Fear

Tri happiness 

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My first triathlon is two weeks away. Today was the first time that I put all three events (swimming, biking, and running) together.

I’ll admit I was pretty nervous. Paul loaded up all of my gear into his truck and drove me to the sailing club while I talked to him about all of my fears. He said that it would take a lot less time if I talked about what I wasn’t afraid of. Really this it what it is about for me, conquering my fears.

I stood at the edge of the water for a long time. Could I do it? I had to get my nerve. I never saw anyone swim at the sailing club before. Paul said not to swim near the boats because I could get electrocuted. Hhhhmmm, that wasn’t on my long list of fears…so I added it. I looked down at the algae encrusted rock that I decided to jump in from. I saw a very large fish swim away into the weeds. I heard loud bullfrogs croaking nearby. I felt like I might croak as well.

There were quite a few people at the club this morning. Could I face them again if I wimped out? After about 20 minutes, I finally jumped in. I swam a total of 1/3 of a mile near the buoys. Just to explain, I was swimming in a large body of water. On the way back, I freaked out a little. The waves were trying to push me beyond the buoys. I worried about riptides. I thought about the story I heard last week of someone drowning from a riptide. Or what if a sailboat was trying to go in or out of the harbor and I didn’t notice? Somehow I managed to get back without being eaten by a fish with teeth, giant turtles, or man eating bullfrogs. I did get swooped by a few birds though.

Then I did the transition from water to bike. I bought elastic shoelaces this week. I came up with the idea of putting them on my old running shoes. Worked great! I biked home. The first mile was over deserted back roads. I feared rabid crazed dogs chasing me. Or sexual predators. How I prayed not to be prey. The rest of the way home was on a busy county road that had narrow shoulders and deep ditches. Somehow I managed to not get hit by a car so it was a good day.

Then I went for a 3 mile run. I feel most confident with my running. As I was nearing the end, I noticed that a car stopped and parked on the road up ahead. Did I do all of this work just to get bumped off now? 

Somehow I survived and I am happy with how it went.

Letting go of a broken wing

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Yesterday as I was heading back to work after my lunch break, I noticed a peculiar sight. There was a robin hanging from a tree branch in my front yard. At first, I thought she was dead. Then I saw a flap of a wing, a bit of a struggle.

I noticed a nest starting a few branches higher. But something went terribly wrong. There was a black line, like fishing line, wrapped around the tree and around the wing of the bird. Every time the bird tried to break free, she wrapped her wing around the small branch again and again.

I approached the bird in a panic wondering what to do. I was afraid of the bird. The bird was afraid of me too. I spoke quietly panicked F words to the bird. I went back inside the house and grabbed a scissors. I started to cut away the line entrapping the bird. As I cut closer, the bird shrieked loudly. Panic took over my body. The tunnel vision started, my stomach acid built, and I started shaking. I was terrified to cut closer to the bird’s body, but I couldn’t leave it there to die.

So I did the next best thing after wimping out. I found someone to help me free the bird. He cut the line that was wrapped tightly around the wing. The bird fell to the ground and quickly ran away too injured to fly.

Then I started ruminating about horrible things. I thought about the nature shows I’ve watched where sea animals are caught in fishing nets. Or of all the animals that I hit with my car. Maybe some were pets. The dog that looked like mine that I saw dead along the highway years back. The pets that I lost. The fish that swallowed the hooks.

By far the worst thing that happened was a few years ago. I almost hit a deer at dusk. I slammed on my brakes just missing the deer. He ran quickly past me to the woods that was surrounded by a fence. The deer hit the fence at full force and did a flip. It was kind of comical at the time so I laughed. It felt good to relieve my nerves from the stress of almost hitting the deer. The deer was stunned from hitting the fence, but seemed to be  fine. So I left.

