Monday, May 23, 2011
I just finished Aron Ralston's story, "127 Hours Between a Rock and a Hard Place" (2004). His adventure happened back in 2003 in Utah. There is a movie about it, too, but I haven't seen that. I think it's supposed to be inspiring, but I can't say that it really is to me. He finally mentions God around page 181, but he asks Satan for help instead on the next page. I can't say exactly what I'd do in a situation like that when desperation hits. Anyway, it's a fun read, but I don't recommend it too strongly. I did have a dream when I first started reading it that I was wandering around with a bloody stump where my hand should have been. That's not pleasant, even in dreamworld. But here I am in Utah, maybe 100 miles from where all that went down in the canyon. Of course, driving distance would be about twice as far with the mountains being in the way. I am not at all like Aron. I have no desire to climb anything, especially not something with snow at the top. But I reckon I'm just too soft. But I'm about ready to get out and enjoy this here vacation time. Find a couple caches. Find some coffee. Find a way to be useful, perhaps, but that is certainly not a priority today. Time to relax.