Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Round 5: The Story (The Defining Year - Part II)


If you missed Part I of this story, feel free to read it by clicking here.   



"Men go back to the mountains, as they go back to sailing ships at sea, because in the mountains and on the sea they must face up, as did men of another age, to the challenge of nature. Modern man lives in a highly synthetic kind of existence. He specializes in this and that. Rarely does he test all his powers or find himself whole. But in the hills and on the water the character of a man comes out."
                                                        ~Abram T. Collier~

   

   As the summer of 2007 flowed along I began to gain a bit of clarity about the direction I wanted to drive my future.  I was heartbroken that I needed to start thinking about where I was going to take my life without Marcelle, but she was gone.  I wasn't left with much of a choice in that decision.  My "career" as a Case Manager was rolling along and my case files had narrowed to focusing on working with male teenage youth with behavioral and emotional problems as a result of severe sexual trauma during childhood.............the job was heavy to say the least, and I had to learn quickly how to detach myself emotionally and personally from my work.  After reading Case Files and the history's of abuse I will say this.....................there are some truly evil and terrible people in this world and they have no business walking this earth as human beings.  That is all I have to say about that.  
   My strength in my career was the connection and trust I was able to develop with my clients.  One of my biggest attributes to my job was my love and knowledge of outdoor recreation.  My job offered me the ability to develop my own therapeutic plans, and I always incorporated outdoor recreation of some sort into every clients weekly schedule, because the outdoors is healthy for everyone.............well, except for albino's.  They should stay out of the sun, but I didn't have any albino clients so it was cool.  My backyard was Pisgah National Forest and Dupont State Forest, so needless to say I had a vast amount of territory to explore during work hours.  One of my most beloved hikes to take clients on was the hike in to see the Green Narrows.  If you have never experienced this hike, it is simple to describe................

   "A nice leisurely to moderate 30 minute walk down into the Green Rivah Gamelands, following a beautiful cascading creek along the way, deep in a thick, hardwood forest.  After a mile and a half, the trail drops away, 1000 feet straight down to the gorge floor, and the inner guts of the Green Rivah Narrows reveal themselves.  Once to the bottom, a vigorous quarter mile trail takes you to Gorilla, the heart of the entire gorge."



Deep in the heart of the gorge, below Sunshine

   
The Monster Mile at a not so runnable flow........800%

   My logic and planning of this hike always held a deeper therapeutic value.  My clients were male teenagers, also known as the laziest human beings alive.  The trail is deceptive because it is an out and back hike.  As we descended into the constricted gash that rested on the southern side of the WNC plateau, full of energy and anticipation, I would conveniently forget to remind them that they would also need to hike out everything they were hiking in.  This revelation would usually dawn on them about the time I would say, "ok, time to head back up."  Then they would look at me and say, "You mean we gotta go back up that?"...............this question ranks right up there with the famous custy question, "Do we take out the same place we put in?"....................to answer that question for all those trying to figure it out right now.  "Yes.  The rivah goes in a circle."
   The hike out of the gorge is straight up, loose, and brutal as hell.  It can be accomplished in 10 minutes or an hour, depending on your level of fitness and will to just get it over with.  But the one thing that is true for all is that the only way out is up.  And it's going to hurt....................needless to say I put my skills as a role model and the foundation of trust I had built on the line in this "initiation" of sorts, and dealt with many different scenarios on the side of that damn mountain.  I witnessed emotional breakdowns, fits of anger, sheer and vile hatred toward me, threats of violence (which was never an actuality because they were too tired to strike out), and finally and most uniquely, one kid laid at the top of the trail for an hour, just staring at the sky. To this day that kid is convinced he suffered a heart attack. (They still all performed better than the Fourteenth Street Whore.  She whined like a little bitch the entire way up the mountain......seriously, it was pathetic.)  Every one of those little bastards made it though.  And once they did a level of respect developed between us, because I may have propelled them past their point of comfort, but I was right there beside them, and believed they could do it every step of the way.  I don't think that was something many of those boys had experienced before, and I will always be truly grateful for the experiences I created for them and for myself.  We gained respect for each other on those days, and I am sure it is a memory that will stay with them as firmly as it does with me.


