Yellow Aster Butte 8/20/15
It's been a while since I've written anything...not to say that life hasn't been misadventure-y, I just haven't had time to sit down and write. Well well, lucky for us all, I have some time today.
After too much work and not enough play, I finally had a full day off and was rested enough to get into the mountains. I loaded up the truck with running gear and Mango, and we zoomed on out the Mt Baker Highway towards Yellow Aster Butte. I've forgotten what a gong-show Hwy 542 can be, and found myself having to pass a family in a Cruise America RV and a Can-asian in a Prius. For the record, if you've never driven anything larger than a family sized SUV, do not rent a Cruise America RV and drive up and down the Mt Baker Highway. You're endangering yourself, your family, and everyone else.
Safely parked at the Yellow Aster Butte trailhead, I take the keys out of the ignition but don't open my door - gotta keep that music playing til I'm ready to disembark. The shoes go on, the snacks go in the bag. Maybe I should throw on another layer, I think to myself while pulling out a long sleeve shirt. Ultimately deciding to forgo the layering, I put the shirt back in my bag. Mango and I jump out of the truck, I lock the door using the button on the door, shut the door and begin to walk off. "Son of a b..." Fairly certain that I've just locked my keys in the truck, I rummage through my bag. No keys. Then I pull on the door handle. Decidedly locked. Then I peek into the window to see the keys resting on the center console.
In an attempt to console myself, I remember hearing Jason's voice that morning, "don't forget to take the GPS." Conveniently, I listened to him and put the GPS in my bag that morning. Out there, miles from a dead end highway which parallels the Canadian border, I turn on my GPS to send out a message. After a series of sad sounding beeps, the device tells me it is "Critically low on battery. Turn off to conserve for emergency." I imagine this is as serious of an emergency as I will ever have, so I type a quick note:
"Locked keys in truck. GPS batt low. Hehe. Will figure it out. Don't worry."
Evidently, 2% charge isn't enough to even send out an emergency message (thank goodness I wasn't having an emergency with dire consequences).
At this point my options were pretty minimal. Hitchhike to town from desolate trailhead - I could wait a long time. Leave now on foot and hitchhike to town - I could meet some weirdos, or worse, be abducted. Go for a hike and worry about my predicament later - best option yet. I throw the dead, useless GPS in my bag and Mango and I take off up the trail. We had two liters of water and plenty of snacks, whatever happens will happen.
So up and away we go, through steep-ish balmy trees and into the alpine. A father-son hunting pair let me pass by. "You're not going to spit on us," the dad asks after telling me that they were hunting bear for meat. Regardless of how I feel about what they are doing, good/bad/etc, there is no reason to throw any negativity out there. They'll keep hunting and I'll keep running. Live and let live - well, except for the bear who might not make it.
One has to wonder about how these things happen. Maybe it is a sign from the universe telling me suggestively: "Go, run. You don't need all that stuff." Maybe it is a sign from my subconscious telling me: "You're a mess. Pull yourself together, Krissy!" Who really knows. All I do know is that I haven't locked my keys in the car in about 7 years. The last time I did, I was working 70 hour weeks and trying to epic during my free time. Mentally tired? Most definitely. Space-cadet? I'm captain on the ISS.
High up in the alpine, in a cloud and amidst blueberries, my phone comes to life unexpectedly. I message Jason, giving him the Readers Digest version of my situation. Then I remember my fantastic friend named Hana. Maybe she could get into the house, get the spare keys, and come to my rescue! As luck would have it, she was just outside of town and was able to come out with the keys. That would give me about two hours to continue on my merry way, blissfully frolicking through the alpine.
We run back down to the truck with plenty of time to spare. As Hana and Sean were doing me a tremendous favor, I didn't want to make them wait for me at the trailhead.
Magically, we were able to hit up Grahams for a late lunch, and I made it to town in time to sail. We got second. Maybe this is, in fact, the universe telling me that I can somehow, miraculously, pull off some fairly goofy shenanigans...with the help of a few good friends of course. Without them I may still be walking to town, or worse.
