This past weekend Auspicious signs started to turn against me, and I have begun to wonder if Fate has some serious atonement in store for me. I don't know exactly what I should be repentant for, so many personal limitations, hard to say, but sometimes just being an American is enough to rile my blood and puke in disgust. I am resentful at my inability to achieve the success I yearn for; what is it that is obstructing my motion. Recently, little things trouble me: like a flat tire, forgetting to pay my credit card bill on time, sleeping in past an appointment, a bad dream of a spider eating off my head (spurred on by Strauss' Salome).
A storm started to brew as I drove on highway 242 past the lava highlands leading to Mt. Washington, sliding almost out of control, almost off the road. An outsider could reflect and say, "No Gabe," that is not bad luck, that is just stupid unpreparedness, and reckless impulsiveness. Today Dick Brown alluded my floundering to a Niel Young song, "running in circles." My Grandma tells me I am always living on the edge and taking risks, implying that if I take enough risks I am bound to have a run in with the gods every now and again. I say, "Grandma, don't be an old dotard; get off that old walker of yours, and go for a jog, live on the edge, you might like it, it might bring some energy into your life." She says, "Are you crazy, I would have heart attack." She might be right, and I worry about her. I might even start listening to her a bit more; but not if I have to sacrifice all the adventure! I loathe a boring dull life!
Anyways, this Saturday I began driving to Bend to support the South team at the Puma Invitational. But as I approached the city I felt this strong pull away from the meet, call it a state of aporia, depression, whatever, but somehow I knew that I was in no position to be supportive, positive influence to a team that I love and respect. Instead I went to a park on the Deschuttes river in downtown Bend and read Nietzsche's "Genealogy of Morals." Of course the reading made me even more reflective as I pondered phenomenology of myself as Artist and Creator; but the truth is that I was shirking my responsibility, being a terrible role model. And all of this supercilious philosophising was nothing but hurtful to myself and my relationships! But I couldn't help myself; I was possessed! I had to read on: what does Nietzsche mean by "Good" and "Evil," "Guilt," "Shame," and the "Ascetic Ideal?" Is he completely off his rocker, is he MAD? Is he making me mad? Usually, after reading Nietzsche I need to heal with St. Thomas Aquinas, Schopenhauer, Plato; God help me see the VIRTUE in humanity! I tell you, Nietzschian thought and scepticism has been the main reason I RUN. Thinking too much brings on melancholia. Like I have said before, "Action is thy only salvation." Overly consumed reflection is dangerous for your body and your mind. Better to run. Yet, one with out the other is hopeless. After all, as Schopenhauer points out, it is ability to Will and abstract that gives the human oversoul the ability to deliberate into the future, cut out a mold of phenomenal substance to play and harmonize. For me, it remains a balancing act. Perhaps, Ralph Waldo Emerson grounds me best by essaying a sort of "practical power" as a virtue generating maxim.
Anyways, after reading "The Genealogy" and blowing off my commitments I started driving in desperation to the South Sister on the eastern edge of the Cascades. Earlier this summer the South Axemen had summitted the South Sister on the final day of their summer preseason camp from the campsite at Elk Lake, just a few miles from Devil's Lake. Unfortunately, at the time I had missed the opportunity for a joint climb by about an hour, tardy for my rendezvous with the team. Consequently, I have been curious about the South Sister ever since. With my head full of Nietzsche and insatiable curiosity I now found myself driving along Centennial Avenue with a quarter tank of Gas and a partially flat back tire--a test of faith? Or just stupidity? I pulled into Devil's Lake at about 3:30pm, and set off for the summit via the climber's trail without any of the usual provisions for such an effort: all I wore was running shoes, Munich pants, motorcycle gloves and a pendleton long sleeve; no food, water, nothing. Mean clouds had been brewing all day, with storming winds and rain at the lower elevations. Less than a mile into my ascent the snow started falling. Pretty soon I was running through a foot of snow in a blizzard. I generated enough heat by running to stay warm, but my face started to get wind chill from the frigid blizzard on the windward side of my face. At about 8,000 ft I lost all traces of the trail in about 2 ft of snow. Without hesitation I kept trucking straight up the mountain. In fact, it was a relief to leave the trail, the invisible trail that is. I just went straight up the most direct route, navigating around rocks and stumps. The snow was fresh, just having fallen that morning, so even with running shoes, I was able to get good traction. Climbing at a steep vertical I used my gloves to pull myself up. At about 6pm I figured I was less than 1,000 ft from the summit, but I couldn't hardly see more than 10 ft ahead of me in the blizzard. One side of my face was completely frozen, my beard was an icicle, my hands were frozen! I reached this rocky bluff outlook, with the wind almost blowing me off the opposite side of the cliff. There was no more going up; I had reached a sort of perch, so I either needed to go back down and angle around the butte, or I needed to jump off a 20 ft ledge in order to continue my climb. It took me about 2 seconds. "I am going home, get me off this mountain."
After a string of defeats, luck seemingly against me, I am forlorn and miserable. I want all of this insecurity to stop. But the road ahead looks impossible, impassible. My enemies seem to close in around me at ever corner; at every turn new obstacles turn up.
This weekend I intend on supporting the South Axemen at a Portland Cross Country invitational. I think I will take the bus this time! With Districts next week and the High School State Championships in three weeks, the high school season is proving much more exciting than my own. Sammy, our star senior and State leader with a 15:44 posting at Nike PreNats, is capable of turning some major heads and winning a State Title! Yesterday, Sammy and I hammered away at a string of 7 kilometers of race pace on Amazon trail--meaning K's in 3:00 to 3:10. That was encouraging for both of us.
A new year is upon us!
Gabriel
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