Fear of adventure
Fear and great anticipation. But mostly gut-aching fear. That’s what I’m feeling right now.
It’s 3:00 a.m. Darkness is pressing in on all sides of our bedroom.
Three weeks from now I’ll be sliding my canoe into the icy, turquoise, swift current of the Yukon River to begin my solo adventure quest to retrace the 1898 Klondike gold rush. Seven weeks later, above the Arctic Circle, I’ll haul my canoe out of the water 1,500-km downstream and pack my gear into a float plane to head home. Rapids, whirlpools, extreme wilderness and a mega adventure will all lie behind me.
“Are you crazy?!” How many times have I heard those words not asked, but declared to my face over the past years of training. Now they’re echoing around in my head.
“You’ve just turned 60! What would ever make you decide to take this wilderness trip alone — and in grizzly bear territory?!”
Lying in my bed right now the words sound like the voice of reason — even great wisdom. The darkness presses in harder. The ache in my stomach increases a notch.
“It will all make sense in the daylight,” I argue back weakly.
Unconvinced, self-doubt whispers back. “But why do this!”
Again it’s not a question, but a statement.
“Because!” something inside me shoots back. “Just because you’re 60 doesn’t mean you have to abandon fun and adventure and challenge!” My words are almost loud enough to wake my wife — a reluctant supporter of my trek.
“I choose adventure!”
Looking quickly at her, I mouth an inaudible “Sorry.”
It’s been a seven-year journey of preparation to get to this point. Physically I’m ready. As if checking off items on a list, I review them now: Every year I’ve been climbing 5,000 flights of stairs a year, cycling 500 km, working out at the gym 70 to 80 times, as well as canoeing, hiking and skiing.
And I’m not just talking about physical preparation, but emotional too. Some people can’t stand being alone or being unplugged from MP3s or cell phones for weeks. Many solo canoe trips into Algonquin Park in the late fall have shown me that I love silence and solitude.
Confidence slowly pushes the haunting voices to the back of my mind. Confidence makes a shy appearance.
It’s not going to be always easy, but it’s going to be one heck of an adventure! A victorious image flickers in my mid — it’s the end of the trip, the Alaskan Arctic village appears around the river bend, I raise my paddle and twirl it over my head, whooping with delight.
I can feel a flood of adrenaline.
Peering into the darken room, the shadows seem less threatening. Perhaps it’s lightened a bit with approaching dawn.
I nudge my pillow, plop my head firmly down into it, and close my eyes. My heart has settled. Fear has somehow disappeared, and anticipation is walking out onto the stage.
Night fears are usually irrational, especially if they involve imminent adventure trips. Make a list, review your options, and you’ll feel better. Repeating this mantra helps me sleep sounder.
Comments (13)
This is great. I know what you're going through.Go for it everything will be fine.
Submitted by Sylvain on Thursday, June 14, 2012
Allen,
Another excellent blog, and I hate that word. Although it accurately describes most blogs, it does no service to yours. Your blog is well written, it involves the reader in your emotional turmoil. We fear with you, we long for you to reach out to your wife wake her gently and tell her, I’m not going, but you’re made of sterner stuff than that. You like Hamlet take up arms against a sea of fears, and like Hamlet you emerge victorious.
Fear conquered, perhaps, not really, but at least you’ve made it subside to the point where rational thought and preparation have control. You’re ready, you’ve weighed the options, and yes you’re ready. In the end, after 1500 kilometers of continuous effort, you will stand on a shore, muscles aching, blisters crying for salve and a sense of accomplishment that silences all pain and banishes fear.
Now after Herculean effort, battling rapids, portages, aches, solitude, and perhaps even the occasional bear sighting, you place your life in someone else’s hand as you climb into a small float plane to begin the happy journey home. After weeks of self reliance will this be the hardest moment of the trip? It might be.
Adventurers are a breed apart, they live for the effort, not for the moment as some might suggest, but for the entire trip, from the first thought of doing it to the final step back into your wife’s arms. You live for this adventure, and beyond. Later will come the stories, greedily consumed by those of us with the same dreams, but far less courage. Go with God Allen, live your dream and spit in the face of fear. Fear is only one consequence of daring, others are success accomplishment and pride. Beat fear with the promise of these and come back rejuvenated and rejoicing in your victory.
Fair winds and following seas my friend and may angels lead the way!
Submitted by John on Thursday, June 14, 2012
I'm getting excited for you and you haven't even left yet. Excellent blog!
Submitted by Lloyd on Saturday, June 16, 2012
You're a great story-teller Dad. Less than a week, wow! We wish you beautiful weather, and relatively mosquito-free evenings. We are looking forwards to seeing all the amazing pictures and hearing your tales of adventure.
Submitted by Chantal on Monday, June 18, 2012
Wednesday (tomorrow) is my last day at work, the chocolate (1/4 lb per day for two months) is almost all packed, and the adrenaline is pumping hard. A week from today I'll be hiking parts of the Chilkoot Trail. Then it's back to Whitehorse to buy more chocolate, load the canoe, and head north on the river. Can't wait! Neither can the mosquitoes! :>)
Submitted by Allen Macartney on Tuesday, June 19, 2012
I will follow your adventures for sure hopefully not on TC time ;)
Submitted by Line B. on Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Have a lot of fun in the land of the midnight sun. Just don't let your chocolate melt. Then again, you can always ask a grizzly to lick it off of your fingers.
:)
Submitted by Bernie on Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Have a wonderful time on your great journey. Wish you a safe and spiritual trip.
Submitted by Nina Martin on Thursday, June 21, 2012
I will be following your blog and praying for you. So exciting!
Submitted by Sherri Towaij on Thursday, June 21, 2012
Tomorrow's the big day... and we are very excited for you. Go for it Allen! Will be fun to follow you in this adventure of a lifetime. Our prayers are with you for good health, sheer enjoyment and for protection too.
Submitted by Tim and Vivien on Saturday, June 23, 2012
What a great way to celebrate your 60th Allen! Your story had me completed fascinated on the flight from Kelowna to Vancouver... I wish you all the best and look forward to following up on your adventure!
Submitted by Mandy on Monday, June 25, 2012
I think you are amazing and admire your perspective on life. We should all think like that. I wish you all the best during your adventure. You're an inspiration to us all!
Submitted by Christiane on Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Hey mister, got that canoe wet yet? Thinking about you and the adventure about to begin. Hope it is fantastic in every way and gives you a lifetime of stories to share.
Submitted by geoff m on Thursday, June 28, 2012
Leave a comment