Good Medicine

"Are you here as a volunteer or passing through," asked Deb to a woman entering camp burdened with a backpack and popping earbuds out of her ears.

"I'm passing through," the lady replied. "I'm hiking the Colorado Trail and working my way to Durango," she added while unslinging her pack and reaching down to pet her small red heeler who was overwhelmed by 8 dogs swarming the new arrivals.

Kathryn introduced herself and her 9 year old dog, Dixie, and had coincidentally stumbled into the Hope Pass aid station for the 2014 Leadville Trail 100 race.  Nearby llamas, who packed in all the camp's gear, staked out in the meadow caught Kathryn's attention while Dixie romped beside the large, yellow geodesic medical tent with her new furry friends.

"I'm from Seattle," Kathryn offered, "and when I researched all the trails, the Colorado Trail was the only one that's dog friendly."  She spoke of the Appalachian Trial and the Pacific Crest Trail and commented how she needed to do this now, especially since Dixie was aging.  Tall, slender, and attractive, I found it curious that she was out wandering around in the mountains, alone.

As the evening sun slipped behind the western ridge line, I told Kathryn that there was plenty of room in the medical tent which would save her at least one night of making camp. She eventually succumbed to the offer and was very disciplined in tending to her and Dixies' needs without encroaching on any aid station supplies. Most notably, despite over 75 gallons of drinkable water at everyone's disposal, she and Dixie dropped down the slope to the stream ribboning through the basin and used her own purification tablets to make their water.

Dixie relaxing on her custom made gear.

Although many perched on logs around the campfire passing a jug of whiskey, I went to bed.  Inside the big yellow bubble tent, I took one side while Kathryn took the other with Dixie in between.  The lumpy tundra made a poor matress, but all three of us had foam pads beneath our sleeping bags and I found Dixie's custom made sleeping bag an explanation point of how important she was to Kathryn. Our conversation was light and I learned Kathryn was 36 years old, an electrical engineer and very well spoken. She had issues with her employer and a 5 year relationship had just ended.  Her most treasured quality in a relationship was intelligence and she held her father in the highest regard. 

A tone of sadness was detected as she spoke and soon we were asleep, but mine became fitful during the night. Waking in seemingly hourly intervals, whiskey-laced jabbering at the campfire pierced the darkness well past midnight and Kathryn's sleep was restless with periodic talking from dreams she was experiencing.  Early the next morning while squirming in her sleeping bag, she stated, "Let me buy your secret so I don't freeze."  She twisted and thrashed some more as Dixie stayed nestled up beside her.

Squeezing the button to illuminate my watch, I squinted to see 5:05 a.m.  Calling it a night, I slid out of my bag and looked over at Kathryn.  She was face down with hands balled into fists and her arms drawn up under her torso. 

"Kathryn?" I whispered and she rotated her head to look at me. "I'm done sleeping.  If you're cold, I'll gladly drape my sleeping bag over you."

"Oh, I'm fine, but thank you. I'm not cold," was her response as I unzipped the tent's door. Zipping it shut from the outside seemed loud enough to start an avalanche in the silent alpine basin.

Strategically stacking kindling on red embers, I huffed and puffed and restarted a booming campfire that cut into the morning darkness.  As the black sky purpled with the coming daylight, workers for the aid station steadily emerged and a sound that blended ice cream truck music with a baby's lullaby cycled about every 7 minutes from the medic tent. I assumed disciplined Kathryn had actually set an alarm clock while out in the woods and was slapping the snooze button.  After nearly a half dozen cycles, she and Dixie emerged with Kathryn commenting,"Wow, I guess I was really tired."

Shortly thereafter, we were cramming our sleeping bags into their stuff sacks and Kathryn shared how she had simply rented a car, one-way, from Seattle to Breckenridge. She and Dixie set off on their 390 mile adventure to Durango and she did not need to be back in Seattle for nearly a month.  Her challenges from work and the sting from an ended relationship fueled her adventure where she soon discovered that with no one to talk to, "I'm constantly in my own thoughts."  Initially, she was alright with the breakup, but found herself dwelling on the topic and began to question many things, including herself and her life.

With much admiration, I listened and discovered myself very intrigued with Kathryn's story and found her very interesting. Here was a lady in her prime, struggling with some obstacles in life and was solving them by challenging herself with an incredible adventure by tackling the Colorado Trail, alone. Adaptable, self-sufficient and extremely pleasant, Kathryn later gave thanks to everyone and strolled out of camp with Dixie trotting at her side. 

Kathryn had several more weeks and hundreds of miles to go, but I have no doubt she found peace.  She was wandering around in the best therapy session life has to offer and surely experienced its powerfully good medicine.