I am not sure why, but this hike has a spot that reminds me of writers block. It has a place that I just can’t seem to get past. We will call it the bubble. All the hikes in this area always seem to turn around at this basic area, or continue up one of the forks instead or continuing down the main trail. My goal for this hike was to get father than I have gotten before, which I succeeded in doing. The main corridor has one big trail that is really the size of a road that is very trafficked by bicycles and then another trail that is small and intimate that mostly follows the creek and tucks in and out of lots of lovely places to sit and enjoy the creek.
I was just getting out of the bubble, and decided it was safe for me to stop and do some writing. I want to write an epic nature poem inspired by the writing of Mary Oliver. So, I decided that on my hikes that I want to pick inspiring places to read Mary Oliver poems and then work on writing some of my own. I started writing and then read a poem to the creek, and wrote some more. Then my bowels made themselves known. Oh no! I had to poop. This was a problem because 1. I didn’t bring toliet paper. 2. Even if I did, this area is more like a public park lately instead of the great outdoors. There are too many people for comfortable pooping. 3. WTF! I still hadn’t quite gotten out of the bubble.
I packed up and resolved to go for as long as I could. I feel like I can hold a poop for a few hours, so not all was lost. I followed the little trail to a bigger trail and walked for a bit to a fork in some other trails and behold there was an outhouse. Holy Holy! I always scoffed at these bathrooms 1 mile up a trail. Why is it there? But this time I quickly walked towards it excited. My body was like yes!! I went for the handle and …. fuck. it was locked. WHY PUT A FUCKING OUTHOUSE THAT FAR UP A TRAIL IF YOU AREN’T GOING TO KEEP IT OPEN AND MAINTAINED!!!! I still wasn’t out of the bubble! Luckily if I kept moving my body forgot about something else it wanted to move.
And I made. I did. I got out of the bubble entirely. Finally. I was hiking for a really long time on the main trail that is like a road. It is was dry and very far from the creek and really not my favorite trail. Finally I saw the smaller cooler trail that follows the creek and I threw caution to the wind and went off trail to get to it. I just really wanted to find another place by the creek to continue my writing . I finally found a place. It was perfect. It had a perfect sitting log right next to the creek and I was just starting to write when a man showed up. My bowels also showed up so it wasn’t just this guy that sent me back to the trail before I could get much of anything written. This was my turn around spot. I started heading back for the sake of my but, but I still was looking for another inspiring spot.
And I found one. I found a place that has a beautiful cliff face that hangs over the creek and was the place that I had made it to the only other time I had busted out of the bubble. Josh Wagner and Jorge and I had made it that far years ago. We all threw rock in there and generally enjoyed ourselves until the walk back when young Jorge he was maybe 4 or 5. Whined terribly because he was tired. He was only ok if we kicked pine cones down the trail. So for the majority of the trip back we kicked the damn pine cone. I remember hating it by the time we got back.
In this place I was just about to sit down and start writing when the same guy showed up. I decided to wait him out and we had a nice conversation about his dog and bears and then he left and let me get a little bit of writing done. When I would sit down to write is when my need to shit would be intolerable, so I didn’t linger and got back on the trail and didn’t stop until I got to my car.
I was glad to be on a hike alone. I love my hikes with other people, but there is a magic that you have a hard time seeing because it is eclipsed by the presence of the other person.