D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
February 2010
The Trivial, Adventurous and Plain Stupid
Go ahead and try it — or maybe not.
Have you ever wanted to do something trivial, adventurous or just plain stupid, just because it was there to do, or because you've always wanted to?
After all, we go around only once in this life and yesterday's chances are gone forever, except in our own minds. And the older I get, the more regrets that I have, and those memories of yesterday don't seem as fresh.
Recently I had the opportunity to try something that I've always wondered what it would be like to do, and what would be the effects. Fortunately, I had two buddies who tried it with me, so I'm not the only crazy person.
I've always admired the toughness and heartiness of the mountain men of the 19th century; that admiration came about after watching the movie Jeremiah Johnson, way back along about 1972. I marveled that those hearty souls could wade up and down creeks and rivers wearing only thin, leather moccasins and using bare hands to probe icy depths in the middle of the harshest winter. What would that be like?
Well, I decided to try it! So on one frigid December morning, with the temperature kissing 24 degrees, I wore rubber sandals instead of moccasins on my bare feet. I did roll up my legs of my Levi's, so not to have frozen pantlegs when I got out of the river!
I just walked up and sucked my breath in and plunged into the knee-deep current of the Gila River. The trick here was to steel my mind that it wasn't really cold, and it turned out, to my surprise, that it worked! Actually, I would describe the feeling as rather exhilarating!
Not only did I wade into the river and through it once, but I did the deed twice! Truth be told, the second time was much worse, and I do believe that was because I knew what I was in for by then. Because of that fact, it took my feet a rather long time to warm up after that second time through — over an hour with the heater in our vehicle running full blast!
Now, this act didn't exactly shake up history; all it did was leave me with the satisfaction that I had finally tried it.
This brings up the idea that there are other things I'd like to try, but I honestly don't know if I will get up the gumption to do so.
One is to dip my bare fingers into a wild hive of honeybees and come out with their precious product. After all, bears do it quite regularly. Never mind the myriad of stings that would occur! Maybe the hive would even be high up in the hollow of a tall, gnarled oak tree and I'd have to climb it. Nope!
Speaking of climbing tall trees, have you ever had the desire to climb the tallest one around, simply to see the view? I have, but there again is that strange critter known as fear-of-heights to prevent me from doing so.
That fear of heights also prevents me from scaling cliffs or descending from them too, even though I think it would be great fun. After all, I get the "heebies" when I get above the third rung of a stepladder! But I purely do admire all of you folks who do accomplish such feats!
That brings me to the ultimate height feat: This involves flying very low over the Gila or Leopold wilderness or the vast desert plains of the Bootheel, just to eyeball it and all of the wonders.
Trouble is, I don't know of one pilot I would entrust myself to such a feat. It's not that I'm afraid of flying; I'm afraid of falling!
On my trip to Alaska to hunt a variety of critters, I had to fly in the notorious bush plane with the equally notorious bush pilot. It was great fun looking down upon huge feeding brown bears and vast amounts of tundra, but at the same time, I was praying furiously for God to put and keep His angels all around that plane — especially under it!
Sadly, while I was on my hunt, my outfitter's good friend did fly into the side of a mountain, killing himself and his clients. That sure didn't help my peace of mind! So no thank you to the local trip.
I've also wondered if I had the guts to wander off into our local wildernesses with nothing but a knife and make it on my own for a week. Could I come out and be the better for it? Come to think of it, I don't know of anyone who has done that feat, except for those who got themselves hopelessly lost, and got found before they died, but they didn't intend to do it, and physically, they were in very bad shape.
It's one thing to be an armchair survivalist and another to really accomplish the deed! Could I really do it, or for that matter, could you? Now please don't go off half-cocked and try it; I don't want your ill-health on my conscience! I'm just cogitatin' out loud.
I remember one warm spring day during one of my many turkey hunts, when I decided to try the local fauna to see what it tasted like. I ate wild vegetation that day, and that was really stupid, because I coulda gotten poisoned! I had no idea what was edible and what was not. I'll tell you a secret: Some of the most beautiful of posies had the most gosh-awful taste!
And to do the native water-thingy without a purifier bottle or tablets or some way to boil it is just plain crazy! I did a study and attendant column many years ago on the streambeds of the Southwest; I found that virtually all of them, including the dry ones, are totally contaminated with cattle giardia. To drink raw water from one would bring on dire consequences in the form of the "running gungies" and other distresses. Cattle giardia is one nasty little protozoa. So please don't be a romantic when it comes to drinking Ma Nature's bounties.
Let's face it. At the ripe age of 65 (next month), it just ain't gonna happen — none of it! To be truthful, I'm out-of-shape and non-ambitious these days. Others, who have gone before me, said this would happen, but I didn't believe them — not until now.
So I'm really glad I and my buddies tried the wading thing, before I got chicken to do that, too.
Over the years I've related to readers how my favorite book was a novel called Mountain Man by Vardis Fischer; that book was the inspiration for the movie, Jeremiah Johnson. My favorite passage is where the hero is riding with his Indian bride and they are in a terrific summer thunderstorm of immense proportions. Since leather-wear shrinks with soaking, the two took off their clothes and rode into the storm, naked upon their horses. As the hero rode along, he lifted his hands to the sky and sang operas at the top of his lungs, to the amazement of his young bride. What a great mind picture that is!
Now, that still sounds like a mighty interesting adventure on some future summer day, even if I don't have a horse. Who knows?
Keep the sun forever at your back, the wind forever in your face, and may the Forever God bless you too!
When not ramblin' outdoors, columnist Larry Lightner lives in Silver City.