Exercise #1

Even the trees shudder as the dark clouds and haze fall over the canyon’s wall. Largely unaware of this I continue climbing, struggling up a pile of dirt and rocks. It’s only when I reach the top that I realize there’s no one in sight. I take a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth, smelling pre-rain on inhale. I look around and down at myself and see my hands and knees are covered with scrapes and cuts, but it doesn’t bother me.
I search the ground for a perfect rock. A unique rock to hold onto as a symbol of my climb, my accomplishment. I find the rock that I want. Picking it up, I dust it off and feel this truly was a treasure worth the trip; Somewhat polished, but with enough roughness to look wild. Beautiful, I think. I shake with a start and drop the rock as a flash of lightning and immediate thunder strikes in the sky above me, the rock my treasure slips out of my hand and lands at my feet. I grab it quickly and shove it in my pocket with the rest of my day’s loot as I hear rain drops begin to pound the trees around me far away at first, then closer, closer. Finally I feel heavy and large drops on my head. The wind picks up and almost knocks me over…Again. The rain starts to pelt my face.
Soon the hill I’m standing on turns to mud and I start to slide. Down the hill, with the rocks and the mud I go. My belt loop gets snagged on a deep root and I slide no further while the jagged rocks swimming in mud scrape down my bare arms. I struggle to free myself, with much difficulty but no success. Finally, the weight of the mud and rocks piled at my back rip the belt loop off and I’m able to continue sliding, using my hands desperately pushing on anything I can to keep upright. Once I get to the bottom, I’m covered in mud and bleeding down my arms. To top that off, I’m shivering uncontrollably and see my breath bellow out of my mouth in the cold gray air, but not very far as the rain and the fog barely let me see the ground around my feet. All around me I hear and feel the pounding rain and howling wind.
It then occurs to me that coming alone without telling anyone was probably a dumb idea.
Luckily I know the way back to camp: down the path some ways, through the trees and brush, across the creek and then a straight shot across the grass.
I start to run down the path, but quickly my foot snags a root and I fly forward, hitting the ground with a jolt and lose my breath. I force myself up and get pelted with hale on my ascent. Small chunks of ice at first, then bigger. Golf ball size at least. As a few big ones hit my head I wince in pain. The rain continues along with the hale. I jump off the path under the safety of the trees, still getting drenched, but free from the hale mostly. Making my way down I finally get to where I can cut my way through the trees and across the creek. Only the creek is swollen, much higher and wider than before. My stepping stones are gone and the water is fast moving. I search along the creek for a good place to cross still under the shield of the trees long enough for the hale to stop. I find a good enough spot, and hold onto some branches as I stretch my right leg to the first stone. Good and steady. Now I try to bring my left leg around. Steady step, careful movement. Disaster.
I slip off the rock and into the water. It’s deep enough carries me. The good news is the mud is washed off so that ordeal has no evidence, but the bad news is any part of me that was dry has now been found out by water. I frantically grab for anything to get myself under control. A rock fails, too slippery – a root breaks off, too weak – air, water, no success. I manage to keep my head above the water, mostly, catching glimpses of the grey shadowy surroundings with my frantic breaths. I catch sight of an overturned tree, laying itself across the creek, bowing to help me out. I force my legs down and into the water, anchoring them on the bottom rocks and forcing my body up. Hands in front I grab for the log. The water is too strong and forces me into the log and a stray twig stabs my breastbone and now I see all the blood in the stream, from my hands, arms, and chest. I push back enough to unstick myself and pull my body to the side of the creek and out of the water. Soaking wet and still fighting for breath, I start to run as the rain turns to sleet. I’m sprinting so fast, although I know not where towards. I’m so disoriented and can’t see very far ahead. Luckily I make it to the camp as the sleet turns to snow, coming down sideways in the wind, burning my face and bare arms on impact. Our tent’s blowing over and my father and brother are trying to take it down. I make it in time to help them when it occurs to my dad that I’m shivering cold and very pale, bloody, and wet. He tries to relight the fire, but it’s far too windy. He takes me to the car, tells me to take off my cold clothes, and he throws all the sleeping bags over me and idles the car for its heater.
I’m tired and weak and cold.
My thoughts escape me.
I drift away.