Today, I knew it was time to part with Elbio. Our time together had ended. We hitched back to Escalante, met a guy who was a trail Angel and offered us to come to his off the grid ranch in Canonville.
“It’s free for Haydukers,” he said.
I was all in! I didn’t need a zero day but I loved to take these opportunities when they presented themselves.
“I’ll be back,” I said.
I grabbed my items in Escalante then asked Elbio if he wanted to take me out to Zebra Slot as I really wanted to see those tight slot canyons Utah was known for.
“Not a good idea after all the rain overnight,” he said.
I looked around, everything appeared totally dry. “I don’t even think it rained last night,” I said.
I took it as he didn’t want to spend any more time with me so I did what I did best—leave. He offered to drive me all the way back to Canonville. I said okay even though I felt off. Probably the same for him, it seemed as if I was just not meant to be with people for an extended period of time. I noticed how easily annoyed/frustrated I became after I had sex with a guy and spent time with him after the fact.
I felt as if we were not compatible, either. We had opposite beliefs about politics, religion, relationships, everything, yet I never really gave a shit about any of that. I never really cared if I had clashing opinions with people. That was part of this parody of life. When I heard Elbio say that all respect would be lost if people thought a different way or moved through life in a manner opposite of his, I suddenly found it hard to be around him. I didn’t feel as if I could be myself knowing I might speak up and get put down.
Why were the men I met so intense? Was it because I was attracted to that intensity sexually?
I didn’t feel inspired hanging around men that raised their tones, flipped cars off that didn’t give them a ride or the vibe that they wanted to stir up unnecessary drama. It was a very challenging energy for me to be around.
There’s all this pain and fear I sense in people, lately about the upcoming election and Russia apparently about to attack my country. I honestly don’t give two shits because I recognize it is not real and it is not serious like that. Secondly, I wasn’t even aware of these things apparently occurring because I don’t focus my attention on news/media that intentionally attempts to strike a fearful energy.
People are telling me I need to fight for my people, to fight for my opinion and country… but I don’t want to. I already did that during Covid and it just brought about more stress/anger towards my community. I’m sick of fighting.
What would happen if I just allowed myself to relax and let it all happen as it should?
What if I allowed the ways of the world to wash over me, in calm recognition that it didn’t have to strike such sharp pain?
The beliefs we hold are a fragile thing to depend on. Our opinions don’t make up Who We Really Are. We are behind the screen of what we apparently sense through this ‘body.’ I couldn’t see it any other way. It was just obvious it was all funny to me, no matter what the perception was bringing forth.
Why weren’t the people in my perception laughing along with me? Did I need them to be laughing for me to see through the world even further? Something tells me no.
Anyways, I attempted to figure out my route from Canonville since I wouldn’t be doing the Grand Canyon section, not without having someone by my side. I planned out a loose itinerary of all the people I would hitchhike to and visit after I finished Bryce.
Elbio seemed to get triggered by how I moved around on trail, stating his opinion by letting me know I wasn’t thru-hiking.
“If you stuck to a straight line you wouldn’t have to go through all of this ‘pain in the ass’ planning,” he said.
“I think you’re misunderstanding,” I started, “it’s not a ‘pain in the ass’ for me. This is how my mind works. It makes more sense to me and feels more calm versus staying on a direct path.”
I could sense how it was not computing for him, even how I didn’t plan my mileage much nor look up the weather, instead relying on what the locals told me.
“I’ll just take some alternates to get to Zion,” I said.
“Just remember,” he said, “doing alternates on the trail isn’t really hiking it. It’s the same as yellow-blazing.”
I placed my hand on his thigh, signaling for him to please stop talking. I’ve been hearing it every day since hiking with him that alternates leading to the same place was not the same as hiking the trail. I, however, viewed it similar to the CDT and that it was a ‘pick your own adventure.’ Especially since I didn’t have the confidence for the Hayduke yet, I didn’t like to feel as if I was less than something because of choosing an alternate here and there.
At first I kept reminding him that we all have different things that scare us. The Hayduke humbled me in a way that taught me never to be like this with someone on their first thru or even a day hike they found difficult because in truth, to them, it could be the hardest thing they’ve ever done. It’s important not to take that sense of pride away from them. It was hard for me to feel as if what I was feeling was irrelevant or an over exaggeration. I was proud of myself for having a very tough skin/mind but this route nearly broke me.
“You know,” Elbio started, “even the people who first did this route, I’m pretty sure they also hiked it with heavy ass packs and even without a rope.”
I met him with silence again. I wondered if men recognized when they were being assholes or if it was just hard wired for them. At this point, it felt as if he was really trying to make me feel like shit for not being able to do it. I silently reminded myself that he was just my mind relaying back what I had been telling myself in secret.
He dropped me off at the ranch, gave me a quick hug goodbye then left me with the owner of the property. It was only us two and it was clear the guy was drunk. He reeked of alcohol and was slurring his words.
“You want a drink?” he asked.
“I have a Dr. Pepper,” I said.
“I mean, would you like something more stiff?”
I didn’t know exactly what that meant but I assumed it was liquor. “No, thank you.”
He had given me a luxury spot for the night—his camper that he took to Mexico during the winter. I dropped my stuff, then we sat on the porch in his rocking chairs as he told me to enjoy the last bit of sunshine I would get. He kept staring deep into my eyes, telling me we all had demons we were dealing with. Then, he kept asking me the same questions about my life and it became clear he was not really there. I told him I was going to make ramen for dinner to which he expressed he wouldn’t allow it.
“You’re going to eat pizza,” he said. “I’m going to put you to work.”
I chopped up peppers while he grilled some chicken. Then I cooked up quinoa as a side dish. I ate enough for two and could have eaten more but I deeply appreciated what I received. As we were finishing up, he wanted to clarify and make it known that I was safe in his space. I felt my energy relax. I felt grateful he said that because I was used to men offering me a nice space only to break that boundary by trying to come visit me in the middle of the night.
We took his burros into a different area and fed them animal crackers. Then he showed me his rock collection, clearly addicted to collecting them. One was so big that it took him two days to retrieve. He showed me a tour of everything he built with his own two hands without a single use of machines. He even showed me the drainage system he made for when the monsoons rolled in.
“Give me your hand,” he said, then picked off some leaves from a sage brush. “Now rub your fingers together and smell it.” It always brought me back to the scene in the movie Wild when Reese Witherspoon had done that in the middle of the desert. Just the same as in the scene, it brought my mind into the present moment quietude.