I was working years ago when we were asked if we wanted to participate in a trial. It was all fun, one of those animal personality profile tests, the ones that identify you as a lion, an otter, a golden retriever or a beaver.
Now, after a while, you will get to know me and it will not be difficult to recognize which of these represents me best. But at first I have a tendency to withdraw and what you initially see is a watered down version of myself. However, it isn’t long before the real me begins to emerge.
One particular day comes to mind. It was a day full of noises, faces, caricatures and unleashed energy. Walk alone, entertain myself. I walked up to a blind corner, completely immersed in my own world, you know, smelling the red number, when suddenly I heard the rustling of a wrapper. It was then that I noticed the four hikers looking at me with wide eyes.
I instantly went from relaxed to firm. I paused, shoulders tense and squeezing my right hand with my left. After what seemed like an eternity, I smiled nervously and said, «Snack time, Hugh. Do you mind if I join you?»
To my delight, they agreed to my request, so I sat with them for some time, sharing jokes and exchanging trail names. It just so happened that the target they had set was the same camp I was aiming for that day.
That’s how it works sometimes on the road. You meet new faces, they become friends, and eventually you consider them family. What wasn’t typical was that, for a brief moment, they saw a side of my personality that normally takes a while to emerge. However, they accepted me.
And that was my introduction to what would turn out to be my trail family. What started as four became five, then six, seven, eight, five again, and then nine. Always evolving, sometimes more. What hurt less was the unexpected. But I would never stand in someone else’s way. I would wish them well and then I would quietly find a place away from everyone to hide my tears.
We walk. We plan. We help each other. We laugh. We cry. We are family.
At one time we had walked approximately thirty miles. Everyone in the group was tired. By then they already knew me and watched me jumping as if I had only walked ten. Now I was sore and tired too, but I was hesitant at a tent site. Finally someone asked, «Ducks, what are we doing? We’ve passed several tent sites.»
I looked up. I looked down. I looked around. I smiled and said, «This is a good one.»
What he knew (and what he was looking for) would become evident several days later, while sitting around a campfire. The sounds of the night and our voices were suddenly drowned out by something in the distance. At first it sounded like a simple stream, then a rustling sound, followed by a thunderous sound that you couldn’t see in the dark but could feel under your feet. A crash.
Everyone looked at me.
What had he done?
It was not something I had done, but what I knew and what I had been looking for days before. It is called widow: branches or entire trees that can fall, creating a very dangerous situation.
I’m sure you’ve already recognized that my personality animal is the otter: playful, energetic and expressive. What is not always recognizable is my other side, the Lion: protective, observant, conscious.
In trail families we have lions, otters, golden retrievers and beavers. We have chefs, air traffic controllers, writers, photographers, poets, all of them important.
Who am I?
I am an astronaut who has never had any official training and has never been to space.
I am an otter and a lion.
I’m Duckets.
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