So I guess the big story from this past week was a tooth that just wanted to fall out, every. single. flippin. day. No worries though, it’s a fake tooth so all is well (except for the whole like, not staying in bit). Of all the challenges I figured I’d face at Rocky Mountain, having to use denture adhesive to re-glue my tooth on the daily was not one of them, though a good enough microcosm of what life can be like on a hitch (if you’re thrown enough curveballs by fate).
Things are going to go wrong, your tooth will fall out, (that one might just be me) tools will be dull, gas cans leak, you won’t have a protein component of dinner, ants end up in your bear bags, you will run out of salt, your latrine may be a 10 minute ‘strava-able’ hike from camp, you won’t have a cutting board, you’ll get blisters, you’ll have to pack up a wet tent and rain-fly at an hour entirely too early, or you’ll forget to bring your breakfasts for the week.
The point being: sometimes things go wrong, sometimes you’ll be uncomfortable, or sometimes it’ll just suck. Those moments, the ones where your tooth falls out, or your tool just isn’t cutting, or you’re wet and cold and gotta pack everything up before working/hiking out, are the ones that stick with you. It’s not just the type 2 and 3 fun that makes them memorable. It’s those moments where you lean on your team, and laugh together about the craziness of that moment. For me, getting to laugh about things with my team is when I feel the closest to them.
Each time my tooth fell out I’d flash a grin and we’d laugh at how crazy I looked covered in ash, hardhat on, and tooth missing. Learning to laugh with my crew in those moments is the solution. Laugh at how cold you all are packing up, laugh at how the Pulaski bounces off the root you’re cutting, laugh at the insanity of the life you get to live right now.
