Thursday, August 12, 2010

Gannet Peak


Gannet Peak

From what I heard, it starts at the Lander's Bar. You pull in, careful to avoid the row of Harley's up front, and walk in the door. The sights are somewhat unusual. Cowboys dropping whiskey shots into their beers, hippies in the corner listening to whiskey river. Man, even a bunch of animals mounted up! Yes, it's unusual, but inviting and without pretense.

And then you see her. She's a real flower child, as authentic as the cowboys, but young, not one of these old, shriveled Woodstock veterans you've met before. She's lovely, lithe and spins her gypsy skirt to Willie Nelson on the jukebox.

You really don't drink that much (climbing's far more addicting anyway), but you're here, so you might as well have a pitcher. None of the cowboys have asked you to join a cattle drive yet, which is a slight hit to your ego.

Soon enough the girl with the flowers in her hair is sitting beside you.

"You're not from here are you?"
"No I'm not" you say as she helps herself to a glass.
"Well, what're you here for?"

And this is the question, what are you here for?

You're here to get drunk, sleep in your car and drive another hour to a trailhead. to shoulder a pack and skis and ropes, and to hike 20 miles. You're here to cross swollen rivers, yawning glaciers and thick second-growth. You're here to go alone, up Gannet Peak, the highest point in Wyoming. And then you're going to walk for as long as you can without getting altogether too close to other people.

And if you're lucky, you'll have enough foolishly dangerous, but exhilarating experiences to last at least another year.

You've entertained the possibility of going in circles too. No, I think there might be a road ahead, well, obviously I should go back the way I came.

What? Another road, well I only saw the other one two days ago, how strange.

You'd like to romanticize this, say that it'll make you realize some grand and epochal truth. But honestly, that might be asking too much. You're young and wild and want to prove that you're a bad ass.

And the girl? Well, the girl is about to excuse herself and hug her boyfriend, some NOLS instructor. The flirting? Well, some hippies will do anything for free beer. You should know this, because you're probably going to ditch the bill for this pitcher anyway.

You're just another Dharma Bum after all.

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