What an amazing three day weekend. I can barely walk down stairs, my eyes are but narrow slits because of the lack of sleep, and my every foible and weakness has been ridiculed; still it's all worth it, every pain and ache, every bit of tiredness, and every personal dig.
Saturday I left for Great Basin National Park with three friends from our book club. I can't think of three better guys--honest, spiritual, yet comfortable being Men. That is eager to engage in the not-so-secret arts of manhood--cutting sarcasm and one-ups-manship, good old junior high grossness, and frank discussion about life and sex. Doesn't get any better in my book.
Saturday morning we mountain biked in the desert; then we ascended to 10,000 ft to set up camp at Wheeler Peak campground. That evening we hiked to the glacier on the east side of Wheeler Peak. The anomaly of snow in the summer makes me giddy and “skiing” down was par excellance.
Sunday we hiked Wheeler Peak (13,063 ft)—from 10k to 13k in three miles, the last mile of rock nearly going straight up into the sky. On the way home we stopped for the second time at one of the three restaurants in Baker and the only one open on Sunday—T and D’s. You can only imagine the fun with had with that name.
I got home at about 9pm and immediately started preparing for my next manly activity (I know, females do it too but it's still different)6:15 am departure to Wasatch Blvd where I was to meet Aaron for a kick in the ass hill workout. I thought about bailing--so exhausted--but didn't want to be a wimp. Our plan was to climb two or three (I was always thinking two) SLC canyons. My plan after 10 minutes of riding on my sorry ass tired sore legs (Wheeler Peak was less than 24 hrs old) was to turn around and go back home to my bed. Fortunately the soreness dissipated.
First we climbed Little Cottonwood canyon, a full hour plus of climbing. What a beautiful canyon, what an exhilarating descent: 40-50+ mph all the way with few cars. Next we took on Big Cottonwood, another hour and half of climbing, much tougher of course, with lactic acid from LCC already in our legs and the temperature reaching into the 90s. My legs cracked at Solitude but I finished it out even though Aaron had become a small red dot ahead of me (Aaron once climbed these two plus Millcreek in 6 hrs). To put it mildly the descent sucked—I could barely manage to get into an aggressive downhill stance for a few minutes at a time. All I wanted was to survive. Thank God Aaron waited for me at the bottom and shepherded (i.e. I hugged his wheel and never let go) me back along Wasatch blvd over the last 5 or so miles.
All in all: 64.60 miles in 4:41, average speed: 13.8, max speed: 51.3, approx. elevation gain: 6'000 ft. I sure love being able to measure out, to the tenth, second and foot, the day’s activities—sometimes meaning can be fastidiously calculated and stamped into reality. Long live concrete tangible, male-like, goals.
If I can have a weekend like this every few years for the rest of my life, I think I can pull through to the End and maybe even do some of it with a smile on my face. It's a good day to be a Man.
4 comments:
Shit, Counterintuitive. In my Man World (it must be capitalized) we go into the woods and drink beer. But that's just me.
Later, we organize our desks and closets and discuss the higher principles of organiztion, all while thumping our hairy chests. You know, Iron John stuff.
I cannot comment on the manliness aspect of your post--I've thought about it and failed to come up with anything. However, I do endorse hanging around with friends doing whatever. Shopping, going to movies, watching Sex and the City reruns, talking, going to museums, in the case of my last few days with my best friend.
Mormon equivalent to beer: uninhibited consumption of Mt. Dew.
no comment on maniliness? Come on--there must at least be a feminist criticism or two.
We'll get Judith Butler to weigh in on your essentialist account of manliness.
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