Monday, March 21, 2011

The one where I use a bad word...

   An impossible expansion of desert lay before me. Endless rolling hills of sand, dirt and rock stretched clear out to the horizon. The only relief from the blazing sun was the narrow and distant shadow that lay just beneath the Chinati Mountains, the only recognizable landmark I could see.  Yes, I was familiar with these mountains. They were the giant guardians of the desert; timeless colossal formations of purple and burgundy rock that loomed over our tiny ranch. Even as I numbly stood and let the true desperation of my situation sink in, the sight of these Mountains gave me some comfort. They allowed me to get some idea of my location, and made me feel just a little less alone in the vast span of wilderness.
   Getting close to them suddenly seemed of the upmost importance. Maybe there I would at least be able to find water, or some sort of shelter from the harsh elements. I was shaken from my stationary position and deep thoughts when I felt a spot on my scalp begin to burn from over exposure to the burning sun.  I gasped, startled, and stumbled backward. I felt the heel of my boot catch on a jagged bolder and I toppled backword, I was rather notorious especially around these parts, for being clumsy. I felt sharp a painful jerk  in my left arm as I swung it back to catch my fall. It hung suspended in the branches of  a tall Octollio cactus as the rest of my body fell to the rock strewn earth below. I lay there for a minute, not knowing exactly how to untangle myself from the situation, literally. My body was twisted awkwardly as my arm dangled above me. The hooked thorns of the treacherous plant dug deep into my arm and even the slightest movement sent painful stabs throughout the entire limb.  I let out a soft groan, and lifted my gaze up to them mountains. Low sunlight from the setting sun engulfed the land and my vision. I turned my head away and panicked as I realized, daylight was quickly fading.
   It took all the courage I could gather to finally rip my arm from the claws of the angry plant. A hair raising scream burst from my mouth, not so much from the pain, but from the sight of the deep bleeding gashes that covered my arm. I clumsily untied the bandana from around my sweat covered neck and did my best to wrap it around the worst of the lacerations, or to at least stem some of the bleeding. Dust already covered the majority of my body, and I knew enough about medicine to realize that getting dirt in this wound would do nothing to help my situation.
   As much as I wanted to curl up into a little ball and just let my despair envelop me, the sunlight was quickly fading. If I was to have any chance of finding my way back to the ranch, I was going to have to make it to the base of the Chinati’s by nightfall, so I climbed to my feet. A wave of nausea almost overwhelmed me, and my head and vision spun. I took a deep steading breath, and emptied the last of my canteen. Feeling the final drops of water roll down my throat sent an electric charge through my body, and a fresh desire to survive settled in my mind. I would not be a coward. I was not going to sit here, helpless and weak and let the desert have its way with me. I was going to fight. I was going to fight like hell.

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