A few weeks later I was driving down the same road when I looked over at the area where I almost hit the deer. I noticed a dead deer that was tangled up in the fence. I knew it had to be the deer that I almost hit, that he didn’t end up being alright after all. I felt so horrible. Maybe I should have stayed longer to make sure the deer was okay. I felt guilty for my laughter. Things didn’t turn out okay like I thought they did at the time. It had to be the same animal, right? I NEVER would have left that animal there if I knew it was hurt or in any pain. It really bothered me.

Today when I came home for lunch, I saw the injured bird. Paul armed himself with a fishing net and I carried the cat carrier. We trudged around the neighborhood in attempts to capture the injured bird. I want to tell you that we caught it and brought it to the wildlife refuge like I planned, but we couldn’t catch it. The bird escaped into a muddy field. Now it probably would’ve been amusing watching us chase a bird in knee deep mud, but we had to give up. We couldn’t even catch it while on solid ground.

I can sense the storm approaching. The temperature dropped and the winds are ferociously howling. The ominous threat of a blizzard lingers. By tomorrow we are supposed to have a foot of snow whipping around in 40 mph winds.

I can’t control everything. I can’t protect everyone. I did the best I could. I am just going to have to let this go…

 

Cabin chaos, part 4

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A couple of years back, Paul wanted to learn more about sailing. He signed up for a beginner’s sailing class. At the end of the class, the instructor suggested that the students buy a small sailboat to practice sailing. That is exactly what Paul did. He bought a 1960’s model 12 ft Puffer, complete with retro life jackets.

At the time, the sailboat seemed big. We took this boat up north and learned everything that we could on it. Since we bought a sailboat twice the size the following year, this boat looks so tiny. Now we keep this sailboat up north year round.

There were a few things that happened up north with the sailboat that were a little scary at the time. Now it makes for a humorous story.

We were up north for an unseasonably warm weekend in late September when Paul and Arabella decided to go for a sail. My mom was the one that alerted me of danger. A wind gust caught the small boat and tipped it over. Paul and Arabella were treading in cool deep water.

I couldn’t see them because the boat was blocking my view of them at first. I was worried that Paul got knocked out somehow. I feared that they were drowning or freezing to death. I tend to go through all of the worst case scenarios in my head. 

Paul said that they seemed to fall in slow motion. The biggest danger that they faced was losing the center board which he later secured.

I sent Angel and Alex out on a rescue mission in a paddle boat. I know what you are thinking. Really, a paddle boat?? Did that take a couple of months, or what? We didn’t have any other boats to send out. 

Meanwhile, under the stress of the rescue mission, Angel and Alex started fighting. I watched as my oldest two children started yelling, screaming, and swearing at each other over who had control of the paddle boat. The fighting escalated into pushing and shoving. Next thing I know, Angel was pushed overboard. Eventually, Angel and Arabella swam to shore and walked back to the cabin. I am glad we made sure that all of our kids are strong swimmers.

Paul and Alex struggled to bring the wayward boat back to shore. No lasting damage was done.

Too bad I didn’t get any pictures of that!

 

Cabin chaos, part 3

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After 50 years, the cabin became run down, bat ridden, and somewhat dilapidated. The roof leaked. The floor sagged under cracked worn flooring. Using the outhouse became outmoded as a commode. I really didn’t want to go up there anymore.

It was at this point that Aunt Grace decided to finance a major remodeling project. My brother Mark was the perfect guy for the job. He was good with his hands and was a very hard worker. When Mark was in middle school, he drew up a design for a water bed. He constructed the bed out of wood and spent the next 25 years sleeping in it.

Being the middle brother of my younger 3 brothers, Mark was almost invisible. Matt and Luke demanded almost all of the attention. Mark received attention and approval by working hard. He is the hardest worker that I have ever known. By the end of his teen years, he had already wrecked his knees and back from hard physical labor. Last summer I think he felt threatened when I told everyone that I was running a marathon. He told me that he bet he could run faster than me. He holds the title of family brawn.

