Thanks for all the comments on my hiking trip post. The telling of this story has been in me for a long time and I was glad to finally get it out there. Here's the rest of the story.
The police officers wished us a pleasant evening as they escorted us to our car and sent us on our way. My husband, being the generous guy he is, invited the officers to join us for dinner at our hotel and gave them his business card. They didn't take us up on the offer, but it was a nice gesture. It was a good thing for me they didn't take us up on the offer. After the adrenaline rush of riding in a helicopter and being rescued, I was tired. I was tired in a way I had never been so tired before.
We were at the Tailhook convention in Reno, NV. One reason we are at the Tailhook convention is because I work at a booth with the artist, Hank Caruso. I was supposed to be working with Hank while I was walking around in the desert. I was late. In my typical ISTJ, duty fulfiller character, I went to my hotel room, got cleaned up and dressed, and got my butt down to our booth. I went to work. There is definitely something wrong with me. I could barely sit in the chair. I was in a trance. It was almost too much effort to focus my eyes. Hank asked me how I was doing. I debated the question in my head for longer than this question needed thought. What was I going to say? I didn't want to embarrass my husband. When we got into our hotel room to clean up, my husband suggested we keep this story to ourselves. After all, he could have walked out of the desert without any problem. I was the one in need of rescue. After giving this suggestion some thought, he changed his mind. He decided it was my story to share with other or keep to myself. At the time of Hank's question, I hadn't made up my mind. Hank went to the bar and got me a beer. After all, we were at Tailhook and there is a LOT of beer at Tailhook. I couldn't stomach the beer.
With a beer going warm on the table and my near inability to stay upright while sitting in a chair, I decided to tell Hank my story. He was satisfactorily surprised and concerned. I guess that was the response I was looking for. Nevertheless, I was relieved of my duties at the booth and I went up to the room and straight to bed. Stick a fork in me. I was done. Nothing held my interest. My husband tried to feed me. No interest. All I wanted was water and sleep. I was asleep by 7:00 p.m. Hooray!
The next morning I was up and "at 'em" and ready to work. It's amazing what 12 hours of sleep can do for a body. I felt completely restored. I was hungry and ready for breakfast. Sweet recovery. And then I ran into some friends. Friends that hike. Serious hikers. They have special hats and backpacks and backpack bladders for water that have a flexible straw that they can keep in their mouths and drink water continuously. Serious. So, she asked me how my hike went. Suddenly, I BURST into tears. Nobody was more surprised by those tears than I was. What the heck was going on with me? Why was I crying? I guess the very scary, I had to be rescued, hike in the desert had upset me more than I thought it did. So what did I do next?
I planned a hike for Sunday afternoon. My hiker friend was determined to get me "back on the horse" and go on another hike. We went to Lake Tahoe and did a hike up Mt. Rose. It was gorgeous. There were trees and lots of shade. It was a three mile hike up to a waterfall and three miles back down to our cars. My husband brought six bottles of water. Let me tell you this,... if my husband had not brought one drop of water, we wouldn't have gone thirsty. If I asked every person I passed, up and down the Mt. Rose trail for a sip of water, I wouldn't have been thirsty in the least. This was one well traveled trail. Men, women, old ladies, old men, children, dogs, you name it. Everyone was hiking on Sunday afternoon. Hiking, as in real estate, is location, location, location. And, Sundays are busier than Thursdays. Live and learn.
Even though my friend got me back on the trail right away, I haven't hiked again. Well, maybe a little in Sedona, AZ, but not too much. I may get back into it, someday. I'm going to have to see if this is what I want to do. The end.
58. Good friends
59. Interesting work to do
60. Fresh fruits and vegetables
61. Overnight shipping for office supplies
62. What the heck, Office Supplies. Who doesn't like office supplies
63. Text messaging
64. My bible study small group
The police officers wished us a pleasant evening as they escorted us to our car and sent us on our way. My husband, being the generous guy he is, invited the officers to join us for dinner at our hotel and gave them his business card. They didn't take us up on the offer, but it was a nice gesture. It was a good thing for me they didn't take us up on the offer. After the adrenaline rush of riding in a helicopter and being rescued, I was tired. I was tired in a way I had never been so tired before.
