"What isn't a good time makes for a good story."

So there I am, two miles into a supposed six mile hike, round trip, and we see the sign saying four miles.  This was one of those "Oh sh*t" moments, my backpack was already feeling heavier than I had imagined, was already thirsty, a little tired, and starting to stink.  I should have known then that we were in for a long adventure.  In fact, I should have known when the van got stuck in the snow and it took a half hour to get it turned around, pushing from the front, then back, etc.  But with the motivation of Charlie being totally and completely surprised, and the terror of asking all these outdoor-people strangers to go back so that I wouldn't miss my shift, there was no choice to go on.

In my head, I was still convincing myself it would go by quick and I would be back to work in time, and not too stinky or sore to work.  So we trekked on.  A little later, a girl felt faint, and had to go back.  Seeing as she could not go back alone, a boy went with her leaving two backpack amounts worth of food to be dispersed into the rest of our packs.  This is where I started to get nervous.  But what was my choice?  Go back and waste my day and all that energy hiking that far?  No, so onward ho!  Then came a creek crossing, but thankfully there was a way across.  Then came the second creek crossing with no way across; I should say, no dry way across.  A bit of slipping and sliding and wet socks fixed this, and so we kept on.  This is when I started getting tired, but also had a second wind of excitement since I would see Charlie for the first time in three weeks very soon, so we kept on going.  Then a boy couldn't go on, and we stopped to adjust packs, the leader wearing one on his front as well as his back.  I was trying to not think of all the potential outcomes, those of us with our lovers waiting for us (though unbeknownst to Charlie) led the pack, though eventually separating since we were traveling at different speeds.  Alone and trying to self-motivate and calm myself, a crack of thunder opened up the grey sky and hail started falling like crazy.  Here was one of those moments that felt like a movie, I felt like I couldn't go on, but instead of turning around or waiting for the people behind me, I took off my pack and and put my shell on, then booked it forward hoping to run into someone.  Thankfully, that's exactly what happened.  I heard my name being called as I was stuck like a turtle on it's back after sliding down a small hill on my bum.  My snowshoes and backpack made it impossible to get up, so I had to take off my backpack again to get up.  Hearing my name gave me the bit of strength I needed.  By this time, it was one o'clock -- three hours later than we were supposed to have met up with the expedition group, and still no one.  We decided that at one-thirty we would turn back, but at one-forty we were still walking, yelling every few minutes "hellloooo!"  Just as we were literally stopping to turn around, I saw the most beautiful thing I could have seen -- Charlie's smiling face.  He had caught wind I was coming from the Forest Service guy (aka surprise ruin-er,) and came and gave me a hug and a kiss and took my heavy backpack from me.  I could have cried right then and there.  Anyway, we got to their camp and got to hang out for a little while before the people behind us got there.  Once they arrived, we divvied up the food from all of the packs, and had to say our goodbyes.  Our estimated sixmileroundtrip hike turned into sixteen real fast, which meant as our backs were to our lovers, we had another eight miles ahead of us.

Our packs were lighter, we were trying to keep our spirits just as light.  But by the time we reached the creek crossing again, it was difficult to.  Hungry, cold, wet, and dehydrated, we had to go on.  My wet feet squished in the socks leaving my feet feeling prune-y and cold.  Again, it ended up being the two of us girls all alone, this time for the majority of the hike back.  The four boys were behind us, three helping out the one having difficulties.  We had some good conversations and girl talk, but as the day wore on, we were just making stuff up to be encouraged.  We talked of people on the Oregon Trail and how much better off we were having waterproof gear etc.  We talked of chipmunks and how hardy they had to be to survive in lands of snow that lasted nearly 365 days a year.  At one point, we pretended we were on a game show that we couldn't win unless we made it to the van.  We cursed, we laughed, we were delirious.  I was focusing so much on making my next step, and then the step after that, that I had little time to think about how late it was and what would happen if I didn't show up to work.  I was also worried about the boys behind us.  By the time I got to the road, I was done.  I was at my end.  I was so happy to be on the road.  But then turn after turn the van wasn't there, and at one point I was whimpering to myself, about to stop and lay in the street.  But of course, we eventually made it there.  The two who went back earlier had been waiting hours and hours for us, and the van was warm.  We stripped off our wet socks and clothes and drank water and ate what little food we had left.  Only then did  I check my phone and call my work.  Little did I know, everyone thought I was missing or dead.  My mom was legitimately mad when I called her, but just because she had been so worried.  My work had called my parents when I wasn't at work three hours after I said I would be there.  After I had apologized profusely and explained the situation, there was nothing left to do besides wait.  The four boys emerged about an hour after us, and we went home.  One shift missed for me, and for others, a wedding and a concert.

Long story short, hikes always take longer than anticipated, always bring more food and water than anticipated, and things that don't kill you make you stronger.  Four days after-the-fact and I am still sore, but it is starting to seem more worth it.  I am proud of myself, I far exceeded what I ever thought I could do.  I made up with my co-workers.  I saw and surprised Charlie maybe more than I ever can again.  