Mark started to remodel the cabin in a process that took about 6 years. He managed the project and did a majority of the work despite living several hours away. He gutted out the cabin then put on new siding, new windows, redid the fireplace, and added an indoor bathroom. Once the old flooring was removed, we discovered hardwood floors underneath. Mark restored the hardwood flooring, put on a new roof, and put up dry wall. He also worked on the trim with precision and accuracy.

The most difficult thing he had to do was face his fears to get the job done. He braved claustrophobia, spiders, and rodents to squeeze in through a small opening to a crawl space. He needed to go underneath the cabin in a dark, musty, moldy dirt hole to reinforce the foundation. Plus, it was dangerous. If something went wrong, it could have collapsed and crushed him.

Everyone worked together as a team to complete the project, but almost all of the credit goes to Mark.

When Mark finished the remodeling project the cabin was magnificent.

 

Cabin chaos, part 2

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The calm and serenity of the lake seemed to mock my agitation.

What an absolutely gorgeous morning on the lake. Paul was enjoying one of his favorite pastimes, fishing.

 Meanwhile, back at the cabin there was an entirely different story altogether. I pulled the car up to the front of the cabin, opened the trunk, and started madly throwing all of our stuff inside.

On that day, Paul was a lot further out on the lake then he was on the day that I took this picture. He could barely see me as I wildly waved my arms in the air. He thought it was unusual that I parked the car close to the cabin. He saw me wave, but kept on fishing oblivious to what was happening across the lake. It was a time before cell phones were used, back before my youngest child was even born.

We arrived at the cabin in the early evening. We started a fire in the fireplace. As the evening wore on, we put our two worn out children to bed. The fire started to die out as we settled into our bedroom nearby. The fire cast dancing demons on the wall. Then it happened. We saw in the shadows a flutter of wings. We suddenly found ourselves in the setting of a cheap horror movie. What was that? A bat??!? Paul turned on all of the lights and opened the doors trying to get the bat outside. He thought that he was successful in his endeavor and we fell into a restless slumber.

Bats were not an uncommon sight at the cabin, especially after our garage infestation. Sometimes while we were spring cleaning we would spot a bat behind an old shirt. We had bats in the cabin several times when I was a kid. I also mistook their interest in insects as an interest in me or my long hair. 

The next morning, Paul woke up early to go fishing. He must have spooked a bat because after he left there was a bat in our room. It circled around the room for what seemed like 20 minutes. The minute I saw it, I screamed and hid under the blankets. My breathing quickened as my fear intensified. Then I heard a scratching on the screen of our window that was opened a crack. After I thought I was safe, I got up and started packing up all of our things. The kids never woke up during the whole incident.

Later we realized that the fireplace was the bat entrance and exit. The bats inside were not able to escape for the evening if we had a fire. 

I finally was able to get Paul’s attention. He came back and we got the kids in the car to leave when the rest of my family came up to the cabin. I told them that we were leaving and not coming back until the bats were gone. 
 

Grace uncommon, part 13

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It was the scariest night I spent at Aunt Grace’s.

Aunt Grace lived in the same big farmhouse her whole life. However, the family business replaced the farm that should have been next door. My great-grandparents built the house in the early 1900’s. At one time, the unincorporated town that she lived in was bustling and alive with businesses, families, and even a train that ran through the town.

The town grew old right around the time Aunt Grace did. A lot of the major businesses pulled out of town leaving behind vacant buildings. Big old houses, the old grocery store, the dance hall in the bar, and even the old bank that Grace worked at were turned into cheap apartments. Weeds grew along the creek that trickled through town instead of flowers and freshly mowed grass like before. The family business shut down and the windows were boarded.

Aunt Grace’s house was always cold and drafty in the winter. Her house was even cool in the summer. She didn’t have A/C. She didn’t really need it. I remember it being a hot summer night that eventful evening. We slept with all the windows open. The kids and I stayed with Grace during the week without Paul because he had to work the next day. Even though my dad didn’t seem to mind staying up all night with Grace during the week, he sometimes needed a break.

