27 Hills

Washington, USA | Healing | 2689 words |

This fictitious story explores mental illness and the struggles, doubts, and successes people experience in their attempts to heal. Inspired by a 25-day cycling trip in the summer of 2017 taken from British Columbia, Canada down to Portland, OR.

_________________________________________________________________________

I haul over, feeling my stomach trying to burst out out of my mouth. Nothing. Looking behind me I see the vast hill, and down from it the road strewn out against the plateaus. Breathing heavily, I turn to Nelson.

“How the hell did we make it up that thing?”

“Zig-zags” he breathes. “That’s the trick, told you they make uphill more bearable.”

8 days in and this is the largest hill we’ve had to ride up. I finally feel the strength to stand up properly. I stretch my hands out, grabbing the handles of my bicycle to pull it back up. My grip feels weaker, and the bike, loaded up with panniers on front and back, starts feeling heavier than before. Despite the pain, everything about the scene feels warm and profound. The hazy orange-pink sky, blended like a water colour painting on a warm evening with the dotted white lights of the next town just coming into visibility as the sun dims. We are not long from our next resting place.

“I’d say 45 minutes left.”

“I hope so” I reply. A small breeze brushes my face and I hear the faint whisper of air.

At first the distances were scary because of their length, but we grew to adapt. Day 1: 45km. Day 2: 75km. Day 3: 70km. Day 4: 115km. By Day 5, we had rhythm and our bodies attuned to movements of our bike and the motions of the land. The hospitality of strangers often welcomed our drained muscles, whether it be some apples for the road from a construction worker or an invitation to try some home brew from an old farmer. Distance became just a number. The terrain a serene challenge to my body. Strangers becoming old friends. The distances were now scary because of the time. Long rides left me alone with myself, with nothing but the wind in my face and clouds darkening in my mind.

I see Nelson’s face begin to light up, his eyes widening and grin stretching. No doubt about the downhill ride we were about to experience. Fast and coarse. The wind slapping your cheeks. He stares at me, eyes locked as he lifts his hand to his face, one finger pointed at the sky. He tilts his hand forward, finger now facing the direction of the road. In a second he is gone, and I am a few moments behind.

Downhill again, it’s gonna be a breeze providing that I watch my speed. Wind’s in my face again, I can feel my cheeks vibrating and the flood of air in my ears. It’s gotten a bit annoying, reminds me of my graduation. All this crap they pour into your ear like “oh congratulations” and “you’ve worked so hard” and all that nonsense. What the hell was I doing for five years? Sure I got some friends, did some things, but now what? I’m lost as ever again, maybe even more than before. I remember sitting there thinking why everyone seems so happy but me, then they call my name, I walk the stage, shake some old man’s hand and a bunch of other people I never bothered to learn the names of. Then I get my shiny piece of paper that is supposed to tell the world I can do things. What things? I still don’t even know. I think I want to go into marketing, right? Sure, I mean I liked it. I’m pretty sure. I have to have had, otherwise why would I have this paper after five years of work? Yeah, I definitely want to do it, definitely. Selling crap to people that don’t need it, that’s all it is right? I can make things sound better than they are, than they actually are, in reality, I think. After all that time surely I can, and surely I want to. I’m doing better. For sure, I’m doing better. I’ve got to be…

Nelson’s brakes skid on the grayed, worn tarmac. I’ve barely noticed we’ve rode all the way down the hill. He steps off his bike, and stares off the road down into a faint ditch, coloured with dark orange rock and peppered with murky green shrubs.

“Woah you see what I see?”

“Huh, I wonder how they got there. Probably some asshole.”

“I got an idea.” Nelson says as he slides down into the ditch, the rocks dragging on his shoes. He climbs back out with the small box in hand, two kittens inside. One an orange brown, almost like the rocks around it while the other is a dirty white. They both seem disheveled and worn out. Their little murmurs barley louder than the soft wind they’ve been exposed to for who knows how long. They don’t seem startled by our presence, almost as if they’ve given up on any form of salvation. Rather, they seem to have accepted the weight of their situation, and whatever may come. It’s like a fire had been put out, and all that’s left was the smoke, carelessly rising into the air.

Nelson grew another slight grin.