Please & Thank You

Dear all customers of the world,
I am writing to remind you of something you may have forgotten.  Your mamma said it once, said it a thousand times and yet it has not quite stuck in your mind. 
I'm not just talking about "kids these days."  Some of the perpetrators are old as well as in-between.
Now, I'm not talking anything crazy -- or am I? 
When I ask, "how are you/how is your day going?" I don't necessarily want to hear about your mom/grandma/cat etc.  However, "gimme a medium ameri-canna" is not an appropriate answer.  Ever.  Nor is, "I'll take a [fill in the blank.]"  A "fine, thanks" would suffice, or dare I say, a smile.  Just acknowledge the question and me as a human being rather than a slave -- please & thank you.
The magic word is still magic.  If you don't know how to get off your iphone and talk to me like an adult, then you don't deserve to be served.  If you don't say please and thank you, just know that I am hoping you burn that silent tongue of yours clean off!
We all have crappy days, but saying a few kind words cannot make it worse.  In fact, maybe it will make you happier. 
So please, mind your manners.  Thank you.
Sincerely,

Your fellow human being & barista

Jehovah Witnesses & Pajamas

No, they weren't in pajamas, I was. 

I opened the door thinking maybe it was a package or something awesome, like girl scouts selling cookies (just kidding, they don't venture this far out.)  But apparently Jehovah Witnesses do!  

When she said they were in the neighborhood I wanted to laugh.  Pah!  Neighborhood, my neighbor couldn't hear me if I was screaming "RAPE!"  

That's besides the point.  I told her that it was nice of her to stop by, but I was in my pajamas, and that we all pray anyway.  Alas, she still said she'd stop by again.  I wanted to tell her, if you see that big black dog (who just so happened to be locked up) running at you next time, just turn around; you got lucky that they were locked up.  But, instead I just said, "Stay dry out there."  Who am I?

And for the record, it is only 10 o-clock on my day off.  Not weird to be in my pajamas still! 

P.S. I wish I were wearing these.  Such a steal at only $39.95.

 

Icelandia

I am getting married in 137 days.  I am starting to freak out a little.  Being married to someone is going to change everything.  So is our 8 week honeymoon in Iceland.  I just hope that he doesn't regret marrying me after our honeymoon.  After-all, he is the outdoorsy, in shape one.  Blisters, whining, hunger, and a bad attitude are sure to plague me.  I have already done my fair share of whining about buying backpacking underwear and clunky hiking boots.  Most of my complaints come from the idea that one's honeymoon should be sexy, all the time; the other complaints come from a deep rooted insecurity of (un)attractiveness.  Hopefully Charlie will still love me when I'm not only grumpy and stinky, but wearing un-sexy underwear, no makeup, and feel ugly.

On the plus side, Iceland (139 days away!) will make up for the un-sexiness of backpacking underwear, (which you can tell how much I detest.)

MADE IN ICELAND from Klara Harden on Vimeo.

P.S.  I am really excited for Iceland.  I am excited to go on an adventure.  But part of me just thinks about going on adventures, and not them actually happening. It's actually happening this time.  Traveling is fun, but it brings out the best and worst in a person.  I'm not sure if we've seen each others worst.  That is precisely why the words, "for better or for worse" make it into the vows.

Cheers to marriage, sex, adventure, and Iceland.

 

America the Beautiful

It is said that people who don't know their history have no future.  

Throughout history, there has been warfare, genocide, racism, hate, and other horrible atrocities.  I have never done such a thing.  I was never a Nazi, exterminating Jews; or someone forcing the Native Americans into boarding schools, to have the barbarism beaten out of them.  I have never owned a slave, or killed anyone for religion's sake.  However, there are remaining affects of such things.  What is my history?   But more importantly, what is my future?  America has a colorful history, most of the atrocities somehow don't make it into history books, or are horrible slanted.  No, we did not kill Jewish people in WWII, but we held Japanese people in concentration-esque camps, even those who were American citizens, during this same time.  But I didn't learn that in my seventh grade history class when we read the Diary of Anne Frank.  I didn't know until last year that hundreds of Native Americans were not only removed from their lands and forced onto small, useless lands called reservations; but they were also forced to go to militant like boarding schools.  Four and five year olds were separated from their parents, sometimes until teenagers.  I can never imagine being owned, and living on a plantation as someone's property. 

My first thought on such things is disbelief, not just because it's America, but because these are "modern times" that these things are happening.  How, and why were such things allowed?  My second thought is anger.  I watched a photo-documentary on the present Lakota Indian Reservation, and the statistics blew my mind.  The average male life expectancy is mid-forties.  This is the same as males in Afghanistan presently - during an active war.  But the reservation is here in America, and there is no war going on.  How does this happen?

Basically, this is a rant.  I am learning things that only make me question.  Ignorance is bliss, right?  Well, I'm not blissful anymore.  This is my history of America.  I know my past, and I will have a future.  Hopefully, in my future are aspects such as peace and healing.  In order to be the most helpful in present times of economic stress, failure, and struggles, it is best to know the past failings.  Though it is said you can learn from your mistakes, I see the same mistakes being made throughout history.  But this doesn't need to always be the case.

Once I heard someone say, "you can't fix the world, but you can change it."  This sentence, I hold on to tightly.  There are too many broken things in the world, but at least some can  change, and I intend to do so.

7 am

I close one eye as I focus on the landscape, picturing the colorful world in monochromatic shades. The shutter is the only sound in the foggy morning aside from the crunch of the gravel beneath my boots. There is a peace in my soul as I piece together snippets of the world around me. It doesn't matter what thoughts were previously running through my mind, they are pushed aside as soon as the weight of the camera is in my cold hands. It is moments like these that the world seems right, if only for a second. There is beauty all around, if only I could stop my whirlwind of a life more often for slow moments like this. I hold my breath as the sun breaks the softness of the morning, spilling over the eastern hills. I hold my borrowed camera trying to get the perfect shot, remembering to breathe, I exhale and fog up the lens. I laugh a little as I wipe it off, feeling more whole than I have in awhile. Chilled fingers, muddy boots, and runny nose - can you feel more alive than this?