2015 Was Not OK But Some Good Things Happened

It’s been difficult figuring out how to summarize 2015.  I distinctly remember this time last year I had so much that made me happy I actually titled a blog post “Finding Joy in 2014” and couldn’t limit myself to just 14 moments of joy.  But I had a feeling that I might struggle in the future to come up with additional great things as the years increase (15 moments in 2015, 16 in 2016, etc).  Perhaps it was a sign that this year would be less than great, maybe it was my natural pessimism.  I’m torn between listing everything that was uncool this year or the people I’m grateful to for helping me through all the uncool-ness, both lists would be quite long.   My compromise is to list both. 

This year I’ve been too busy, cripplingly self conscious and forced to bail on some awesome plans.  My troubles with the whole year could be summed up in the following story. 

August 3 could have been an interesting day, but it was terrible.  The Tour of Utah came to Logan and the Women’s Race went through my neighborhood!  August 3^rd also fell right in the middle of my time-crunched field season so I chose to do work instead.  Choosing work over fun was a responsible decision, but I regretted it.  For years I’ve looked forward to my field season, but this year I was cranky.  Cranky about working alone, unpleasantly surprised I didn’t like working alone, grouchy that I could feel my body aging, angry at how long field work takes alone, and experiencing DEET-related rage at the excessive number of mosquitoes.  All the negativity I was carrying boiled over on August 3^rd.  It rained more than 6 cm in a few hours, sending water everywhere – through my clothes and into my brand new boots, under my “waterproof” tablet case, all over my camera and phone and into my raincoat pockets.  I thought I was so smart only bringing waterproof things with me into the field, but electronics that can survive being dropped in the marsh won’t work when wet.  Water makes it impossible to type on any touch screen so my tablet typed nonsense, I couldn’t even open the data-gathering app on my phone, and my camera was just taking pictures of the rainwater on the lens. 

Every time I tried to wipe off a screen, dry my nose, or get my hair out of the Velcro on my raincoat I got angrier.  As I was counting saltgrass flowers I completely lost it – I wasn’t going to remember how many flowers there were in each plot, I kept dropping my ruler, magic markers don’t work when wet, and it wasn’t even all saltgrass so I was wasting my time there!  I stood up in the middle of the meadow and cursed, “God!  Why am I even here?!?!”  I couldn’t even curse right!  While I meant that to be two separate exclamations, it sounded like one existential plea to Marsh Llama.   With that I gave up and stomped the half mile back to my rig with my boots full of water and another gallon of water quality samples in my backpack (which couldn’t come from my boots for some stupid reason), but without the ruler.  It was hard work stomping all the way but I did it because I regretted working in the rain when I could have been watching the bike race in the rain.  Even worse, I came back to those wetlands four days later to take pictures in the sunshine.  All regrettable and not the only time I threw a crying hissy fit all by myself in the marsh. 

In between visits a Marsh Master came through and mowed over my monitoring well (and maybe the ruler).

This scenario played out many times this year: suboptimal decisions, bailing, self-consciousness and regret.  I bailed on Mt. Elmer, Mt. Peale, and Abajo Peak – what if I’d started on-time and taken the right way up?  I bailed on the last pitch of Parriot Mesa – what if I’d held on tighter?  I bailed on Phyllis – what if I’d taken the stupider, deer-free way home?  I bailed on a really important relationship – what if I’d said some things earlier or waited it out a little longer?  (It’s more complicated than that, but I like the symmetry of the sentence style.)  I had time to write this today because I bailed on birthday shopping after a terrible accident closed Sardine Canyon. 

As close as I got to Mt. Elmer, Mt. Peale, and Abajo Peak

In OK years I’d have summed everything up like this:  I’m grateful this year that I wasn’t tumbled down a mountain, struck by lightning, eaten by a bear, slain by a deer, frozen, brain-damaged, or physically crushed.  I’m further grateful sadness hasn’t literally broken my heart and that none of those mosquitoes gave me an encephalitic fever.  While I am happy to be alive, I feel thoroughly beaten by this year.  If I don’t acknowledge that it wasn’t OK nothing will change and I’ll get bad juju pretending that everything is epic and awesome when I fail as frequently as everyone else.  It’s been difficult to get by without weekend warrior victories to boost my self esteem.  At the end of many weeks I’ve felt much older than I had seven days before.  In addition to bailing on so many dreams, I’ve been too busy trying to teach and take classes, and complete my own research to focus on the people and activities I love.  I’ve only put up a handful of blog posts this year because I’ve been too busy to write anything fun.  Instead I’ve been working on expressive writing and acknowledging what I feel without reacting to it, so I’m very clear on just how uncool this year was and how uncomfortable that made me. 

Among the uncomfortable feelings I sat with - all the self loathing generated by editing my video lectures.  I'm too itchy and I hate the way I blink and start sentences now.  

