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by T. Duren Jones
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The Soundtrack of My Life |
The peaceful music acted as background narration for what was unfolding all around me. I stopped, slowly turned round and round, tried to hum along, but was stopped by having to choke back tears. |
I did something recently that I’ve never done before on a hike: I brought music. Not on a huge boom box, but on a small iPod. This may be a common practice for some, but it’s entirely new to me. Before this, especially on long-distance, very remote wilderness treks, I always wanted to be hyper aware of my surroundings, especially alert to any noise of a predator tracking me, looking for its next two-legged, trail-delivered meal.
The Lost Lakes Trail (combined with the Devil’s Causeway crossing) is a 19.5-mile loop in the Flat Tops Wilderness, not far from Steamboat Springs, in the northern mountains of Colorado. I knew it was going to be a long day for my brother-in-law, Kevin, and me, so I thought I’d try something different to get me through the second half of this real endurance test. I loaded onto my iPod Shuffle some movie soundtrack instrumentals, Celtic choruses, traditional hymns (including my favorite album, the 2ndChapter of Acts Hymns), some Christmas music (why only around the holidays?), and Gregorian chants. Okay, just kidding about the chants. Typically on my long hikes—like the biggest segments of the Colorado Trail—I “hit a wall” at about mile 12. There is no turning back, of course, just pressing forward. It’s physically challenging for a fella my age, but just as much a mind game at this point to continue to the goal. Halfway around the Lost Lakes loop, I pulled out my Shuffle and put on my ear buds. If a hungry mountain lion or bear was going to get me, it was probably going to happen anyway, music or not. The Lost Lakes Trail is spectacularly beautiful. I had already found countless (lost) lakes, been in and out of thick-forested sections, and surveyed open parks carpeted with high alpine wildflowers, exploding with color this year. Each turn in the trail seemed to unveil even more surprising wonders: expansive vistas, but also exceptional details like bubbling brooks, flittering butterflies, and constant changes in the landscape as the light was broken up by friendly passing clouds. I stood in a meadow, clicked the iPod’s “on” button, and something unexpected, something extraordinary, happened. As I slowly walked on, the music, starting with a sweeping instrumental, became a soundtrack for the hike. It was like a 360-degree IMAX theater experience, in 3D, but live, not filmed. I was stunned and touched. As I continued, the peaceful music acted as background narration for what was unfolding all around me. I stopped, slowly turned round and round, tried to hum along, but was stopped by having to choke back tears. The music did help me finish the long hike, including the last five miles of alpine tundra way above tree line, traversing the Devil’s Causeway at sunset, and arriving at the SUV after 10 p.m. A very long day, but so memorable. Later I got to wondering what sort of soundtrack is playing in the background in my everyday life, far from the mountains. If I viewed my work-a-day world as a film, would I hear staccato music, loud and chaotic, shouting in my head? Or would my inner playlist bring me peace, quiet, clarity, inspiration and focus? I have a feeling I know the answer to this question: Many times the “music” is like screeching violins in a horror movie! Perhaps it’s time to bring some of the wilderness tranquility to my day-to-day living, because there will be no film titled My Life, the Sequel to get it right. The lions in life might still hunt me; I’ll still be looking over my shoulder. But, hopefully, I’ll go down with serenity and a smile. More adventures |