Psychos and Thistles and Bears, Oh My!

Danger lurks around every corner in the wild. When you hike alone, the bear doesn’t have to choose, so nature takes its course smoothly. When you factor in other hikers, lyle-cherry12-7-29-12the proverbial can of worms becomes a bucket of electric eels…especially if they want to bring their psycho kid along, which the bear will love, by the way.

I used to have this hiking buddy. His wife worked with behaviorally disordered children, which makes this tale all the more Damian in its scope. His daughter was a sociopath. Seriously, I ticked off the list of psychological characteristics: Cold, calculating, lacking empathy–the little succubus had nearly every one of them, she just hadn’t gotten around to skewering family pets yet. The parents lyle-cherry15-7-29-12were unaware. To them, she was “willful” and “self-actualized” and how dare I squelch her Girl Power at such a young age?

To watch this ten-year-old work the adults around her was to see a budding Fox News reporter spread her little wings and fly. She would lock a chilling gaze on her victim and deliver a line meant to probe, wound, and dishevel, all at once, and she knew how to single out the introverts for their lack of sparring skills. People squirmed in her presence, other kids gave her a wide berth. People did that thing where they claimed to feel sorry for her but sat at the other end of the table, anyway.

Death came on swift wings to my hiking relationship with her father. After years of successfully dodging the dreaded Family Hike, I finally caved and joined him, Nurse lyle-cherry14-7-29-12Ratched, and Miss Damian. I skillfully avoided the demon all day until we sat down to lunch and the little shit lit into me with inappropriate questions with all the ferocity of Robert Shapiro on Red Bull. Mommy and Daddy gazed at us silently and chewed, looking relieved to be out of the line of fire. Before long, I’d had enough. I set up a Berlin Wall of boundaries with the imp and was promptly abused for my efforts.

“You’re obviously just not comfortable around children.”

Oh, yes. Eighteen years of experience with YMCA from camper to counselor, youngest senior counselor ever hired at YMCA of the Rockies, Camp Chief Ouray, and favorite among kids there (my cosplay was legendary), first Program Director for the children’s Latchkey Program at my university, self-employed at 16 as a children’s birthday party coordinator, babysitter to dozens. Yep, children are icky.

lyle-cherry13-7-29-12The pivotal moment came when Rosemary’s Baby needed to pee. Bathroom breaks on the trail are self-explanatory pauses of silence and discretion among hikers. Not today. She walked a few feet off the trail, removed all her clothes from the waist down–yes, you read that right–squatted in full view of everyone, and then calmly got dressed again while disturbed hikers tried to pass us with their eyes nailed to the sky. If anyone glanced at her, she shot them a look that could solder lead and then complained to her mother how creepy people were. Mind you, this was a kid whose puberty fairy had visited her early. You may commence squirming in your seat…now.

My hiking buddy got divorced a year or two later.

Demon spawn are not the only threat to life and limb on the trail, there are other dangers, emergency room dangers. Cougars, hailstorms, hillbillies, forgetting to bring your wine corkscrew–it’s imperative that you have a survival plan. Normally, I’m like a Boy Scout in a bra, stacked and always prepared, but one warm day I decided to travel light.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI’d been hearing much about the Lyle Cherry Orchard Trail on the weekend warrior grapevine. It’s remote, they said. There’s cherry trees, they said. Unpopulated AND fruit? Where are my car keys? But they neglected to mention the unique tortures this trail had in store.

The views were pretty tasty, I’ll give them that. After a relatively short stream of expletives up the initial switchbacks, I found places to pause and take in the Columbia River while a stiff wind had its way with me. The wind knows what I like.lyle-cherry2-7-29-12Whitecaps = Good hiking + Bad hair day.lyle-cherry19-7-29-12And there was all the romance of Convict Road. The industrial magnate Sam Hill busted it out using prisoners in 1910 as a demonstration to convince Washington legislators to fund a highway all the way up the river to his bizarre estate in Maryhill. lyle-cherry17-7-29-12When Washington told him to go suck a thumb, he ousted their governor, wooed the monopoly_man2entire Oregon legislature with trips and food, and quickly got the Beaver State to build the Historic Columbia River Highway on the other side of the river. To this day, it’s the only thing I will begrudgingly admit I’m thankful to a Republican for because when you’re in a hurry to drive upstream, Oregon rules and Washington drools.

The remains of Hill’s original vision crumble a little more every year into the bottom of the gorge but if your personality test scores are Acrophobia: 0, Curiosity: 99, you can have a grand ol’ time trying to traverse it, anyway.lyle-cherry18-7-29-12adjustedlyle-cherry6-7-29-12See the railroad down there? That’s where your body parts will finally come to rest if you screw this up. Happy trails!lyle-cherry5-7-29-12lyle-cherry4-7-29-12adjusted

I relaxed when I saw the meadow open up around me at the top. Flat trail! Open space!