But it hasn’t been all bad.  When I look back at the good things that happened this year, it’s clear that I succeeded when I had my people with me. 

Karina and I climbed Lost World Butte with an assist from Brent

Brent, Karina and I successfully located and explored a safe, abandoned mine

I finished my first ultra marathon with Mike and Austin (and it was a great time)

I led most of Longbow Chimney with Brent (lots of problem solving)

I went on the Maine to Maryland Hazelton Hospitality Tour with Chad (and lobster!)

Karina and I finished the Cache Gran Fondo (oh, the views; oh, the suffering)

Minor Solitary Success – I summitted Mt Ellen (in good time and good weather)

I climbed Lost Arrow Spire with Brent (scary yet satisfying; lots of cooperation)

Ran the Top of Utah Marathon and the Halloween Half Marathon (love my running sisters)

The three of us climbed Steinfell’s Dome (not even rain could dampen our spirits)

Ride Around the Wellsvilles v3 was a success (Spooky Edition)

Other good things that happened with my people this year: I went on two family vacations to Bear Lake, full of good views and great company.  My family grew this year with the addition of a 4^th nibling and a brother-in-law.  My people helped me with teaching by giving great guest lectures and helping with field trips.  After my accident with Phyllis, several people helped me get out of Bicknell, and have continued to give me rides or lend me their cars when needed.  My people even helped me through a traumatic break-up. 

I didn’t tell anyone about the end of my relationship for weeks because I was so upset about it and couldn’t bare the terrible responses I expected.  Instead of giving bad advice about forgetting and moving on, my people said the most helpful things.  They said they were surprised and sorry to hear about it; that they didn’t know what to say, but would be thinking about us.  They cried with me, shared their Netflix recommendations, and gently coaxed me out of the house with the promise of sandwiches.  I’ve got a great support system and have a lot of good karma to pay back.  Ultimately I’m faced with an introvert’s nightmare: I need my people in order to be happy.  I don’t know how to proceed with that knowledge, but it’s comforting to have so many moments that renewed my faith in humanity. 

I turned to my Word of the Day emails for some 2016 inspiration found four new, appropriate words:

Peripeteia – a sudden turn of events or an unexpected reversal

Landloper – a wanderer, vagrant, or adventurer

Indefatigable – incapable of being tired out, not yielding to fatigue; untiring

Pandiculation – the act of stretching oneself

I’m hoping for some fortuitous peripeteias in 2016 and to pandiculate as I become an indefatigable landloper.  Thanks for all the love and support this year.   

Another Deer Story

This weekend I fled to the desert to think and cry some place different than my apartment and office. Due to an unfortunate deer encounter, I've been given a bonus day of thinking. It's been thankfully free from crying and given my a lot of perspective into things I'm grateful for.

I always seem to visit Capitol Reef when I'm fleeing.  The first time I visited the park was in 2008 after a misguided winter camping trip to Bryce Canyon (too cold in December).  I fled again in 2010 following the deer encounter in the Henry Mountains and a failed summit bid for Mt. Hilliers.  Just this summer I found myself desperately racing for Capitol Reef after a successful bid at Mt. Ellens, hoping to beat a thunderstorm.  But this weekend's trip was just to enjoy Capitol Reef and I did.  I hiked new trails and spent all day in an entirely new-to-me part of the park: the Cathedral District.  When I rolled into my camp site Saturday afternoon I noticed the in the orchard next to my site did not care about me at all.  I took it as a sign that the deer knew they had a good source of food (apples) and no threats, as there is no hunting in the Park.  But I see now it was an inauspicious sign of bad things to come.
 

Vacation Success! 

By 4:00 pm Sunday I declared the trip a success - I did a lot of thinking and some crying and I was ready to go home.  Getting back to the freeway I was about half way between Hanksville and Torrey, thus halfway between taking the Fishlake route west to I-15 or the Highway 191-6 route east to the freeway.  I hate the drive between Green River and Spanish Fork, so I opted for the Fishlake Forest Route.  Things were going well for an hour -I got back into cell service and let my dad know I was safe, Florence and the Machine and Bright Eyes kept coming up on my iPod, I was alert, the 4 hour drive was going to be alright.  I love driving through the Wayne County towns outside Capitol Reef, they're small but seemingly vibrant.  I could really see myself happy in Bicknell or Torrey.

Happy at the Temple of the Moon 

The climb out of Loa into Fish Lake was alright until there were deer everywhere!  I hit the breaks and swerved around one...  Maybe clipped another... Why were they always in groups of three?  Why were they hanging out in the middle of the highway, people were driving 65 mph down that road?!?!  I slowed, wondering how fast I could safely go when a big deer came up and just stood there.  I honked and hit the breaks, but was still going upwards of 45 mph.  There were so many thunks and popping noises.  It was just awful. 

