And then comes the actual trip! On a bike, in a canoe, on your own two feet....BUT.....always a but.....it is never exactly as you anticipated it. You didn't know there'd be a dipper fishing in the river, you didn't know the sun would burn your calves, that you'd find a mossy place of indescribable softness for a rest, that the lake wouldn't be the same shape as the blue splodge on your creased, torn paper map, that you'd meet a fierce bull or a friendly face, that your feet would get soaked cos the river was deeper than you expected. Sometimes the sweat and toil of your walk/ride/run/paddle is harder than you expected, sometimes the challenges prove easier to overcome than you could've imagined. It's partly about luck, you may be blessed by glorious weather or cursed by a million mosquitos!
And of course you might get lost.
When I think back, Nick and I have been lost in some pretty cool places; the scottish mountains in winter (eternal thanks to Georgie who's brilliant navigation stopped us from walking off that cliff!!!), on the highest mountain in Crete where crocuses were blooming under a shrinking blanket of snow, mountain biking on the South Downs Way, canoeing across Lake Insula in Minnesota (that lake has around 100 islands not all of which are marked on the map!), in a remote rocky valley in Majorca (twice!), in the grounds of Hindleap Warren in the dark. Being lost can be disconcerting, it distracts you from where you were meant to be and takes up more time than you'd allowed so you're still out there when you should be home having tea or back at the campsite filtering water and lighting your fire. Getting lost puts a spanner in the works, a stone in your boot, it can be scary and intimidating but boy do you remember those times?! You have a tale to tell because you have grown as a person, benefitted and learnt from the experience and you are forever changed.
Do I need to point out the similarities between these occasions and the crazy journey that cancer is taking us on?
Cancer is a proper spanner in the works I don't mind telling you and no amount of meticulous planning can prepare you for the wilderness of a cancer diagnosis. It leaves you feeling lost and terrified whether the cancer is yours or whether, like me, you're just along for the ride. And then you're thrown a lifeline - a treatment plan that feels like a new map but even then there's still a long, rocky way to go and no way of knowing where the twists and turns of that road will take you and what will happen from one day to the next. We feel much less lost now than we did a few months ago and Nick is feeling much healthier than we ever imagined possible given the harsh treatment she has to endure. Maybe we only really find ourselves when we are lost?
I really don't like some of the terminology used to describe adventures in the outdoors (usually not by the people who actually had them!). People will never 'conquer' mountains, the elements can't be 'beaten', the concept of 'man versus nature' makes no sense to me and the sea is not 'cruel'. Human endeavour is a wondrous thing, especially in harsh environments or challenging conditions but I believe that learning to understand and respect those environments and to manage your relationship with them is the key to achieving your goals when you set off to explore.
Similarly I am not keen on the 'battle with cancer' concept. For sure your body has a fight on its hands when cancer cells are rampaging but its just the amazing human body trying to carry on as normal in the face of adversity. I'm not sure how much conscious 'battling' is really possible though. Maybe staying calm, drawing on mental strength and going with the
flow is a preferable approach; accepting that things may not go as planned. We have had
good friends die in the mountains and good friends die of cancer. It's hard to make sense of this but I feel strongly that it's not about winning or losing, fighting or giving up.
So far on this cancer trip I am feeling more blessed than cursed thanks to the friends and
families who, despite their busy lives, have given up their time to carry our rucsacs, light our
fires, help us navigate, portage our canoes or just tell tall tales round our campfire. Nick doesn't feel like she's fighting. We both feel very loved and surely that's more powerful that a fight? So we'll press on, hoping the trail continues to be smooth even though we don't know exactly which direction that trail will take us, what the weather will be like, where the vistas will appear, and when we'll need help to get up a steep slope. And even though we don't have my beloved map.
Happy travels, Rach x
PS I wrote the first version of this post 24hrs ago. It came to me all at once, a stream of consciousness, just when I thought I had nothing to write about. I was very happy with it! And then....oh the irony of it.....I lost the whole thing! Yep, lost it. Trying desperately to remember what I'd written I couldn't sleep so I took myself off to the spare room knowing I'd be up in the night. Sure enough at 3am I was fumbling around looking for a bit of paper to jot down a few things while they were in my mind. I spotted a little ring-bound book on the shelf with some papers tucked inside - it was a canoeing guide to the river Wye & the papers were photocopied maps & notes made in preparation for the canoe camping trip we took
there some years ago. It seemed the perfect place to resurrect my blog post. It's not quite
what it was first time round but I hope you liked it. x That canoe trip didn't go quite to plan by the way but that's another story....
Meanwhile I am beginning to up the mileage in my training for the Great North Run I'm doing for the Lymphoma Association later in the year. Thank you so much if you have donated, I am so grateful for all the wonderful support....it means the world to me. Here is a link to my Just Giving page....
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/run-or-die
Lovely. My childhood fear was getting lost in our mum's little mini on the way to Norfolk. We never did, we might accidentally have taken the wrong exit, but we never got list. Yet i still fretted every time we went away..
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