Gumption

It takes gumption to do a lot of things in life. It takes gumption to get up, brush your teeth, and head out to work five times a week, 50 weeks a year, for the rest of your useful life.

It also takes gumption to crawl out of your sleeping bag and go for a 20 mile hike in the Olympic National Forest. However, it doesn't take gumption to do this in 37° F weather with ice-cold rain seeping down your neck.

That takes stupidity.

Unfortunately, it seems I'm generously endowed with that particular characteristic, so after a fruitful business trip in Bellevue, WA, I drove 175 miles to a suspiciously empty Graves Creek campground in the Olympics. Trading a cushy hotel room for an airconditioned tent in the boondocks never seems like a bad idea when you're cozily nested in the aforementioned hotel room.

As I saw it, the weekend held promise of adventure and potential perils, Black Bears and Cougars among these. Sadly for the adventure, but happily for my life-and-limb, neither proved an issue. Ironically, it was the seemingly innocuous fauna of the region that served as the agent for my undoing.

Pay attention to these two persnickety characters:

1. Beavers
2. Elk

I was moseying along a trail, happy as a cactus in a rainforest, when it ended. Gone. It was as though the frog had leapt from the lily pad and hit the bottom, never to be seen again. Trails shouldn't do that.

Granted, there had been many puddles along the trail thus far. Rather large puddles at that. But this... This was more of a lake than a puddle.

I tried skirting around the perimeter, but it was hopeless. The trail was lost and I was about to follow duitifully in its footsteps. Just then, I saw it...

A downed aspen tree. And not just downed. Hewn. Aimed perpendicular to a now-submerged plank bridge.

Yes sirree, some overgrown rodent had decided to sabotage the bridge. There's no need for questioning on that point. Trust me. Those buck teeth would fail any polygraph test in the country.

That was day one. After crossing the submerged bridge, I completed a mostly-uneventful 14 mile out-and-back through the rain forest. After returning to base camp, I proceeded to enjoy a long, mostly-sleepless night.

Day two, the elk had their way with me.

I never knew this before, but elk follow very predetermined paths through the forest. Paths that can--to the untrained eye--appear like legitimate hiking trails.

And so they did.

Ten miles into the hike, all of a sudden the trail took on a mind of its own. It began twisting back and forth as though an insane lumberjack (or twisted NPS employee) was the mastermind. And not just one trail, mind you, but multiple trails that would branch off at the most inopportune times, making me wonder which was truly legitimate (hint: none of them were).

The result? Instead of hitting my desired terminus at the Enchanted Valley, I was stymied and sent back at the 10 mile mark, forever wary of the evil mind of the Elk.

Be wary, O lover of Beaver or ensign of Elk. I'm onto you now.

Cheap thrills. They'll kill me yet.

Until next time,
- Daniel