We were at the Tailhook convention in Reno, NV. One reason we are at the Tailhook convention is because I work at a booth with the artist, Hank Caruso. I was supposed to be working with Hank while I was walking around in the desert. I was late. In my typical ISTJ, duty fulfiller character, I went to my hotel room, got cleaned up and dressed, and got my butt down to our booth. I went to work. There is definitely something wrong with me. I could barely sit in the chair. I was in a trance. It was almost too much effort to focus my eyes. Hank asked me how I was doing. I debated the question in my head for longer than this question needed thought. What was I going to say? I didn't want to embarrass my husband. When we got into our hotel room to clean up, my husband suggested we keep this story to ourselves. After all, he could have walked out of the desert without any problem. I was the one in need of rescue. After giving this suggestion some thought, he changed his mind. He decided it was my story to share with other or keep to myself. At the time of Hank's question, I hadn't made up my mind. Hank went to the bar and got me a beer. After all, we were at Tailhook and there is a LOT of beer at Tailhook. I couldn't stomach the beer.
With a beer going warm on the table and my near inability to stay upright while sitting in a chair, I decided to tell Hank my story. He was satisfactorily surprised and concerned. I guess that was the response I was looking for. Nevertheless, I was relieved of my duties at the booth and I went up to the room and straight to bed. Stick a fork in me. I was done. Nothing held my interest. My husband tried to feed me. No interest. All I wanted was water and sleep. I was asleep by 7:00 p.m. Hooray!
The next morning I was up and "at 'em" and ready to work. It's amazing what 12 hours of sleep can do for a body. I felt completely restored. I was hungry and ready for breakfast. Sweet recovery. And then I ran into some friends. Friends that hike. Serious hikers. They have special hats and backpacks and backpack bladders for water that have a flexible straw that they can keep in their mouths and drink water continuously. Serious. So, she asked me how my hike went. Suddenly, I BURST into tears. Nobody was more surprised by those tears than I was. What the heck was going on with me? Why was I crying? I guess the very scary, I had to be rescued, hike in the desert had upset me more than I thought it did. So what did I do next?
I planned a hike for Sunday afternoon. My hiker friend was determined to get me "back on the horse" and go on another hike. We went to Lake Tahoe and did a hike up Mt. Rose. It was gorgeous. There were trees and lots of shade. It was a three mile hike up to a waterfall and three miles back down to our cars. My husband brought six bottles of water. Let me tell you this,... if my husband had not brought one drop of water, we wouldn't have gone thirsty. If I asked every person I passed, up and down the Mt. Rose trail for a sip of water, I wouldn't have been thirsty in the least. This was one well traveled trail. Men, women, old ladies, old men, children, dogs, you name it. Everyone was hiking on Sunday afternoon. Hiking, as in real estate, is location, location, location. And, Sundays are busier than Thursdays. Live and learn.
Even though my friend got me back on the trail right away, I haven't hiked again. Well, maybe a little in Sedona, AZ, but not too much. I may get back into it, someday. I'm going to have to see if this is what I want to do. The end.
58. Good friends
59. Interesting work to do
60. Fresh fruits and vegetables
61. Overnight shipping for office supplies
62. What the heck, Office Supplies. Who doesn't like office supplies
63. Text messaging
64. My bible study small group
I have to confess that I don't much like long nature hikes. Sometimes it seems as if people do or they don't. I admire you for getting back out there though. And Hank was a stand up guy for letting you off the hook of that booth.
ReplyDeleteI want to hike Old Rag Mountain with my dad. I'm putting it on my list of life goals.
ReplyDelete(He's hiked much of the Appalachian Trail.)
ReplyDeleteomg did you get rid of discus....yipee!
ReplyDeleteglad you had a good hike after that i love hiking!
oh man for a second there disqus did not show up and i was getting excited...smiles...
ReplyDeletei am glad you had a good hike after the scary one...would love to hike out that way someday
I'll take it you're not a fan of disqus.
ReplyDeletei love happy endings!! Am also recommending a long slow walk on a soft warm beach. that's hiking...right? happy Wednesday!
ReplyDelete"After all, he could have walked out of the desert without any problem. I was the one in need of rescue." This is funny!
ReplyDeleteYou have sweet friends that really care about you.
Now I want you to go hiking again! I want more stories!
I enjoyed this closure to the story. What a tale.
ReplyDeleteGlad that it all turned out okay. I like hiking some of the trails around here. But the beach is my favorite place to walk.
ReplyDelete