Never Again

This summer I went on a backpacking trip up a mountain about 6 hours away from where I live. We had the best luck all the way up and down that 8,000 ft mountain, only for it all to nearly fall apart at the end.

First we got down, only to realize I couldn't find the keys to my car. 3 hours from cell-phone reception. Miraculously, after a half-hour of searching I found them lodged into my ruck harness - presumably where they had landed when I was quickly packing that morning, despite 6 hours of hiking over rough terrain. That by itself could have turned pretty ugly.

But we got on the road, and drove 3 hours to my friend's hometown, only to eat a bunch of food and burn a bunch of time because we were tired and indecisive. By the time I finally get on the road I've been up 12 hours, hiked down a mountain, and had about 6 hours sleep in the last 48. Alone on the straightest, most boring road you can imagine - and it's getting dark.

After about an hour, I pull off to the side because I'm getting groggy. But with traffic whipping past me I don't want to stop there. In retrospect, I should have slept right then and there. But I don't, I get back on the road and call my friends to see if they want to meet up and drive my car. Only there's nowhere to stop, and I'm barely hanging on at this point.

Eventually we figure out that there's a rest area (the only one for hours in either direction) up ahead that I can pull into and wait in. So now I've got my window open and my radio blasting and I'm drinking water and trying to keep my eyes open. I see the familiar blessed sign - and it informs me that there is a rest area in 9.5 miles. That's like an eternity to me at this point.

Semis are blasting past me on the other side of the two-lane highway with their bright beams disorienting as hell, and their shocking passage is terrifyingly close at this point. I finally see the rest area sign again - 2 miles to go. Dear god, this is brutal.

The cars behind me are getting close as I slow down because I DO NOT WANT TO MISS THIS EXIT. But their beams make me further disoriented, and at this point I figure I have about 5 minutes left before I'll just fall asleep. I've already heard the rumblestrip a couple times, and I figure this is it. I see the familiar blue rest area sign (my vision is so bad at this point it's hard to focus on anything more than that) - 3/4 mile. No shit. I remember being infuriated at this. Who the hell plants so many signs for a damn rest area?

The last 1/2 mile brought me to my limit. I had started the day at the top of a mountain, and now I was about to die like a fucking idiot. I pretty much lost control of my speed at this point, coasting along at 10 under and focusing entirely upon the course and staying awake. I see the final sign up ahead, but to add insult to injury a huge line of semis zooms past me in the other direction. It felt like a gauntlet. In the end I'm barely able to limp off the road and into the rest area parking lot, where I fall asleep almost instantly.

I woke up one hour later with my friend knocking on the window with a concerned smile. She got some coffee and then drove us home. I'm never doing that to myself ever again.

More stories of near death experiences can be found in this thread. There's one about a kayaker on a Class 5 rapid that made me wince, and then want to write my own.