Bloody agony.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAYellow Starthistle is described as a highly aggressive noxious weed. That means it takes over places and poisons livestock. What they leave out is how it lunges at human flesh like a maniacal seam ripper. In just a few steps, I was flinching. A few more, and the blood came. I felt like I was wading through a kiddie pool of scorpions five hundred yards long. The shit was everywhere, there was no circumventing it, and I wasn’t even half way to the cherry holy land.lyle-cherry22-7-29-12Remember how I said I packed light for this hike? Yeah, well, I was only in the sheerest of summer zip-off hiking pants, the type designed for maximum ventilation and minimal protection. They had all the impact of a bell in a bear country. Meanwhile, the bullet-proof Cordura nylon gaiters sitting at home in the closet were becoming more valuable than pepper spray at a Trump rally with each successive step.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….lyle-cherry21-7-29-12

(When I got home that night, I actually squeezed blood out of my pant legs. I bring gaiters with me everywhere, now. And Agent Orange in a squirt bottle.)

Wildlife distracted me from the electric pain of sweat dripping down my shredded shins. Fence lizard didn’t give one scaly damn.lyle-cherry23-7-29-12Large jumping spider wasn’t all that impressed, either.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERACedar waxwing tried to be interested, but the wind was messing with his cool.lyle-cherry24-7-29-12The gently undulating hills of a white oak forest at the very top brought shade and a reprieve from Mother Nature’s Stairmaster. This route is described as “Challenging” by popular hiking websites. That’s Latin for “guilt-free junk food tonight.” I think it also means “beer” in Greek.lyle-cherry25-7-29-12lyle-cherry26-7-29-12Those hiking sites said the cherry trees were at the edge of a large field….

Oh, thank god.lyle-cherry27-7-29-12End of the bloody, sweaty line.lyle-cherry28-7-29-12That’s a cherry tree, alright, now where’s my pie? Damned waxwings.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI announced lunch to the wind and took a nap in the grass afterwards. Then I sat up, packed up, and absorbed the magnificent view one last time. lyle-cherry30-7-29-12But something wasn’t quite right. A soul-crushing dread was creeping in from the edges of my consciousness. I started to sweat again and my heart rate took off like a Weimaraner after a squirrel. Then, it hit me, a horror so traumatizing that I had to visualize heroin and Girl Scout Cookies happy things to regain my inner peace and equilibrium:the_one_hiding_under_your_bed_by_boredmanI still had to walk through all those Yellow Starthistles again on the way back down.

July 12, 2012

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45 thoughts on “Psychos and Thistles and Bears, Oh My!

  1. Star thistle or Rosemary’s baby? Star thistle hands down. Yep, I’ll take a plant that can shoot roots 20 feet into the ground and has seeds that are viable for up to a century. I can weed whack them down, pull them up, and even poison them, with pleasure— none of which can I do with Rosemary’s ungrateful spawn. 🙂 –Curt

    • Well, thank you very much, sir. Now I’m gonna have nightmares WEEKS after Halloween is over.

      PS: A weed whacker would have come in handy on the Addams Family Hike with psycho girl. Next time.

      • Star thistle and I are in a constant state of war on our property. But, and this is good news… there is a lot less of it than when I started. And I feel good about everyone of the buggers I have done in! 🙂 But I do empathize… I’ve had to walk through fields of it as well. Ouch. 🙂 C

  2. Hilarious if painful account of the reality of hiking, but it did provide some stunning photos. 🙂
    And sadly, I know someone exactly like the demon girl you describe so well. We all keep our considerable distance!

    • I told myself: “This blog will be 100% positive! I’ll only focus on the good in everything and everybody! My stories will be a thousand daisies shooting out of my ass each and every day!”

      Then, I reviewed my photographs and the memories started flooding back. Snark became therapeutic.

  3. Your blog is fabulous, from your brilliant text to the photos! Once while hiking in a serene forest to soothe my weary soul, I heard blood-curdling screams. They got closer and closer–a little girl screeching for fun. I’m all for a space to use one’s outdoors voice, but this was ridiculous. When I said I was out here for peace and quiet, the kid’s mother encouraged her to screech louder. I screeched back, until the kid and I were in a screeching match, she turning around ahead of me until she was out of sight to get in the last screech. She and Damian would have been good company for each other.

    • Ah, yes, these are the moments in life when my Ritalin-in-a-dart-gun idea seems more plausible than far-fetched. It wouldn’t matter which one you hit, the breeder or its spawn.

      Actually, I just watched the new Star Trek movie the other day and I’m really warming up to the phasers-on-stun concept. Apple should get crackin’ on that.

      Meanwhile, next time scream “Bent Penis!” “Vaginal Warts!” or “Herpes Cream!” Any parent knows that their hideous offspring will plague them with questions about it for weeks afterwards and will be far more motivated to move along. Bonus points if you sing it in a nice jingle the kid can remember easily.

    • Most jumping spiders could comfortably relax on the top of a pencil eraser. Large Jumping Spiders look like they just ate ten regular jumping spiders. They’re the venti size on the jumping spider menu.

      Look at your thumbnail. That’s a Large Jumping Spider parking space.

  4. I hike so I know what can happen. As for that young girl …. she is heading for huge trouble. If those parents don’t do something now they are in for a lifetime of pain and agony. Really great write, one that I really enjoyed and yes laughed. Thank you! ❤

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