“I got some room in my front bag, I’ll drop these little guys in. We’re closer than I thought, I’d say maybe 20 minutes. Maybe we can find someone in town to help them tonight or in the morning. We might have some guests in our tent tonight, eh?”

“Yeah, sure” I blandly retorted. Could animals lose the will to live?

Back on the bike and only flat road left in our journey. What a treat. We cycle at a good pace, my feet making the same circular motion over and over again. Smoke. That’s all my insides are filled with, I can’t feel anything else. Every time I speak I feel like I exhale dust and charcoal. How much is left in this ride? Maybe I should go faster, tire out so I can fall asleep as fast as possible. I don’t wanna be awake like this. Damn it, 8 days in and I’m still thinking the same things over and over again. This is what she said to watch out for. Shit. It’s happening. Ok ok, just focus on the road. Feel the wind. See the sky.

It’s not turning off. I knew what she told me was bullshit, and she knows I’m no good at reasoning with myself. I guess maybe I was at one point, and the first few days weren’t so bad. Seriously though, if I can’t do it here how can I do it back home? I’m on the trip of a lifetime, and I still can’t stop thinking of what a scam all that “therapy” was and all those wasted conversations. Ah, but to be fair it probably wasn’t her. I mean, she’s a trained professional with a bunch of qualifications. What am I? Smoke. Nothing. I’ve been nothing for a long time. Funny how I’m realizing that on this trip. I probably should have just gone through with it, save everybody some time and money. Stop. I’ve really got to stop now. I think I’m sweating more. Ok, what did she say? Ground myself. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. It’s nagging pretty hard.

I take a deep breathe, the town is a few minutes away. The sky is slowly fitting deeper into its dark cloak. Stars’ll be out soon. That’ll be nice. Reminds me of camping out in the mountains with Jen, Matt, and Nelson. Makes me think of that other trip where I -

I hear the loud screech of tires. “What the hell are you doing!?” shrieks some lady as she swerves around me. I seem to have rode through the town’s first intersection on a red light.

“Christ man, are you ok? What happened?”

I take a moment to process what just occurred, and what Nelson just asked. I stare down at the dark road with closed eyes. It feels as if a hoard of bees is going to erupt out of me, swarming and vibrating my insides.

“What the hell am I doing here” I scream into Nelson’s face, spit landing on his cheek. I look down in shame a second later. “Hey man, I –”

“It’s alright. Let’s try to find some help for these guys, then we’ll find the campground” he replies, almost mechanically, but with intense eye contact.

As we ride it almost feels as if I’m waking from a hazy dream. For once, I feel clear. But there is this weight in my stomach, like I’ve swallowed an rough, jagged, metal ball. Music starts playing in my head, don’t know why. Beethoven? Maybe. Something with violins. The symphony carries me through the streets.

“Well, look at that.” Nelson says back to me as he points to a man, he seems to be locking the door in the front of a fairly sizable wooden building. It looks rather old, but the sign reads Grand Coulee Veterinary Clinic. Nelson turns left towards the man, who is small and round in stature. I follow.

“Excuse me, sir!” Nelson exclaims as the man turns towards us, looking a bit surprised at the appearance of our bikes. “We were hoping maybe you could help us, we found two kittens on the side of the road. Any idea of how we could help them?”

“Well,” he grunted as he came over to peer into the box. “Probably would’ve been best to let ’em fade away in peace.” Nelson’s mouth gapes open, in shock. Mine probably did too, it’s hard to tell.

“Would’ve been…” he continued “if ya didn’t find me!” he bellowed as a guttural laugh followed. Nelson didn’t seem impressed by his humour, but there was a sense of relief in his face.

“I’ll take these little ones home tonight, they look like they’ll be okay” he finished.

“Hey – uh – do animals…can animals…can they lose their will to live?” I murmured. I don’t know where that came from, but those words leaving my mouth shook me back into reality. Something was pulling me to ask it, I don’t know what. It’s like a puppeteer was pulling my tongue, strings hooked in, wanting to know the answer to this morbid question.

The man stood there, seeming to process the bewilderment of what I’d asked. I’m sure Nelson had a similar expression.

“I suppose” he said. He took hold of the cardboard box, almost cradling it. With a gentle smile he says “Can’t say I’ve seen it m’self.” He pauses.

