GALAPAGOS ISLANDS
For several days now, I’ve been looking at the welcome picture on Cristen and Jim’s Outside Is the Best Side homepage. I suspect the feet in that photo are getting a well-deserved rest after hiking, climbing, or biking into a breath-taking expanse of solitude and wilderness.
I’ve seen similar soul-stirring views in my lifetime but from a unique perspective. Since I lost both of my legs thirty-eight years ago, it’s been my husband’s feet that have carried the two of us up mountains, along alpine creeks, through fields of June wildflowers, across bridges swinging high above rushing rivers, and beside crashing ocean waves. His footprints sink deep into the dusty trails, punctuated on either side with his pointy, trekking-pole tips. Occasionally, our frisky black lab’s paw prints can be seen sprinkled around Dave’s boot-prints.
Hikers trekking toward us always do a double take as they try to make sense of the two-headed person coming toward them. You see, I’m snugged up tight on Dave’s back seated on the little shelf of a hunter’s pack-frame, my face next to his. Oncoming hikers see two legs, two arms carrying trekking poles, a torso, and then those two heads. I add to their confusion with my chirpy, “Hi, how ya doin’? Aren’t you jealous?”
At this point their jaws drop, and they stop dead in their tracks. It’s hard to ignore this two-headed curiosity. My big grin grabs them, forcing a response. We chat for a bit: How far is it to the lake? How’s the trail? Anything but, Why are you riding on his back?
We know sure as shootin’ that they will stop again in a few feet, turn around, and take one last look at us before they shake their heads and move on. We giggle as I whisper sweet nothings in Dave’s ears and blow on the back of his neck to dry his sweat as he carries on.
Dave’s not very big. He’s about five feet ten inches tall and weighs 155 pounds. Many men have looked at him and figured that if he can carry me so can they. Many have generously volunteered to help him out, and some beg to carry me. If he can’t talk them out of it, he places the pack on their back and snugs the straps tightly over their shoulders and waist. Then he hoists me onto the pack and steadies them as they feel the reality of my ninety pounds pull on their back.
They lean forward, jiggle a little to get their balance, and take the first few steps. Usually they stop, bounce a little more, gingerly taking a few more small steps. Their pride may carry them a few hundred yards but usually no more. As they walk slower and slower, Dave moves up next to them, suggests that he’s rested now and can take over again. I feel their sigh of relief as he helps them lean over onto a rock, and I scoot backwards off the pack.
Now their looks say, How in the world does he do it?
Dave and I smile at each other as I grab the frame, pull myself back on, and slip my shoulders through the padded straps that hold me in place. I kiss the back of his neck and whisper, “I love you. You are the best ever.”
And that’s it. Love—the answer to why he can do things others can’t do. The reason his feet can carry us both to beautiful, breathtaking expanses of solitude and wilderness.
Originally posted on Outside Is The Best Side
This last beautifully written , as usual, blog, brought tears to my eyes. Just knowing the two of you is sheer delight. We love you.
Hi Linda, I just read your recent post and of course was enthralled by the story but even more impressed with the quality/development of your writing skills. The advances in story telling, Getting to know Dave in a real way and your personal sharing is noticeable and remarkable. Can’t wait to read your book!
Thanks, Rose.
Really, how does he do it?
Good question, Jack.
It’s always a pleasure to read your writings!!!! Keep it up 🙂
Beautiful and moving.
Love your stories of adventure. Keep on keeping on .
oh my!
your post put a smile on my face – and I carried the good feelings all day – especially as we are off to the Galapagos Island next year.. woo hoo!! –
thank you for sharing your wonderful energy – my meeting you in Tasmania was a special moment in my life….estelle
Thanks, Estelle. You will love it. You should go snorkeling every chance you get.
Having seen the described backpack resting in your garage, waiting for more adventures, I am still in awe. And I love your descriptions of the passers by on the trail. You are my hero. And a friend I cherish. edie
I have a dear friend whose husband has been in the ICU for several weeks, after multiple complications after an esophageal malignancy was removed. She was terribly conflicted about having to inform him of a lower extremity amputation. I immediately thought of my years with you. Your joy and laughter made us all love working with you. Your life has always been full of achievement, generosity and incredible value to all around you.
I sent my friend your blog. She signed up, now I see this post! As her husband becomes more lucid, I see you developing a new fan. You are leading us all to love and celebrate life. Thank you!
Oh Linda, your life and your writing are beautiful and inspirational as usual. Safe travels, my friend.
Your smile, chuckles, sense of humor and pure enjoyment of these adventures is infectious! Love your evolution as a story-teller writer.
Thanks, Lee. We’ve had a ball doing these things!