Friday, March 6

A Brief Interlude

I decided to escape civilization for a time this past weekend and drove off in the early morning to a hiking location halfway between Austin and Bastrop that I had read about. My visit to "McKinney Roughs" was not quite on par with my expectations, and yet, it still fulfilled its purpose…I believe – its purpose being stints of absolute solitude. This desire for solitude somehow became inseparably combined with my boyhood thirst for adventure as well.

Solitude found me for the period of approximately 270 minutes, with minor interruptions provided by three groups of horsewomen and men (one of which passed me four times), a lone hiker, a group of four hiking me, one couple, and several folks I assume were workers, as well as quite a number of classic campout eyesores. Unfortunately, the nearly all-encompassing tranquility seemed to extend to the wildlife as well. While small aviators alit often on branches, the animal paradise I had hoped to find apparently exists no longer. I did, however, notice a number of eagles, vultures, and the like, and nearing the end of my hike, a friendly armadillo. While optimistic at the outset, after several long pause-and-search sessions of trees to identify peculiar sounds, I realized that I was largely alone with the haunting creak of these trees. Finally, in regard to finding life on the trail, I was quite, curiously, disappointed at finding no gaping spider webs blocking my path (I contemplated bringing, and almost brought, an umbrella to clear a path – like a real woodsmen, but decided against carrying the awkward object). All that existed were endless lines of green trees and dead trees, and a few hybrids with decayed branches covered in greenish beardlike mosses. I would only find beauty in most places in a shadow or a strangely broken branch, once or twice a mile. The time was primarily spent for the sake of solitude, loving the fact that none were near (although I was never solitary enough to be able to yell without causing a vast search party, or fear), and where I could simply converse with myself, both mentally and aloud I’m ashamed to say. When there is (you hope) no one for miles, the occasional self-speak/song is acceptable in my opinion.

I mentioned earlier that there was a second reason for my journey – the desire for adventure. This I also fulfilled. First of all, I don’t quite understand entirely the reasoning behind the rule that such parks always have: “Please do not stray from the trail in order to preserve the integrity of the park” or something to that effect. It makes the whole environment seem much more like a zoo than nature – a simulated environment. My own personal desire in going hiking at least on that day was to be utterly ensconced in nature, a feat made difficult by the constant reminders that lumberjacks have recently been to chop. I’m a man – I want to push through branches, leap over alligators, spear a tuna, battle a lion. In actuality, I only have the occasional desire to take “shortcuts” and cut through forested areas and climb up hills and such. While I thoroughly enjoy the calm, at some points there just seems to be too much monotony in most hikes. And when this feeling overtakes me, I stop, look around, and plunge into some dense patch of forest. This darn testosterone within me just gives me an urge to do something manly from time to time I suppose. Usually the thought comes spontaneously, but I’ve learned in past experiences that pathfinding (literally finding another path in this case) can be quite the experience. Pull out your map, pick a direction (likely you’ll end up lost anyway so it doesn’t really matter), and then charge through God’s creation. The journeys typically only lead to a few broken branches along the way and maybe some scratched-up skin and it’s as if I was never there. I understand that if every person that came to the trail gave into like urges we might do some damage, but in locations like this one, with over 20 miles of trail, I think it would be quite difficult to ever do any significant or irreparable damage.

