Shit Gone Wrong

In a dance class recently, the instructor said it doesn’t matter if your steps are perfectly right every time, what matters is how well you recover when you get them wrong.  I think this is a good metaphor for life.  Life isn’t about everything going smoothly all the time, it’s about how well you recover when shit goes wrong. 

This past weekend in Yellowstone was an exercise in recovery.  Shit was going wrong all over the place.  And while I took most of it in stride with a “Ha, ha, ha” there came a point when it was just too much. 

Here’s a brief synopsis of The Shit:

I left Missoula late on Friday and didn’t roll in to Scott & Christine’s until around 6:30pm, so I lost an entire afternoon of hiking and spending time with Scott on his day off. 

At 8:00pm the next night, Christine found out she had to report for work at 8:00am the next day.  Not much of a warning for her first day on the job.  She wasn’t prepared for this, and neither was I.  While she frantically tried to put together the required uniform (which hadn’t yet arrived from the Park Service), we bitched about the government’s lack of foresight.  Then we played a round of Scrabble and mellowed out with some Bloody Mary’s. 

Sunday morning, Christine got up early for work while Scott got in “late” at 7:45am.   He had been part of 2 arrests in a very bizarre case that still doesn’t make sense to any rangers.  His typical 4:30p to 1:00a shift turned into 4:00p to 8:00am.  So one of my hiking partners went to work, while the other went to sleep.  I was solo :( 

The next evening, Christine & I locked ourselves out of the apartment.  Because there’s no cell service in the area, we were forced to drive around in search of a law enforcement officer which would hopefully be Scott…it wasn’t.  Instead, we found his supervisor, Phil.  After an embarrassing explanation of why we flagged him down, he chuckled & let us in with a master key. 

At this point, I was still laughing at the misfortunes of the weekend.

But Monday the 4^th tested my recovery abilities.  Christine had her 2^nd day on the job and Scott worked “late” again until 6:30am and needed to sleep all the next day.  I was left to search for a hike I could do alone (there’s lots of bears around right now and it’s ill-advised to hike by yourself). 

I’d already done the local hikes, so I decided to go to another area of the park.  Before heading the 40 minutes down to West Thumb, I stopped in the Bridge Bay Ranger Station to make sure there weren’t any trail closures.  The guy behind the desk didn’t seem to want to be bothered.  He grudgingly rifled through some papers and assured me the hikes were all open. 

However, he was wrong.  The only two hikes in West Thumb were closed due to grizzlies frequenting the area.  The rangers in the nearby store were of no help, recommending I drive south to Riddle Lake (which was rumored to be closed) or talk to the Interpreter Ranger outside for more suggestions.  The Interp Ranger suggested I “get around the closure sign by accessing one of the hikes from another avenue.”  When I scoffed at this idea (which is ILLEGAL and UNSAFE) he assured me Riddle Lake was open.  The 20 minute drive proved him wrong.    

I took a few deep breaths, reassured myself the day wasn’t a total loss yet and went in search of the Grant Village Ranger Station. 

This was quite possibly the most difficult office to find.  After much, much confusion (and a couple of park employees who weren’t even sure it existed), I finally found the backcountry office.  Thankfully these rangers knew their stuff. 

“Yep, all the hikes in the area are closed” they told me.  They suggested I head north, back where I came from.  Or, perhaps I’d like to drive another 30 miles south.  With the 45mph park speed limit, I’d arrive round about the time I’m supposed to be back at the apartment to meet Christine for the 4^th of July parade.  Ugh. 

With tears of frustration, I decided to throw in the towel, let go of the idea of a 4^th of July hike in the backcountry, and find a roadside park where I could sit outside and knit. 

A beach of black obsidian sand caught my eye and I chose a nice log and sat down to knit next to Yellowstone Lake.  Several rounds of my hat pattern calmed me down.  I ended up walking the length of the beach and had myself quite an adventure.  I came across wolf tracks, pretty blue flowers I’d never seen before, a heart-shaped rock, some interesting feathers, and I even took off my shoes to wade in Yellowstone Lake for a while.  I snapped tons of photos, and felt refreshed and renewed.

Good thing because more Shit was about to go wrong.

The 4^th of July parade started an hour late.  Those of us who were waiting were confused and unsure if the parade would start at all.  At one point we heard it begin, then there was a lot of commotion and the parade stopped.  No one informed us why.  Lots of people (especially those with children who’d lost their patience) ended up leaving and missing the parade.  When Christine & I finally decided to give up and walk back to the car, the parade began and we had to run back down to catch it…it was worth the wait though! 

Then, a storm literally blew in during the employee picnic causing everyone to frantically disperse in the thunder, lightning and downpour of rain.  But, Whatever!  Once again, I was laughing in the face of Shit, thinking that misadventures make the best stories. 

Moral of the Story:  When mis-steps in the Dance of Life happen, grab some fabulous yarn, a pair of needles, and KNIT.  Trust me, it’s nothing a little K2, P2 can’t cure.