After too much work and not enough play, I finally had a full day off and was rested enough to get into the mountains. I loaded up the truck with running gear and Mango, and we zoomed on out the Mt Baker Highway towards Yellow Aster Butte. I've forgotten what a gong-show Hwy 542 can be, and found myself having to pass a family in a Cruise America RV and a Can-asian in a Prius. For the record, if you've never driven anything larger than a family sized SUV, do not rent a Cruise America RV and drive up and down the Mt Baker Highway. You're endangering yourself, your family, and everyone else.
Safely parked at the Yellow Aster Butte trailhead, I take the keys out of the ignition but don't open my door - gotta keep that music playing til I'm ready to disembark. The shoes go on, the snacks go in the bag. Maybe I should throw on another layer, I think to myself while pulling out a long sleeve shirt. Ultimately deciding to forgo the layering, I put the shirt back in my bag. Mango and I jump out of the truck, I lock the door using the button on the door, shut the door and begin to walk off. "Son of a b..." Fairly certain that I've just locked my keys in the truck, I rummage through my bag. No keys. Then I pull on the door handle. Decidedly locked. Then I peek into the window to see the keys resting on the center console.
Turns out, there is something worse that being stuck behind a Cruise America...and it looks a lot like this.
In an attempt to console myself, I remember hearing Jason's voice that morning, "don't forget to take the GPS." Conveniently, I listened to him and put the GPS in my bag that morning. Out there, miles from a dead end highway which parallels the Canadian border, I turn on my GPS to send out a message. After a series of sad sounding beeps, the device tells me it is "Critically low on battery. Turn off to conserve for emergency." I imagine this is as serious of an emergency as I will ever have, so I type a quick note:
"Locked keys in truck. GPS batt low. Hehe. Will figure it out. Don't worry."
Evidently, 2% charge isn't enough to even send out an emergency message (thank goodness I wasn't having an emergency with dire consequences).
At this point my options were pretty minimal. Hitchhike to town from desolate trailhead - I could wait a long time. Leave now on foot and hitchhike to town - I could meet some weirdos, or worse, be abducted. Go for a hike and worry about my predicament later - best option yet. I throw the dead, useless GPS in my bag and Mango and I take off up the trail. We had two liters of water and plenty of snacks, whatever happens will happen.
I more often than not feel pretty lost in life, but right now without keys, GPS, and a plethora of things that got accidentally locked in the truck, things are quite alright.
So up and away we go, through steep-ish balmy trees and into the alpine. A father-son hunting pair let me pass by. "You're not going to spit on us," the dad asks after telling me that they were hunting bear for meat. Regardless of how I feel about what they are doing, good/bad/etc, there is no reason to throw any negativity out there. They'll keep hunting and I'll keep running. Live and let live - well, except for the bear who might not make it.
One has to wonder about how these things happen. Maybe it is a sign from the universe telling me suggestively: "Go, run. You don't need all that stuff." Maybe it is a sign from my subconscious telling me: "You're a mess. Pull yourself together, Krissy!" Who really knows. All I do know is that I haven't locked my keys in the car in about 7 years. The last time I did, I was working 70 hour weeks and trying to epic during my free time. Mentally tired? Most definitely. Space-cadet? I'm captain on the ISS.
The beautiful North Cascades!
Somewhere around here my phone beeped at me
High up in the alpine, in a cloud and amidst blueberries, my phone comes to life unexpectedly. I message Jason, giving him the Readers Digest version of my situation. Then I remember my fantastic friend named Hana. Maybe she could get into the house, get the spare keys, and come to my rescue! As luck would have it, she was just outside of town and was able to come out with the keys. That would give me about two hours to continue on my merry way, blissfully frolicking through the alpine.
Original plan: Summit peak followed by nap at tarn below
Actual day: Look at peak and tarn, then turn around
Mango. Unhappy to be turning around.
We run back down to the truck with plenty of time to spare. As Hana and Sean were doing me a tremendous favor, I didn't want to make them wait for me at the trailhead.
What do you mean, "we have no keys?!"
Hey Brooks, your Cascadia 10's fall apart
About time I get that nap
Magically, we were able to hit up Grahams for a late lunch, and I made it to town in time to sail. We got second. Maybe this is, in fact, the universe telling me that I can somehow, miraculously, pull off some fairly goofy shenanigans...with the help of a few good friends of course. Without them I may still be walking to town, or worse.
Comments
Post a Comment