So much carnage. 

I pulled over to assess the damage, thinking maybe I could just call Highway Patrol and keep driving because it looked like just my headlight was out.  Then I noticed the hood was pretty bent.  And there was steam coming out of the bend in the hood.  And there was blood.  Oh, Phyllis!  Oh, deer!  I called my dad to make sure I was supposed to call 911 about such things (my life wasn't in danger....) - yes, call emergency services after you demolish a deer and your car.  I didn't know it, but the dispatcher put a call out to a tow truck and to the Highway Patrol.   I got all my cries out walking down Highway 24 in search of any big pieces of my car (there were mostly small pieces).  I called my dad, who found the number for my insurance company (because it seems I've used all of my insurance ID cards as kindling), I called the insurance company and got a claim started (a first for me, I've never had a collision I could cover with my insurance), then the tow truck showed up and started putting Phyllis up on the truck.  Things went astonishingly smooth given the number of times I said "I don't know, I've never done this before.  Am I calling the right person?" 

Do you know what was happening during the 30-45 minutes between impact and Phyllis getting on the truck?  Everyone driving down Highway 24 stopped to make sure I was alright.  It was a little frustrating in the middle of it all, when I was just trying to explain to the insurance company what had happened.  But mostly it was so nice.  The tow truck guy took me to a hotel near their shop, the hotel clerk was super nice, even though I was filing a report with UHP while trying to check in.

The Aquarius Motel - not bad at all. 

I had a nice warm place to get cleaned up and sleep.  Monday morning I called the insurance company and against all odds, found a rental car place in the next county over and there's an adjustor coming out to Bicknell to survey the damage. I put a call out on Facebook for help and ended up scheduling a ride out of town within an hour.   (Well, the ride was scheduled, but I had 5 hours to kill in the meantime.) I got an office set up at the library and a place to store all my stuff.

Maggie the Bike and my cooler of snacks have a whole auditorium. 

 It sucks that I hit a deer, but I've undoubtedly got more to be grateful for.  I know, Thanksgiving is just a few days away, do we really need one more gratitude post?  Yeah, I just demolished a deer in the one of the more remote parts of the state and everything turned out alright - I should be grateful.  So here is everything that fell into place today -

• I hit a deer within a mile or so of losing cell service.  I was close enough to Loa to be able to call my dad, 911 and my insurance company.  (It seems so many people pulled over because everyone in that part of Wayne County has hit a deer during the winter and knew it was possible I was freezing in my car with no cell service. 
• I spent all day today out of cell service on dirt roads or winding highways with no shoulder.  I hit a deer during the 8 miles of driving that were safe for me to pull off the road. 
• Hopefully I just damaged the radiator and the body.  My airbags didn't deploy (which could be a problem, but I'm happy about it), my tires and windshield are ok, and I'm just fine. 
• I got immediate offers from my family to come get me and tow my car home.  At 7:00 on a Sunday night. 
• I have adequate insurance on my car. 
• I always pack an extra pair of underwear when I go camping (I afraid I'll fall into a stream and get hypothermic due to wet underwear) and plenty of munchies.  So I've got clean clothes to change into and food to eat, despite the fact that Bicknell was shut down for the day (or season) when we rolled back in.
• There's a hotel open during the shoulder season in Bicknell and it's pretty nice.  Deep bathtub, doors that lock, a little coffee maker. 
• I have really, really great friends who helped me out in a pinch and did so quickly. 
• Strangers are also great. Everyone has been helpful. People are just good and it's nice to remember that. 

I didn't really want to have another night to think about things, but all in all, everything is fine.  I'm pretty upset I slayed (slew?) that deer.  And I'm really upset about the damage to poor Phyllis the Forester, but I've just got to be happy that I've got a warm bed to stay in a plan for tomorrow.

Gypsum Sinkhole is cool. But you and I are stronger than gypsum. When the pressure of life (or sandstone) bear down, we don't collapse! 

Should anyone of you wonder what to do when the local road conditions are "Deer Storms," here's what I learned tonight:

• Slow way down.  You can't stop on a dime and those deer aren't going to move.  Something about "Deer in the headlights." 
•     -Don't try catching up to that car 0.5 miles ahead and hope they will flush all the deer away, just slow down.
• After colliding, pull your car safely out of the roadway.  Maybe make sure the deer is also off the side of the road (or let the generous locals help you with that)
• Call 911.  They can dispatch a tow truck and get Highway Patrol involved, you'll need to file an incident report. 
• Keep your current insurance cards in your car.  They make handy kindling when car camping, but their more important function is proving you've got insurance and keeping important information, like your policy number and important phone numbers, at your finger tips. 
• Think about avoiding driving through the forest at night.  Deer seem to come out in the roadway more often then and it's harder to see them.