“These kittens might not realize it right now, but they’re gonna be fine. Thank you gentlemen. If you’re lookin’ for the campsite, it’s just up the road, take a left down Twelve Mile road, and take that all the way ‘till y’see the sign for the campground. Not far from here.”

“Thank you so much” Nelson says with the raise of an open palm. He turns to me and tilts his head in the direction we are supposed to go. The wind is gone, but the air feels more vivacious, like I can feel every particle enter and leave my lungs. The haze is gone, and I see stars begin to dot the sky. The vastness of time overflows me as I ride, looking at these balls of burning gas, that have been burning for millions of years in the darkness. We ride past the shrubs and rock that seems to last for miles. In the distance a silhouette of a plateau. Tomorrow will bring another hill. Soon we turn into the campsite, illuminated by the faint moonlight. A gentle breeze brushes the leaves snug upon the branches of the trees. We are soon off our bikes, and unloading them to set up camp. I begin digging through my pannier, pulling out the tent and ground sheet. I take a few strides, spread them out, crouch down, and begin putting the poles together. I glance over at Nelson. What is he going to ask me? Probably something like “what the hell did you shout at me for?” or “why are you asking such messed up questions?” I don’t even know what to say. I never do. At least the kittens are gonna be fine.

My cheeks begin to feel wet. I lift my right hand and touch my cheek with two fingers. I’m crying? I’m crying. I think. At least there are tears coming from my eyes, but my voice is muted. Is this even proper crying? Jesus, I can’t even cry the right way. I cover my face with my hand. I hear a faint gasp, I think it came from me. There’s foot steps approaching. I wipe my face. Nelson begins to say something but I cut him off.

“I need to know something.”

“Sure man, what is it?”

“That night, up in Kananaskis, you remember right? Where I tried to…well I know you remember. Everyone remembers, how could anyone forget? Something is wrong in me. So, why did you think I could do this trip? I mean, we’ve got weeks left, and I…I just don’t know.”

“27 hills.”

I give him a puzzled look. “What?”

“We’ve done 27 huge hills. Well, there’s no real classification but I’ve been counting based on how out of breath we are at the top. After today the count is at 27. Didn’t know if we could do it, but look at us. Day 8 done!”

“What does that have to do with…”

“I didn’t say yes for you.” Nelson looks up at the stars. “I didn’t know if you could, just thought you might want to come. You said yes. If you had said no, that would’ve been it. No pestering, you know I’m not like that. But you said yes. You said yes.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t why I did.”

Nelson smiles “Probably ‘cause you’re messed up. I mean, no cycling experience beyond biking in the city, barely ever camped in a tent before. Yeah, what the hell were you thinking man?”

I let out an airy laugh. “Like I said, I don’t know.” Then again, maybe I did. Maybe I thought that the ride would take me away from the dark places I go to. Maybe I thought I could cut myself off from it. Maybe I thought all the weight inside me would go away.

I suddenly feel my friend's warm hand on my shoulder. He embraces me, whispering something into my ear. I can’t quite make out what it was, but even so, I feel some sense of clarity. I see the beauty of the cascaded stars again. In this moment time slows, and I feel renewed, baptized in the warmth of sincerity, and the echoes of past joys wash over me. I’ve no idea where they come from, or even what they are, but they vibrate through me. They are there, and are not forgotten in the darkness. 27 hills eh? I wonder what the number will be after tomorrow.

“Alright” Nelson says as he lets go of me. “I think you gotta try your hand at the fire tonight.”

I give a brief laugh. “We might just be getting smoke then.”

“Smoke comes from a fire, you know.”

I smile at this. He’s right. I stare up at the sky. “What if I do get fire, but it goes out, and I can’t get it back again, and all’s that’s left is the smoke?”

Nelson stares at me for several moments.

“You’ll get it back.”

He walks away to the bikes, even with the moonlight, I lose sight of him in the shroud of darkness. I stand there, alone, thinking of what to do next. I pause for a moment, and go to grab some firewood. Using the hatchet left with us, I begin cutting small pieces of kindling and tinder from the logs. Soon I’ve arranged all the pieces into something that looks like it has the potential to carry a flame.

I take a deep breath, emptying myself. Bathed in the dim moonlight and among the stars I begin to feel something ancient, something that I haven’t felt in a long time.

And I begin lighting the fire.