That night after I put the kids and Grace to bed, I settled myself in on the couch outside of Grace’s bedroom. I awoke to shouting in the middle of the night. I looked out the window to see four men violently fighting outside under the street light. Punches were thrown. Men were dancing around in a bloody ballet. Does someone have a knife? What am I going to do? Will I witness a murder tonight? I have to call the police. But how am I going to dial Grace’s old rotary phone in the dark?

I am very afraid. If they hurt each other, what could they do to us? What if Grace wakes up screaming like she usually does? What if the children wake up crying? I feel vulnerable. I can’t protect anyone. I can’t get to the phone. I’m afraid to draw attention to the house. Don’t turn on the lights. All the windows are open with only a screen keeping them out. I am afraid they will see me watching in horror. I am afraid they will hear my ragged breaths.

I watched for those minutes that seemed like hours. The men stagger away into the darkness no longer under the street light. Do they linger in the backyard? Do they mean any harm? The adrenaline pumps through my veins preventing sleep. I can’t believe what I just saw.

Aunt Grace slept most of the night.

Grace uncommon, part 10

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Aunt Grace did not like to be touched. But it seemed to go beyond shirking away from hugs. My family was never the affectionate touchy feely huggy group. However, Aunt Grace’s dislike of touch went far beyond the human touch. She liked animals but had a great fear of them touching her. I found this to be quite peculiar. Even the least affectionate person that I know loves the furry touch of cute kittens or puppies.

I knew that Grace liked animals. She always threw out stale bread for the birds to eat. She put out milk or food scraps for the stray cats in the neighborhood. Her care towards them told me that she liked them. But if an animal came near her, she would shriek.

Once I brought my dog with when I visited Grace. He got away from me and jumped on Grace’s lap. She screamed, “Get it off of me” over and over in fright. When we were little kids, we thought that her fear was rather comical. Now as an adult, I wish I understood why she was so afraid.

Grace uncommon, part 5

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Sometimes when I was with her I felt like I was suffocating.

Aunt Grace not only wore navy blue clothes, she bought navy blue cars as well. Except for the two tone two door gold Olds Cutlass. Aunt Grace was hands down the worst driver I ever knew. I often felt car sick riding with her. My stomach churned as I watched cars move towards us then stop quickly. It seemed like the windows were always up without A/C. It was always hot, always suffocating. I was trapped in the back seat. There wasn’t any way out of it. I often felt like I was on an amusement park ride that I thought I could handle, but found out I couldn’t.

Aunt Grace drove through red lights. She never stopped at 4 way stops either. She was oblivious to the rage of others and to our terror. When she was on the two lane highway, she drove at least 10 mph under the speed limit. She drove with half of the car on the road and half on the shoulder. People never seemed happy when she cut them off then drove slow in front of them. People tailgated. Some people thought that the shoulder was another lane and would pass her even if there was oncoming traffic. They would often honk at her or flip her off. She never seemed to notice.

My grandma once told me a secret about Aunt Grace. When she was young, she got pulled over for speeding and received a ticket. Not Aunt Grace, it didn’t seem possible. I wonder if it was after dark? She would never drive after dark, it was one of her rules. 

Aunt Grace often times would go into the ditch while backing out of my parents driveway. They live on the top of a small hill so their driveway is on an incline with 6 ft ditches on the bottom of both sides. We always looked out the window when Aunt Grace left, especially during the winter months. At times she would slide into the ditch and get trapped in her car by the snow. If we didn’t watch, she might not be able to get out to ask for help. Sometimes we had to push her out of the ditch. It sure was a good thing Uncle Harold had a wrecker to pull her out with when she got really stuck.

