Things That Strike Back

The Noses and I are pretending that it is raining outside.  We are enclosed within Beagle at 10:45 AM, having done our four mile morning walk (everyone), bit of a race around the off-leash area here in the RV Park (Opus) and second cup of coffee in the sun (me.)  Now we all need a break from this unrelenting sunshine.  (Apologies to my readers in Seattle.)  Beagle is amazingly accommodating; with the shades down, windows open and the ceiling fan keeping the air circulating, it is only about 70 degrees in here, I don’t even need the A/C…yet.

This trip has taught me that wherever I land, my first instinct is to run away.  Landing here was no different.  If it hadn’t been for seeing my wonderful friends, I would have high-tailed it out of here the day after my arrival.   Looking back on my life, I see this desire to flee strikes me often—and is usually heeded—but when I cannot (like here or like my solo trip to St. Kitts shortly after Alan’s death when I spent the first morning in a failed attempt to fly back to Colorado) it is usually for a good reason.  As with St. Kitt’s so it is with Amado, Arizona, but that is where the similarities end.

After discovering my delightful table, which is now officially named 501 and meticulously stored in Wurzig’s passenger seat when not in use (a damn good thing I am alone on this trip—“sorry travel partner, you have to leave now, I have a cocktail table”) I figured there were more rewards to be discovered.

As planned, I took the Noses on “the one hike I could find”—a snarky comment from my last post.  I had asked AllTrails for a hike of at least five miles that allowed dogs and it came back with only one:  Old Baldy Trail in Madera Canyon. 

To my joy, the directions pulled us to the East and into the hills I am accustomed to enjoying from a distance on my morning walks.  Set in Madera Canyon, the Mount Wrightson Wilderness Area is a delight of interlinking trails, many offering precious shade before climbing to the crest of the hills.  (It is difficult to call these mountains after being in the Sierra Nevada.)   Being prepared for only a five mile hike, I didn’t bring along my morning coffee or lunch.  (Alltrails failed to mention that this trail links to about ten others.)  With no water flowing in the creeks, I had to share my water with the Noses, so despite a strong desire to continue on another trail once we reached the top, I made myself come back down the way we came.  Better the trail you know when out of food and water.

Which made me wonder, on the way down the hill, if I believe so strongly that everything happens for a reason, that life turns on a dime and bad things don’t happen to me, why am I not always prepared for life turning to my advantage?  Why not pack a PB&J?  You know, just in case?

I was alternating this thought with the fact that Opus hasn’t killed anything in two months when, right on cue, Opus lunged forward, striking out at a snake.  (Being in the land of coyotes, javelinas, deer and snakes the Noses were on leash.)

The snake struck back before quickly coiling, leaving his fangs on display.  Opus’ fangs were also on display as were my vocal cords as an involuntary scream leapt from my throat.  We backed up—much to Opus’ dismay.  The picture above has the snake in it although you have to zoom to see it.

I could not tell if it was a rattlesnake, it wasn’t shaking its tail.  But it was aggressive.  Growing up in Southern California, I have seen plenty of snakes.  And even rattlers would rather move away than engage.   Not this snake—he wanted to engage as much as Opus. 

So I waited.  He did not move although he eventually, thankfully, closed his mouth.  After a few minutes I began tossing small rocks in his direction trying to entice him to one side of the trail or the other.  He was oblivious until one rolled into him at which point the fangs came back out.  Definitely not the reaction I wanted.  I remembered that snakes can jump and move quickly when they want—it was time to stop pissing him off.

After about ten minutes a man came up the trail.  I cautioned him about the snake and, when he saw the serpent only a few feet away, involuntarily jumped back.  I didn’t feel like such a wimp.

He looked closely at it and agreed it wasn’t a rattler but didn’t know what else it might be.  He found a long stick and began scratching the dirt beside the snake.  Apparently this was an enticement the snake could respect as he began to move off to the side.  The stick scratching continued until the snake was well off the trail.

I thanked the man and dragged Opus and River away—both were intent on getting the snake, lunging for the point where he disappeared over the side.

I am still wondering whether I will do another hike.  If so, I will be more prepared for the unknown delights that life might bring.

Speaking of delights, Saturday night, following a day of golf and what is sure to be a fantastic dinner at the Tubac Golf & Spa Resort (celebrating my friend’s birthday), I have booked the Noses and I into one of their fancy rooms.  This is mostly due to the fact that there will be a lot of drinking and there is an immigration check point on the highway between Tubac and my RV park.  Every time I pass through I want to lower my window and ask, “Am I white enough for you?”  But I am fearful of what might strike back.  A small portion of my soul crumbles each time I pass without comment.

So I will leave you all with the question du jour:  How many long, hot baths can Kit take in the course of eighteen hours?

I am sure they will have big, fluffy white robes too.  I might need two nights.

-K

PS:  If you would like more information on the Sam Harris Waking Up Course, his visit to the Tim Ferriss Show is an excellent introduction to Sam and the course.  Buckle up.