Rainstorm

Yesterday, I got caught in a rainstorm. I wanted to go for a walk, to prepare for all the hiking I plan on doing in March. I ended up going further than I planned and got stuck under that bat bridge for about forty minutes. My dad did come and pick me up, as he was on his way home from work and we now live together. I felt a little like a child, embarrassed only to myself that I needed saving. I was ill prepared. I didn’t even think about the rain, I just ran out there because I really wanted to. And for it, I got soaked, stranded, frozen. And I loved it.

What a metaphor for my life, huh?

My birthday is in March. I impulsively booked myself a four night stay at a campground near Big Bend national park out on the Rio Grande in Texas. I got the last opening until July and for the past few days have been attempting to plan for camping in the desert. I don’t even have a tent right now. It’s still stuck across the country in a storage unit. But I have a sleeping bag and a station wagon. When the back seats are folded down the trunk is six and a half feet. I stand at six-foot-one. It’s been a while since I went hiking, really hiking, and I’ve only done it in the deserts of Arizona once. I used to have lots of parks and trails just minutes from my house in Tennessee, and it got to the point where I was going on daily hikes, rain or shine. It becomes religious at that point. Doing the same trails over and over again, no matter what.

But yesterday, I was exercising, doing push-ups and leg raises, and I wanted to go outside. I’d need to get my legs back into hiking shape, especially if I was about to do five days of nothing but walking. I had spent most of the morning doing this, sitting at my computer cozily on my couch, writing. The adventure awaited. I got excited, put on a thin raincoat over my t-shirt, and went on a walk in the cold, wet day. I brought a book even, because what if I find a spot to sit and feel like reading? Though, it was more so training mission. I wanted to mimic the day long hikes I’d be gearing up for. I knew that wasn’t possible. The rain would come eventually, but I figured I could make it through. I didn’t actually think about what if it did rain. I just planned on walking down to the river, as far up and down as I could, and back.

The walking itself turned into a rekindling of my adventurous childhood. The why not mentality of let’s go over here and check this out, and going the extra steps to scratch the explorer’s itch. I was having fun, and each chance I got, I went further. My hands were cold before I even got a few blocks in, but my soul beamed out through my face. I like to imagine that people at the red lights and stop signs took an extra look, and that my smile gave them one too. I had moments on the empty trail where I ran out of nothing but pure joy. It’s no wonder that no one was out there. I went as far as I possibly could, until I came to the end of the paved trail. All that existed beyond was a road and a neighborhood. So, I crossed the river and started back.

Originally, I planned on going all the way down the other direction too, but as I got closer to the street I followed to the river, I felt the encroaching feeling that I was playing with my time. I’ll cross over right before it and head back, I thought to myself. But that was even too late. I made my way onto the bridge as it started to pour. I ran for the next bridge, the one cars use. In just a few moments being outside, I was soaked. Luckily my rain jacket worked, but the wind started to bite my fingers and toes. I was under the bat bridge. Little chirps of sleeping bats called out as the rain raged just beyond us.

I heaved my warm breath onto my hands and pulled out my book. My dad texted me asking me to bring in a package. Went on walk. Now stuck under bat bridge cuz of rain, I texted back. I only read one short chapter of three pages before I realized I should protect my hands. They were freezing. The nails turning a light purple. I put the book away and put my hands into my thin, wet pockets, turning them closer to my thighs. I was still ecstatic about being outside, but the thoughts came into my mind of why hadn’t I planned? But I had been through times like this before. It gets miserable sometimes, because you were a dumbass, but I’d always gotten out of it so far. Each time with a new story to tell. That’s really why we go on adventures isn’t it? The trill in the moment and the story afterwards.

I can come pick you up, my dad texted. I knew that was the best way for me to get out of this situation, but I didn’t want it to be. I wanted to fix it myself. I was planning a five-day, solo trip to a large desert national park, where all I wanted to do was go out and hike. Out there, there would be no one to come bail me out, no cavalry to come save the day if I mess up. I should have planned better. I should have thought about this. Why hadn’t I? I got excited and rushed out, not really knowing what I was in for. I didn’t check the weather. I didn’t think about the time frame. I was tired of sitting at home and was stricken with wanderlust. I felt like a child. Yet still, I was nothing but happy, and overly calm about it. It was kind of funny actually.

The wind under the bridge was malicious. The rain slowed for just a few moments and I took the chance to bolt up and across the street to a strip mall. They were all offices or spas, so I couldn’t go in any of the stores and warm up. I crooked myself into the elevator cropping and waited for my dad. The muscles in my fingers were tense. I could barely bend them, but I was still able to text my location. I waited there for about thirty minutes before he rolled up in his BMW convertible. He drove me home and I took a room temperature shower, only slowly raising the heat. Some movie I saw as a kid about this guy who gets frostbite in Alaska taught me not to overcorrect when heating up your body. The blackness of his nose and fingers stuck with me. I was nowhere near frostbite, but it was nice to be home.

If anything, it made me realize this pattern. I need to prepare more for my trip, because I’m definitely still going.