I told my mom that I didn’t want to ride in the car with Aunt Grace anymore. My mom was also afraid of her driving and worried when she took us places. But grandma always rode with Aunt Grace, especially after grandpa got sick and could no longer drive. My grandma never drove a car. 

The travel diaries, hidden places

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I want you to close your eyes for just a moment and think about the busiest place that you have ever been. I am thinking about New York City. Horns honking, tires squealing, brakes squeaking, street vendors selling loudly, all a jumbled mass of sounds echoing off of buildings. Now I want you to think of the most remote location that you have ever been to then multiply it by 100.

A few years ago, Paul and I wanted to get away for the weekend to escape from the noise of life. I reserved a remote camping site at the Northern Highlands State Forest in Wisconsin.The site I reserved was called Sunset Point. It was one of five camp sites. Three were located on the main lake, one was on the second lake, and the site I reserved was on the farthest end of the third lake.

Paul reserved remote camping sites before. He would get together with a group of guys and take his fishing boat filled with camping gear to the remote site. They would spend the weekend fishing and cooking up their catch. This time I wanted in on the adventure but with just the two of us.

There were a few very important things that I overlooked when I reserved this site. We had the truck loaded up with camping gear when Paul decided to take one last look at the site details before we left. He noticed that our camp site was not a boat in remote site like we thought. It was actually a canoe in remote site. We would have to carry our canoe and gear a couple of football fields between lakes to get there. Oh, and a storm was coming.

Thankfully we were able to drop off the kids at my in-laws and pick up a canoe that they had up in the rafters of their shed. That afternoon we were finally able to check into our camp site. The park ranger said that due to the bad weather expected almost all of the campers canceled their sites. We decided to keep our site on the furthest lake. He told us that in the event of a severe storm, we were on our own. He gave us a map and wished us luck.

We drove about 15 minutes down a one lane dusty dirt road. It was full of potholes. We were bouncing around so much that I thought our canoe would fall off. Vines and brush pressed against the truck on both sides. It was a great place to hide a body and we didn’t even get to our site yet. Once we got to the parking spot, we realized that we majorly over packed. We packed for a boat ride across the lake, not a canoe ride across three lakes. We took three trips back and forth across each lake to be able to fit our most essential gear. Then we carried the canoe across a couple of football fields down a little dirt path to get to the second and third lakes. We had to make multiple trips to get the rest of our gear. It took us several hours to finally get to our site. We arrived just before it got dark hurrying our exhausted muscles along more and more as dusk approached. We still had to set up camp, eat, and try to hunker down before the storm came.

We truly were out in the middle of nowhere on a small lake in a heavily wooded area. There weren’t any electrical hook ups here. A short distance from the camp was a pit toilet in the middle of the woods without a structure around it. We were completely in the dark once night hit. We settled into our tent early that night trying to sleep before the storm arrived. Paul tied our tent up to the trees surrounding it to give it more support. We heard a coyote howl in the night. Taking a hike to go to the bathroom would be a little scary. Not to mention feeling vulnerable out in the wide open.

We awoke that night to distant thunder then the roaring of a great wind. Rain knocked gently at first with a little tap, tap, tap. Then tree branched clapped and tapped along our tent. Everything seemed so loud. I grabbed the flashlight to shine on my face (like the actress from the Blair Witch Project) and jokingly said, “I’m so scared.” But I really was afraid. I was afraid that a big tree would come crashing down on us. I was afraid that I would have to swim across three lakes and run across a couple of football fields with broken legs. Oh heck, might as well just throw in a bear.

Despite my fears, we woke up that morning in paradise. Most of our wood got wet, other than that everything was perfect. We fished on that little lake. We had a great time in the miniature Garden of Eden (without snakes). I even checked skinny dipping off my bucket list. We didn’t see a single person all weekend. Well, except for when that small plane flew over while I was skinny dipping.

