Saturday, August 7, 2010

Back Down The Rabbit Hole

Taking Mondays and Wednesdays off is possibly the best idea I've had since I've been here. For one, I don't waste time sitting in my office doing nothing anymore, I am actually out being busy and I love it. Plus I don't burn out as easily because I work four days on, one day off, one (office day) on, one off.

This week I decided to go down South Kaibab Trail to do my study. I would have had to go there eventually, but because I injured (or reinjured) my knee, I had no choice. There's nowhere you can stop on Bright Angel that isn't a mile and a half or more down. It's too hot to sit anywhere along that trail.

So I arrived at South Kaibab, went to go set up and was promptly kicked out by trail crew. They're working on the first set of switchbacks, aka about half a mile of trail and 200 feet of elevation change. I now had to make a choice, I could hike down on a bum knee and sit out all day half a mile down trail, or I could abandon my study until I was better.



Naturally, I hiked down the switchbacks. The crew was stopping traffic on the trail every ten minutes or so for fifteen to twenty minutes of waiting, so attempting to do my interviews meant a lot of diffusing first. I let people complain to me--even though, I, like them, have been burdened by this construction. It didn't seem to matter to people, all they wanted to do was catch the bus.



The first day wasn't so terrible--I just kept looking up the switchbacks and thinking to myself, "yeah, this is going to hurt." For the five or so hours I was down there, the thought of having to climb out never left my mind. I just took is slowly up the trail and didn't care who I was stopping up. I don't get why people are in such a hurry, I really don't. You're just going to kill yourself running up this trail and see that it's only going to take five minutes to get on a bus back to the visitor's center.

I really just don't get people sometimes.

For instance, there was a Chinese woman who knew minimal English. When she reached the trail stopping point, she was babbling, incoherent, shaking, and was no longer sweating. It took all of one second for me and the other volunteer from trail crew (whose job it was to stop traffic down below the switchbacks) to realize this woman had some sort of heat-related illness.

It was about 1:00 in direct sunlight, and I'd seen her hike down at 11:00. I asked her when the last time she had anything to eat or drink was, and with her limited abilities, she just pointed up. As in, she took a swig from the water fountain up top--two hours ago. I made her sit down in the shade, got my extra bottle of water I always carry and forced it to her. I didn't have anything salty, but then again, I hadn't planned on being down there for so long either (thanks to lack of knowing TC was out there).

She sat on a rock, her hands shaking, and I could hear the triathlete couple behind me talking. I caught "they must have stopped her right in time," and "she doesn't look good." It didn't help the situation that we were essentially cut off down below where everyone else was, I'd forgotten my radio (read: didn't plan to be there), and had an onlooking crowd of twelve people.

When the trail opened, I did my best to make her stay sitting in the shade so one of us could go get someone with a radio to call it in. She babbled at me in Chinese, hugged me, and flew up the trail. We did all that we were able to do.




The second day was better--I was over the feeling of anger I had towards trail crew (for the most part). I just don't like being treated like some kind of idiot and being talked down to like I was the day before. I had seriously stood and been lectured at for fifteen minutes like I was five years old. I really didn't appreciate that, on top of the knee, and I really did not want to go back a second day.

I've been noticing that because I'm a VIP here (volunteer-in-park), people treat me like I'm some kind of deficient. People also ask me what high school I go to. Because I look 16, right? I never really say anything to anyone, but it really bothers me how some full-timers will treat volunteers--I mean, hell, this isn't my JOB. I don't get a SALARY like they do. I'm doing this on a living stipend! How about a "thanks" or a "welcome!"?



The only thing worse than going back is to not go back, so I sucked it up and went back down the trail. Where I was promptly stalked by a squirrel. It locked eyes on my pack at 9:00 and didn't leave me alone all day.



It's creepy how they sit behind rocks, lean back on two legs, and look at you from just over the rock.

1 comments:

Jessica said...

OMG, that picture of the squirrel! I love it!