great. I'm inspired.
2. I got to sit on the Spiral Jetty all by myself for an hour. That's never happened to me before. I got to think about how the rocks must have changed being flooded and dried and flooded and dried over the last 40 years. I got to think a lot of about salt. I got to sit and just ponder, and that's nice.
3. I stood atop Frary Peak on Antelope Island and howled at the top of my lungs (literally). I was timid at first, but found that the only way to really howl is to through your head back and use the full force of your voice. It was invigorating.
4. I got to float with a flock of Red-necked Phalaropes on the Great Salt Lake. When the entire flock flew away it sounded like the wind rushing out of no where. It was amazing.
I got to see a neon Great Salt Lake sunset and then run and hide from a thunderstorm in a tent I hadn't liked until that night. I spent my entire kayak trip thinking "There's no way in hell I'm going to be caught by a Great Salt Lake microburst storm in a Duckie" then I got caught in such a storm in my silly little backpacking tent. But the sunset was great and the storm passed, and I talked to my dad and mom that day, so the love of my family was fresh on my mind.
I hiked Deseret Peak in the Stansbury Mountains. I'd never been to these mountains, but I've been oogling this peak from my field sites for months now. At 11,031 feet it was the highest point of this vacation and the highest point of the entire year. This hike produced the most suffering (because it was Peak #3 on Day #3) and the most exclamations of "Holy sh*t, this is my life and it's amazing!" These mountains are beautiful and rugged and there were only 3 other people in the entire wilderness area (as far as I knew).
I saw the remains of the Patch Springs fire that came through two weeks ago. I thought I was actually seeing the fire itself, but it was just ash that got caught in the wind. I also thought I was going to see another fire start due to impending thunderstorms, but that didn't happen either. It was so cool to see first hand how fire moved across these mountains, the weird little patches of burnt trees uphill from entire mountain sides that burned. I also came across years-old burns where smaller things like wildflowers and grasses had already come back. And I rubbed some soot on my face, because that felt right.
And you, my dear reader, have lots to look forward to on this blog because I'll be writing about pluvial Lake Bonneville and how the Wellsvilles looked during the age of the dinosaurs, the ecosystem of our mightly Great Salt Lake, and fire ecology. There will probably also be extensive talk about how cool wetland plants are.
1 comment:
Sounds like an awesome adventure of being you!
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