The Continental Divide Trail: Mount Princeton Hot Springs on Colorado Trail (CDT/CT Collegiate East)

We shit, we ate, we conquer

«Don’t look back. Something could be closing in on you.»

— Paige Wallet

tThe average human bowel movement takes between ten and fifteen minutes from start to finish. But there are champions on both ends of that data point. Some people can easily get a clean, almost wipe-free poop out in record time, and there are others who try to finish a fall poop before winter hits. Toolman is one of the latter, and he had managed to get to the small single bathroom in the narrow hotel room before anyone else that morning.

I felt the churning of my insides, the familiar pressure in my lower abdomen. We had eaten well the night before; The hotel had a public grill outside that we used to the fullest, plus as many snacks and drinks as we could literally handle. But what goes in must come out, and right now he was knocking, knocking, knocking on Zen’s door. He was not alone.

«So,» Dij said. «Does it usually take this long? Is it okay in there?»

Frito half laughed. «You have no idea. He probably just dropped his pants.»

«He usually showers afterwards too,» Ice Cream added.

My intestines buckled at the first rumblings of revolt. «There’s a restaurant down the street. Shits and breakfast, anyone?»

Everyone was depressed. “Tool man!” Ice Cream said through the cheap and probably hollow bathroom door.

«Yes,» the answer was a no question.

«Let’s go to the restaurant down the street. Meet us there.»

«Yes,» again.

It was a short walk down the street passing an eclectic antique store sporting a flag that read: Everything hurts and I’m dyingand an eyeless mannequin that came to life at night, haunted by the spirit of the store owner’s dead son.

We shit, we ate, we conquered. Toolman never made it, God bless his damn loot. We packed up, cleaned up, and left, loading into Toolman’s truck in the manner now practiced: Ice Cream and Frito in the cab, Dij and I in the bed with all the backpacks. The trailhead arrived, the usual plans to meet Toolman were made, and we were back on the trail. Dij and I outpaced Ice Cream and Frito at a pace closer to their natural stride, and relentlessly smoked their marijuana vaporizer until we lost it.

“Do you have the vaporizer?”

«I thought so.»

«Well, fuck.»

«Indeed. We’ll get another one in town.»

***

Tall and feeling good, I overtook Dij, but only because he took a wrong turn down a dead-end road and had to turn back. Now, alone for the first time in a long time, I enjoyed a ride that was actually on the red line (I think). The high sun, the blue sky, the fresh air, took me back in time. I was eighteen again, fresh out of high school and on the lonely roads of Colorado with only my backpack and my thoughts. But the world had changed and now I had a phone instead of a spiral road atlas, and the phone played music. traveling show by Road Band Songs. The song reflected the arc of my life to me from the perspective of a bluegrass band.

And there I was, on the road, more than twenty years later, better than ever, with my heart swollen with gratitude. My brother had shot him in the brain with a .22 caliber bullet for the same reason I almost did. A demon whispering from the depths of karma had taken possession of all of my mother’s children. Sometimes I can still feel it there, far below, but it is weak and dying. Today he had been chained, gagged, and thrown into the molten volcano of a grateful heart. But even those flames cannot completely destroy the lingering darkness. There are still bigger fires.

The road opened to a view below, filled not with a wild valley but with the expanse of the Mount Princeton Hot Springs Resort. At the bottom of the hill I came to an intersection and consulted my map. The trail went to the right, but a quarter mile to the left was a store. The comments said it had food. I sent a Garmin to the rest and went left.

The store was just what I wanted. Shitty gas station stuff and cold drinks. I picked him up and took him back to the intersection in case they hadn’t gotten the message. Dij was first, followed shortly after by Ice Cream and Frito.

“I took a wrong turn,” Dij explained. «I liked my music and suddenly private property was a dead end. I thought, ‘Fuck!'» He said fuck in his characteristic way, fast, sharp, kind of funny.

«Shit!» I repeated the same way. «Consolation prize on the way. Pizza, ice cream, all the usual stuff.»

We hiked tearing up the place while eating snacks. Hot spring guests walked back and forth, many of them in bathrobes and flip-flops, and paid no attention to us. No doubt they had seen hungry, homeless-looking people in worn-out slippers before, or they thought that if they ignored us we would leave.

***

We left. Left. Paved road, dirt road, trail, back to the hills and heights as the sun set and faded in divine rays through the trees. The afternoon wind rose and shook the aspens and pines. The night was cold. The cool morning. Toolman waited somewhere ahead, doing Toolman things, and beyond, the town of Salida.

“I can’t wait to get back to Salida,” Dij said. “I love that city.”

We were sitting in a small clearing, taking a break and waiting for Ice Cream and Frito. I wanted to ask what was so good about Salida, but before I could we heard laughter coming from the trail and then the voices of our friends. «Yeah!» Frito laughed. «I’m sorry, Mom and Dad. I know you did everything you could to raise me as a man with values, but I’ve come to the conclusion that living in my truck and selling drugs is the way to go.»

Ice Cream was blushing from laughing when they arrived. «You guys are having a great time,» I noted.

«What a great time! We had a few gummies there and Frito was telling me that he tried to tell his parents how he wants to… oh, I can’t explain it. It’s so funny.»

I love the way he says the funny thing, especially when he laughs. A rural post-Mennonite Pennsylvania accent inclines his words. laughter is lyaffunny has a longer ‘y’ and you can hear the joy in it.

«I’m glad,» I said.

Was. More than I can say and I can express almost anything in words.