The next morning it was time to go home. Once again, we were in a bit of a hurry because another storm was going to hit that afternoon. We decided that we did have enough time to make a good breakfast. While Paul made bacon, we heard howling that came closer and closer to us. I sat in the canoe while he cooked just in case something came out at us. To this day I couldn’t tell you if it was coyotes, wolves, or hunting dogs. All I know was that it was pretty unnerving. It sure did motivate us to get out of there as fast as we could.

We finally were able to load up our bags and head out, but not before we put the weight of the world back on our shoulders. Things didn’t go that well with my mother-in-law and the kids. She couldn’t handle all three kids at once. She was swearing about them while we loaded them up into the truck and left. After that, I didn’t speak to my mother-in-law for about a year. Getting away did wonders for our marriage. Too bad it didn’t have the same effect on my mother-in-law.

We always expected to go back to our hiding spot. In fact, I even made reservations to go back the following summer. We loved the taste of serenity that solitude provided along with a little spice of being survivalists. We wanted to right our wrongs, like not over packing. When the weekend came around to go back, we didn’t have a sitter for the kids and it was going to be stormy the entire weekend. So we never did go back, but sometimes I want to.

 

 

The travel diaries, The Grand Canyon

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A few years ago, Paul and I had a conference in Phoenix. I’ll be honest with you, the little lunch break by the pool ended up turning into missing the next seminar. Didn’t we hear about that topic the year before anyway? We never get hot summer days in the fall in WI. Sometimes we don’t get hot summer days in the summer. So really could you blame us for giving in to temptation?

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After the conference we rented a car and drove to Flagstaff. On the way we stopped in a little town called Jerome. We were told that was where the hippies live. We did see a couple in a VW van that could pass as hippies but that was about it. I wasn’t able to add to my collection of boho clothes or jewelry, but we did have a nice lunch. Then we stopped at the Red Rock park and hiked there for awhile.

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Flagstaff was a nice high altitude city. We took a short hike and I was very winded. We met a lot of people, most of them tourists like us. We met a man that followed us to a costume shop to see if he could buy a Bacchus costume to celebrate the fall solstice. He was going to ride around town on his motorcycle while wearing it. OOKKaaayyy. Interesting. Hmm. We met another couple, the woman’s dad lives near us and we know him. Small world.

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The highlight of our trip however was seeing The Grand Canyon. We decided to take the 6 mile hike around the south rim. If you remember from earlier, I am afraid of heights. I can’t even explain in words how overwhelming and immensely grandeur this location is. When we got off the bus to start our hike, I was so terrified that I wanted to turn around and head back. I practically glued my body as far as I could away from the massive drop. In most places, the trails were right next to the side of the cliff without guard rails. There were narrow paths that caused me to cringe when I had to pass someone. After awhile I got used to the dizzying heights.

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When we got back to the hotel we looked online to see how many lives were claimed by this monsterous canyon. There were some interesting stories, like the man who pretended he was falling then actually did. Or the husband who had his wife keep moving back just a little more for the picture.

While I stood at the edge looking down, the still voice inside my head said jump! Jump! Paul said he had the same temptation. It was so strange. I had a lot of anxiety seeing families with small children. Or crazy people that would balance on the ledge. I was always afraid they would fall. 

It is a horrifyingly beautiful location. I was awe struck and overwhelmed at the same time. I cannot express the feelings that this miracle of creation elicited within me. I felt like a tiny little ant. You will just have to take a visit yourself!

The flight home was the scariest flight I have ever taken. We had turbulence the whole 3 hours because we were flying over a storm. They couldn’t even serve food or drinks. I faced a lot of fears on this trip and it was positively exhilarating. This is a great location for the adventurous, but leave the little ones at home. I think it would be fun to take a week to hike down into the canyon. Or go rafting on the tiny little river. Okay, it just looks tiny when you are standing at the top of the world. One day just wasn’t enough to see this beauty. 

Good thing I didn’t kick the bucket while checking this one off my bucket list!