“Being a role model is the most powerful form of educating...too often fathers neglect it because they get so caught up in making a living they forget to make a life.” 
                                                                                    ~John Wooden~

Quotes like that always remind me of the one thing I never really forget.


   When you do the right thing, and are awarded the creative freedom to pursue your passions as a therapeutic tool, productive things tend to happen.  The office started to show curiosity towards the hikes I took the boys on after the parents complemented my work on a consistent basis. (I also think they wanted to see exactly what I was doing for safety reasons.  No worries.  I was confident, and realized that there is always a sense of hesitation when introducing something new.)  The boys began to take their positive experiences home, which suggested that my work on the side of that damn mountain was paying off..............and thank God for that, because coaxing some of those boys out of that gorge was no easy task.  There were a few times I thought we might be sleeping out there.  I explained the process to my superiors and requested that I be allowed to test some of the higher level clients on more advanced outdoor activities.  Not only did they agree, but other Case Managers began bringing their own clients on hikes with me.  (which sometimes resulted in the clients almost killing each other, but you know what they say........you can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs.)  Before I knew it, the basic foundation of the dream I had created earlier that summer was now right at my doorstep, and in all honesty, I sort of fell in to it................I would say Island Magic here, but we are about 6 years too early.  I had developed my very first Outdoor Program.
   In the late summer of 2007 I embarked on my first professional kayaking trip by renting a duckie for a client at the NOC and navigating him down the Nantahala Rivah.................this was a very illustrious day for me, and foreshadowing of a unique and admirable opportunity that would come my way in the not so distant future of these memoirs.  The duckie trip was a celebrated achievement, and I even allowed my client to try out my kayak, which was not so much of a celebrated achievement.  I not only spent the remainder of my summer tromping through the woods, paddling down whitewater puzzles, and climbing out of deep gorges on my off days; I now spent EVERY day doing exactly that.  Life was moving forward..................and my heart was beginning to heal.


“You can love someone so much...But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.”
                                                                   ~John Green~


   Marcelle and I communicated frequently throughout the summer, but she never came to the house.  I always traveled to visit her.   Then one warm sunny afternoon in August she called me and told me she was in Mills River, just down the highway from our place, and wanted to know if she could come by.  She sounded cheerful and positive and I was excited to see her.  When she arrived I quickly concluded that she looked different.  It only took a second for me to realize she had altered her hair, which is something she had never done before.  I liked it, but I liked the way Celle was naturally as well.  That is one of the things I loved about Celle.  When she woke up she was just as beautiful as she always was................I can tell you from experience that is not always the case with a woman, but Marcelle was just that, naturally beautiful.  
   It is also my conclusion from multiple experiences in my past that when a woman alters her hair in a drastic way, it usually means she is going through a form of emotional or psychological discovery.............I am not even going to begin to try and figure it out.  But something is going on..........that I am sure of.  In this case, with a woman as passionate and colorfully creative as Marcelle, whatever it was was going to be big.  She greeted me with a hug and a kiss and came right in...................I was happy.  Marcelle had come home.
   We sat and talked and she told me she wanted to come back to the house but needed to modify some things about her life and needed one great adventure before the next chapter began.  She explained that she wanted to quite her job, sell her truck, and take a trip through Africa for six months............ok?  Then she informed me that when she returned she did not want to continue to live in Western North Carolina.  She explained that there were to many white people and not enough diversity, as well as an unbelievable amount of racism and narrow minded religious thinking.  (unfortunately this was all true.  We were not religious, but there were many local Western North Carolinians who felt the need to tells that we should be.  There were also rumors of active KKK's in many of the small towns.......WTF?)  She told me that she loved me and wanted to be with me but she knew how much I loved the mountains, and would support me if I made the decision to stay.  Then she told me that I needed to take some time to mull over my decision.  She had scheduled to depart on her trip in January of 2008.............needless to say this turned out to be a pretty heavy afternoon for me.  Looks like I had a little pondering to do.  I couldn't think of a better place to do it than on a rivah.


