my whole life, distilled into one night

We had learnt that there were pangs too sharp, griefs too deep, ecstacies too high for our finite selves to register. When emotion reached this pitch the mind choked; and memory went white till the circumstances were humdrum once more
T E

I set off at five in the evening, after ditching everything except my camera equipment and water. The geologist's notes that I had carried so carefully went into the sand along with the clothes ~ if he didn't have another copy he could come here and do his study again. I was so desperate to keep the weight down that I even threw away my food ~ all heavy cans and tins, the heaviest part of my load. The previous night had been hard, but not life threatening, because I was sure of rescue at the water tank. This next night seemed impossible, and dry biscuits, peanut butter and cheese seemed ridiculous. I was tempted to throw away the camera and lenses too, but these last shots of what I had seen and done were the next most precious thing to me after my two litres of water.

And so I set off, light, at five in the evening. The winter sun was soft and low, and I was clocking a fantastic pace. In three hours I was tired in a landscape that I didn't recognise for the first time. This time the back and feet were fine, but the mental strain of impending death was killing. I've heard a million people say how adverse situations bring out the best in you, or how the body draws on strengths you never knew existed. It wasn't like that. If anything I was feeling weaker, and it was all mental. It was all too much. I knew that everything I had ever done, and everything I had ever wanted to become was distilled into this one night, one walk. Life itself seemed so simple ~ all I had to do was walk.

< Previous   Next >



© 2001–2008 p i n a k i