My exploit for which I am most proud came in the last half hour of my hike. I body was weary and I had just sat out beside the great lesser Colorado River for a time, and then decided to head back to my car when I noticed directly in front of me a very steep hill-cliff structure. I didn’t immediately plan to brave it, but I saw that there were several hikers standing on the trail about 100 feet away in my path and decided I didn’t want to have to deal with the unavoidable “beautiful day, isn’t it?” type courtesy questions. I looked forward down the path and then turned to the left and began to dash up the dashable portion of hill. There was about a 15 dirt incline of no significant incline, a steady increase in angle that had me slipping often, and then a sort of dirt wall of varying yellows – a 60 degree incline that only steepened as the top of the minicliff was reached, after about 25 feet. I found a broken limb (not my own) to help me steady myself and looked in front of me and upwards. It looked as if a bulldozer had lifted away a considerable portion of earth. Some roots protruded through the dirt wall and branches from trees below as well as roots from trees above provided the necessary aid to reach my goal. I turned around momentarily to contemplate turning back from the suicide attempt but realized I would almost undoubtedly come rolling down through the dirt and the momentum acquired might even be enough to cast me through the thin line of trees and into the river. Also I didn’t want to terrify any fellow hikers – with my luck the timing would cast a few of them into the river with me as well. After my mind returned to the matter at hand, I grabbed a number of branches on both my left and right, so as to have some hope of some not breaking, and pulled myself to a place where I could balance, finding a sort of foot tall foot-sized cave to balance in and made my way up steadily for awhile, with great caution taking not to put too much faith in any branches or roots. At the final 10 feet, it seemed to just be a complete cliff. I turned back again, grasping in front of me a root in each hand and leaning away from the wall, and was assured that if falling would not break my legs, the river would certainly be my next destination. So I looked up and grabbed a snake-like root and nothing else and acted as if it were an actual climbing rope until I reached the top. One final obstacle I had not considered found me at the top – a complete wall of bramble and branch. I now had plenty to grab onto, but unfortunately I had no real strength to push myself through the wood, so I swung my root over a few feet and barely managed to push through the branches, and somehow only received a few bloody wounds on the tops of my hands. All I could think about at the time while hovering between life and paralyzed life was the real import of the great invention – the machete.

The adventure had now been fully completed and the pathfinder within was satisfied to begin a long journey to find some trail and then the parking lot. There’s something so thrilling about a precarious situation – your animal survival instincts kick in, when in everyday life there is no reason for them to be employed. And whether it is from pride - a general sense of accomplishment at having achieved a goal or relief at not dying, the experiences inevitably bring forth a great joy (and as I am still feeling, a great pain in the muscles).

Tuesday, March 3

Silly People

So...apparently Demetri Martin is a lot more popular than I had thought, at least among college students. Of course I know he is widely renowned for his comedic style (among young'uns especially) and has his own show on Comedy Central now, but I did not at all expect what came about this morning. He is coming to do a show next Tuesday at UT's Union Theater and a campus-wide email was sent announcing that passes would be handed out starting this morning at 8 am to everyone just over 24 hours ago. Of course, word of mouth and his tour schedule would have informed a great many already (I was told my a dear dear Arkansian friend myself), but I was still shocked to find myself, at 8:10, behind more than 600 people already.

As I walked to the Union, a number of people were walking by me that looked as if they had just come from a sleepover, with big sleeping backs, blankets, and pillows and I couldn't figure out why. It dawned on me when I saw the line - a good 80 feet from the building. A worker there informed several of us that people had started camping out by the building at 9 pm the previous night. Now, I understand fearing tickets selling out and I even understand the desire to just go out and camp out somewhere way before the tickets you want go on sale for the fun of the adventure with friends. What I don't understand is "why 9 pm?" There are 1100 tickets going on sale, and unless you are genuinely concerned that there are going to be 1100 more devoted Demetri Martin fans out there who are planning on showing up at 9:15, I'd think you might show up at the earliest, in the early AMs. You could easily go and hang out, party, go bowling, whatever for a few hours before going out to the adventure of camping outside the Union. I would think the fun would begin to dissipate after an hour or two, with the cold and the lack of motion and all. I can only think that these people were expecting Demetri himself to come and congratulate his most devoted fans, or that they might get a complimentary secret joke or custom poster or something of the sort.

Anyway, with the line as it was, I had a 25 minute wait ahead of me that snaked through the building, with plenty of workers to keep us in single file. The quota of 1100 people was reached just before 8:30. I had hoped to be able to get two tickets, or to bring friends in some way, but I couldn't think of anyone that would be willing to wait in such a monstrous line for a comedian they likely don't know. And so, I will be able to have a nice enjoyable weekday night, but with strangers. My hope is that there will be a large number of displaced loners, because everyone else in at least a three person radius seemed to be resigned to going alone. I fear both that my neighbors won't find the jokes I find funny as such and I'll be laughing loudly by myself, and the fact that I'll have to get there early in order to be guaranteed admission (there are a total of 1200 tickets in circulation I believe so I've only got to beat 100, and I assume many won't show up if they have to go alone). Nevertheless, I'm still quite excited for the event. Besides, I can always slide a book into my coat in case no one around me feels sociable and I don't run into any familiar faces.