It was a dark and stormy morning.
It didn't start out that way. It started out as any normal Sunday
morning seemed to when we awoke and realized that we had to hightail it
to Rec Hall shortly or we would incur Coach's wrath for being late for
the Mountain Run. Usually we had to wait only for Gary (Black) to show up!
Shaking off the vestiges of the night before, we donned our scratchy
blues and grays and supplemented them with the even scratchier sweats of
further gray. It was early Spring which is really late Winter in Happy
Valley.
We piled into the Van of Blue with Coach driving, the
entire rag tag bunch of 15 or so of us scratching, bitching and farting
as usual, before making it to the starting area somewhere in Bear
Meadows. The 15 mile run (actually 17 as usual) was throughout Bear
Meadows, with the Switchbacks somewhere in the middle. (A chill has
unexpectedly run up hundreds of spines of ex-PSU distance runners at the
mention of Switchbacks!) All was going swimmingly until the second
half of the run, when a dark chill seemed to envelope our world. By
then we were spread out sufficiently that few of us were within site of
each other. Soon site-lines didn't matter, as the darkness got worse.
Then the rain began. A cold, cold rain, that seemed to penetrate to the
bone. As we laughed that it couldn't get worse, the lightning began.
At first, the frequent lightning was a benefit; it allowed us to
occasionally see the road ahead and ever so slowly make it back to the
Van. But then, the trees started bursting into flames occasionally,
usually right next to us, with trees occasionally falling into the
surrounding darkness with a sickening crunch.
As the rain
continued, our sweats came alive and stretched to 200% of their former
length, taunting us with their elasticity. When we doubled the ends up
and pulled them to our groin, they still dragged on the ground in the
middle, making running a struggle. (I swear, I'm not making that up!)
It got colder, more trees fell and others burned, we couldn't see where
we were going unless the lightning hit near us, and we weren't sure if
we could find the Van.
Somehow, someone's prayers were answered
and several of us stumbled upon the Van in the torrential rain and
darkness. It was now as simple as reaching for the key,
which all of us knew was always placed on the driver's side front tire, AND IT WASN'T THERE!
For the first time in our recorded history, Coach had kept the key,
and was somewhere in the darkness behind us, running with the trailing
group or
possibly lost for all eternity.
The downpour continued as we huddled in the ever worsening cold. We
didn't speak much, some of us were wondering whether we would ever make
it back to the dorm for our Brunch of Chicken Cosmos or something.
When
Coach finally made it back to the Van we all hurried in, only to
realize that the usual disgusting odors were now magnified
exponentially. The windows fogged relentlessly as the yellowish haze
built in the passenger compartment. The drive back was only seemingly 2
hours long, and as we were finally nearing campus a thought hit me,
that has stuck until this day.
While we were out there in the worst weather I had encountered in my 19 years, I realized that as humans,
we
were no better off than the common Tree Shrew I had just learned in
Evolution Class was similar to our earliest ancestors on the hominid
tree. The Primal Seven was formed, as I thought of what the poor Tree Shrews must have felt while stuck in the trees during such a storm.
- Cold
- Wet
- Tired
- Hungry
- Lonely
- Scared And,
- Thirsty.
And they had no
Chicken Cosmos to look forward to!
