Exponential Pales
Last week- Wednesday, Thursday, Friday- I rolled my wheelchair from North Conway up route 302 into Crawford Notch.
Wednesday night I thought I went really far but that was okay because as far as I got was only half way since I rolled all the way back to North Conway.
Thursday I got that late start mentioned in the last entry here and gee but I thought I had gone really far because I went almost as far away from North Conway as I had the day before. Through luck and generosity and local people's "like-mindedness" I managed a ride back into North conway on Thursday night. Although in a certain sense the hiking and collaborating went on till quite late, in another sense I hadn't gone nearly as far as I thought.
This was revealed to me on Friday when I actually did travel from North Conway to the Appalachian Mountain Club's lodge at the top of Crawford Notch. Turns out all the really good uphill and all the really spectacular mountain scenery doesn't even start till a ways past my end point of the previous two days. Gosh but I was slightly embarassed to have been thinking I had just about knocked out the ride the past two days and for thinking I was justified in feeling that I had acomplished something. Route 302 through Crawford Notch is an exponential sort of journey. Every half mile is super awesome and super great-- but it all pales in comparison to the subsequent half mile.
I went from finally achieving strong focus and aggressive cadence to pushing even harder with clenched jaw. This went to hard push with jaw agape. Then I realised just how big my surroundings were and I surged onward sort of carrying my jaw in my lap. Finally the hills formed the road into something marvelously challenging in the midst of sublime beauty. I inched along working harder than I had all day. I wasn't even amazed looking anymore, I was simply wearing a giant smile, so happy to be there experiencing, so grateful for such a magificent possibility.
The crest of the hill drew me through itself. In the way of the spasmodic tumult of child birth I exited the mountainous containment of the notch and apeared upon a plain. Soft, serene, and sunny- I was quite moved, overwhelmed at first, but my calmness returned. In a sense this all was like being born- optimism, then hope, then commitment, then physicality, then agony, then release, and finally a sort of informed quiet.
Wednesday night I thought I went really far but that was okay because as far as I got was only half way since I rolled all the way back to North Conway.
Thursday I got that late start mentioned in the last entry here and gee but I thought I had gone really far because I went almost as far away from North Conway as I had the day before. Through luck and generosity and local people's "like-mindedness" I managed a ride back into North conway on Thursday night. Although in a certain sense the hiking and collaborating went on till quite late, in another sense I hadn't gone nearly as far as I thought.
This was revealed to me on Friday when I actually did travel from North Conway to the Appalachian Mountain Club's lodge at the top of Crawford Notch. Turns out all the really good uphill and all the really spectacular mountain scenery doesn't even start till a ways past my end point of the previous two days. Gosh but I was slightly embarassed to have been thinking I had just about knocked out the ride the past two days and for thinking I was justified in feeling that I had acomplished something. Route 302 through Crawford Notch is an exponential sort of journey. Every half mile is super awesome and super great-- but it all pales in comparison to the subsequent half mile.
I went from finally achieving strong focus and aggressive cadence to pushing even harder with clenched jaw. This went to hard push with jaw agape. Then I realised just how big my surroundings were and I surged onward sort of carrying my jaw in my lap. Finally the hills formed the road into something marvelously challenging in the midst of sublime beauty. I inched along working harder than I had all day. I wasn't even amazed looking anymore, I was simply wearing a giant smile, so happy to be there experiencing, so grateful for such a magificent possibility.
The crest of the hill drew me through itself. In the way of the spasmodic tumult of child birth I exited the mountainous containment of the notch and apeared upon a plain. Soft, serene, and sunny- I was quite moved, overwhelmed at first, but my calmness returned. In a sense this all was like being born- optimism, then hope, then commitment, then physicality, then agony, then release, and finally a sort of informed quiet.
posted by Sean at 11:05 AM
1 Comments:
Two things-
Firstly, what is Phentermine?
Secondly, an astute reader asked me if I remember my birth. I have no clue what it is like to actually be born or even to give birth. Just that the mountains were wide and encompassing and continually narrowing. Finally the road was stepest, the walls on each side most close. Suddenly the road was flat and the surroundings much more open.
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