‘Not long to go now’ he says, walking just behind as we walk up the steep track. “I thought today was all flat” … (my mind escapes the short incline ahead)
‘It is, just over the hill and it’s all flat from there’
“Ok” (one step in front of the other)
‘Karina, WATCH OUT!’
…
“Fk”
…
As I slipped off the side of the track, I knew I’d done some damage to my leg. Still, we had 13kms to go and the shuttle was picking us up from the car park. We had to keep going, one step at a time, we walked out.
I lost the track that day.
And I lost a lot of fear too.
Resilience maybe, kept me going.
Or the thought of a hot shower and home.
As we get seated, one glance around this bar has me staring in amazement, shaking my head, eyes wide and gasping, while awaiting a throw in from the crowd. Much amusement is had in here as we park our arse down and receive our prize. First a pretzel, then a snap, a crackle and finally, a pop, here goes… followed by a glass of guess who and a game of drafts, bring the cheque. Back at the fear ground, honesty is the main attraction here, as we’re shunted along like logs in a drain. If the shoe fits…
KF
How is it that I came back from this walk to paint a landscape interpretation and end up painting a clowns shoe?
Some things we’ll never understand.
How many are you.
There.
The wild Humpridge Track, New Zealand
