NO ADVENTURE

WITHOUT ADVERSITY

By Captain Barold Brock

It’s said there’s no adventure without adversity. We proved that true on a mountain pass in Colorado.

There’s a world of people who fall into the five-day-a-week work rut, mow the lawn on Saturday and put their feet up on Sunday. Luckily, we firefighters who have a love of adventure can avoid that trap by taking advantage of solid pay checks and a schedule that offers us time to explore. We know that real regret stems from opportunities not pursued.

No one wants to hear a story about a perfect vacation that featured only sunny days and icy margaritas. Captivating stories are all about imperfect days, near misses, and hurricanes - although if you stick to the Hollywood formula, the tale should wrap up with a happy ending.

Our tale began as a typical dream to see some of the Continental Divide and the deserts of Utah, on motorcycles - an exciting option for extended travel and adventure. Pickup trucks may have heat and radios, but adventure bikes combine camaraderie and outdoorsy-ness, and run the gamut from comfortable to hardcore. The fact that you can count on fifty mpg average really helps to tip the scales.

So, there we were...my buddy and I on the top of one of Colorado’s many mountain passes. Riding dual sport machines (often referred to as adventure bikes), we quickly realized that even in June, snow plowing was in full swing and the pass wasn’t clear. Almost but not quite.

The mountain was angry that day, my friends. As we rode through a trough of plowed snow eight feet high, I could barely see my buddy through the blizzard. High altitudes and carburetors seldom happily coexist. With a distinct lack of power and my own unsuccessful demonstration of knot-tying skill to secure luggage, I first thought of turning around. Higher still, with one underpowered bike lying on its side and an impressive display of baggage scattered on the trail, I realized … this is adventure! I thought again about turning around but kept reminding myself that there is no adventure without adversity. We aren’t tourists in this life, but travelers. I found myself oddly comforted by the thought that I was too old to die young at this point.

We pressed on and eventually, near the precipice, met the heavy snow-removing equipment. Much like good marines, we wanted to adapt and overcome, but this obstacle conveniently removed the disgrace of retreating and forced a decision upon us.

The timing was good. I had already begun to contemplate whether fewer fingers and toes would be deemed as sexy as the one-eyed pirate look!

We decided to turn around and headed back to a lower altitude, remembering that discretion is the better part of valor. We began the ride of shame, beaten and disgraced at the end of our unsuccessful attempt at the summit.

Even at that lower altitude, we were still frozen but suddenly....there it was. In a beam of sunlight at the side of the motorway, was a sign that read: Hot Springs. With rising optimism, we found the front counter and asked if we could go in and stave off hypothermia. Happily, we discovered that we could rent time in the Grotto by the hour, but with some important provisos. We were told that the Hot Springs community was free-spirited and considered clothing optional. Given that our options at that point were to warm up or die, we decided to jump in and soon found ourselves neck deep in a hippie commune stew – wearing our best Hawaiian shorts. Good times.

The best thing about adventure travel is that, if it’s done properly, you’ll be uncomfortable, exhausted, hungry, scared and may even resort to sucking your thumb. Much like going to prison for a short stint, adventure greatly improves your appreciation for the comforts of civilization and, eventually, of home.

Signing off for now, urging you to consider that attitude is everything—and that it takes a village to raise an idiot.

Happy Trails

I FOUND MYSELF ODDLY COMFORTED BY THE THOUGHT THAT I WAS TOO OLD TO DIE YOUNG AT THIS POINT.