"The fact that you cannot kiss your elbow is enough to make you realize that some things seem so close, yet they are beyond your reach."
                                                                   ~Anonymous~  


   You just tried to kiss your elbow, didn't you?....................Summer rolled into Fall and our quaint little life fell back into a rhythm and routine.  We seemed to have developed a new appreciation for one another and our relationship was healthy and lively.  Marcelle continued her 3 and 4 day work weeks on trail, and I continued to expand my paddling capabilities crick by crick, and rivah by rivah.  As I embarked on each mission, a decision weighed heavily on my mind.  Would I stay, or would I go? 
    During my tenure at the Mental Health Agency, I spent a majority of my time traveling from school to school.  I met many teachers along the way, including a regular Green boater, who after multiple attempts to convince him of my skill, finally agreed to lead me down the Narrows...................so on a cold October morning close to Green Race time, I pulled my boat down to the waters edge, and slid my kayak into the Upper Green with my guide and a rookie boater embarking on his first Upper trip.  We set out with the intention of not stopping until we hit Fishtops.



Some of what lies between the put-in and the take-out.

   The trip was as mysterious, enchanting, and as magical as every Narrows boaters first time experience could be when running the Green Rivah Narrows.  Although I had descended into the gorge many times over the years by foot, entering it from above by boat was a truly euphoric adventure.  I doubt I am alone in sharing the following sentiment.....................the first time you descend the Green Rivah Narrows is an experience that can never be replicated again.  It truly is a one of a kind memory.
   Although my nerves were a bit shot after slipping through Frankenstein, styling the boof at Zwicks, and bombing Rapid Transit, when the end came all I could think about was getting back out and doing it again..................I literally obsessed about it non stop for the next week.  I was in another world.  It was as if I was suffering from Narrows fever, and the only cure was another run.  I was awarded that second run soon after, and then another, and then another.  In fact I received six helpings of the Green throughout the the Fall of that year................when I finished that sixth lap in early November, if you had told me it would be over four years before I had the opportunity to return to that mythical rivah, I would have told you that was absurd.................but in fact, that was the reality of my Narrows future.

Boofing Frankenstein on a perfect day

   I had envisioned monumental goals for myself and my kayaking career after that first run down the Green..............weekend laps on multiple higher water levels, knocking out the Big Three within a year, developing a core group of Dirt Bag gradient seekers to watch my back and experience the uniqueness that is the Green River Gorge as one cohesive unit.  I envisioned myself training for the Green Race and boofing into the greatest show on earth in my moment of whitewater perfection....................I conceptualized all of these things in my mind for the future, and I anticipated that Marcelle would be right there beside me.  The fact that those Green runs never happened is still one of the most heartbreaking lost dreams I will ever have.  Whenever I think about my brief tenure in the history that is the Green, a certain movie scene always resonates in my mind.............................................

    

        I was given the chance to paddle out into our whitewater ball field, and I was given my opportunity to kayak in the big leagues.  For that, I will always be grateful, even if it was just for a moment.  Moonlight Graham said it best, and for so long, up until I lost my children, my one wish was this........................

   "I would have liked to have boofed Gorilla on Race Day..........just once.  To have the chance to stare down the notch, lining up my boat for that one perfect angle, and squeeze through as the hoards screamed for an epic beat down, propelling me around the corner and onto the horizon line ahead.  Then as I shift my weight forward, dip my paddle blade into the water, and pull that ever so perfect golden stroke, launching me out and over the shoulders of the greatest whitewater gorilla on earth, I would look up, and for that one split second, as the whitewater world turned their eyes upon me, I would experience perfection in the sport that truly fills my soul.  That would have been my one wish."



Spanking the Monkey on the Narrows

   Some dreams were never meant to be fulfilled....................and that's passable, because the dream that took it's place was the most valuable dream a man could ever have.  Stay tuned, because the conclusion of this story is not far off.


"It's like coming this close to your dreams, and then watching them brush past like a stranger in a crowd."
                                               ~Moonlight Graham~


See ya on the rivah..................hopefully boofing into your next whitewater dream.   PEACE

 
 Click here to continue the story.........................Part III of The Defining Year