Life After Peace Corp - 26 mile hike

Finally, the 26-mile hike is over.  With so much anxiety and high expectation.  I am glad I did not give it up and decided to train for it.  Nice to have a goal and stick to that goal, which makes life a bit more interesting.  Here is only section of my hiking story.  To read the entire article, stay tune with CMCNY.org website or contact the author

.......As we all anticipated, the most challenging part of the 26-mile hike was the hills leading to the Scutt Memorial and Irish Potato.  The cliffs on Scutt Memorial were always my biggest fear.  Looking down to the overhangs, I felt my leg muscles tightening.  Thirteen years ago my first 26-mile hike with Gin, he showed me a trick to stop cramping. I remembered what he said and tried very hard to fight the cramp.  It worked!  On the most dangerous section, Helen and I just sat on our bottoms, inched our ways down to the cliff floor.  Thank God it did not rain or we would have very wet behinds!  On our way to the Irish Potato, we caught up with Sandy, soon we saw Seita too.  Four of us arrived at the parking lot of the Fire Tower at 12:20pm.  Leo from the 6-mile hike team left us precious water there.  Two can of “Red Drink” were reserved for Seita and James.  Before today, I never heard of this high energy drink.  I took a sip from Seita’s can and disliked it almost immediately.  Water was still my beloved drink, cool, refreshing and with a taste of nature.  Love it! 

Four of us rested for less than ten minutes and headed out to the Fire Tower.  As a general rule, we were allowed to use the paved road instead of the dirt trail.  The paved road was steep but compared to the dirt trial, it was a much easier climb.  Sandy began to show down, Seita, Helen and I went ahead without her.  There was a lilac shrub along the trail.  Its lavender flowers were in full bloom.  I could smell its sweet fragrant in the air.  Its presence added a little excitement to my hike.  Each year, I looked forward to seeing her.  Here she was, beautiful as ever! 

......

T he last two miles of the 26-mile trail remained a challenge.  By now, our bodies had already been tested to the limit.  Most people would slow down and complain about the everlasting hills.  Here in front of me was a narrow meandering path leading upward to a mountain top.   The sun had been playing hide and seek behind clouds whole day, and it finally decided to come out and stay.  Its rays casted a brilliant glow on the mountain top, illuminating every flora on the hillsides.  Trees with emerald leaves were shivering and sparkling, cheering and celebrating the arrival of spring.  Suddenly, I was full of energy, climbing up to the hill effortlessly.  Seita was having a difficult time to catch up with me.  I left him there and was content that finally, I was alone.   

It was a strange feeling to hike alone in the forest.  My mind began to wandering again, this time, I thought about Mr. Chen, how much I missed hiking with him.  I looked up the hill once more and I saw a familiar figure silhouetted against the late afternoon sky, a slim shadow of Mr. Chen climbing up to the Blauvelt Mountain alone…….. What was he thinking? Why did he never quit the 26-mile hike? What motivated him?  What was he trying to attest?  The questions I pondered for the longest time.  Today, I seemed to have the answers.

..........

Life After Pace Corps

An “Abnormal” Lady

Every morning I ride a bus to work. There is this woman, a not so good-looking lady; some people may even say that she is “UGLY”. She is not thin, to be exactly right, she is over-weight, and some folks may want to correct me and insist that she is actually OBESE. She is not a type of woman whom a man would be interested. Most likely, a man would never want to look at her AGAIN, EVER!

She usually sits in the front, right by the entrance of a bus, on the seats for the Disables.  No matter how hard you try, you cannot miss her. She likes to wear tight pants, tennis shoes and loose tops. Her oversized glasses magnify her cross-eyes twice as big. Oh, did I mention she loves her music. With her headset on, she keeps swinging her head back and forth, humming “hallelujah, hallelujah, HALLELUJAH”, a Christmas song. Some passengers get very annoyed with her loud singing, but the bus driver never tried to stop her, so she has the right to Hallelujah as long and as loud as she wishes. By now, you probably would sense that she is not “normal”.  It did not take me long to realize that she has Down Syndrome, or the meant people would use the not-so-nice word “Retarded”.

I never disliked her even she kept staring at me all the time for no reason. Occasionally, I would be startled by her sudden movement. Sometimes, unexpectedly, she would raise her voice, talk to her friends at the back of the bus or asked her friends a question about nothing. After a while, I paid no attention to her. Most of the time, she was simply an object.  Other bus riders ignored her as well.  In our “normal” people’s point of view, she is no one but a flat face, short neck object with a pair of slant cross-eyes.

This morning, I ride on the same bus with her again. She has a haircut, I notice. Right across from her is a teenager occupying the “Disable Seat”. Normally, I would go back to my routine reading and not paying any more attention to her. But today, for some reason, my eyes rest steadily on her. I watch her swinging back and forth with her music. She appears to be quite comfortable, actually very happy and extremely content. She is enjoying herself in her own little world; nothing around her matters. I begin to envy her. Then something happens.

The bus stops, a blind man boards the bus. She sees him and makes a quick but firm demand to the teenager.  She gestures the teenager to move out of the “Disable Seat” immediately. You can sense her eagerness to have that seat ready for the blind man. No one except me notices her act and no one except her makes that demand. I am touched, deeply moved by her sensitivity towards that blind man.   Is she really abnormal?  I begin to wonder.

Life After Peace Corps

Pleasant Encounter

Part of my 26-mile training path in VA goes through dense woodlands. Inside, there are network of trails made by dog walkers. Some trails are up on a steep slope, far away from the bicycle path and the Four Mile Run stream. At first, I did not dare entering into those woods alone as more often than not, those trails were deserted. Finally, curiosity overcame my fear, I went in one Sunday afternoon and since then, there was no turning back. Initially, I was startled by every rustling noise of the forest, and I cursed at the birds erupted under my feet. But after a while, I realized that there was really nothing to fear in nature. Now, I am more afraid of bumping into a stranger than a wild animal. Besides, those isolated winding routes are perfect for my training for the 26-mile hike.

Last Sunday, I went into the woods again. The entrance was a narrow corridor leading to a small hill. The path was littered with broken tree barks and padded with many seasons of fallen dried leaves. It was very comfortable to walk on, perhaps it made a nice bedding as well. As I causally looked ahead, something caught my attention, at the top of the hill stood a small animal. At first, I thought it was dog, a very small dog. But then, I noticed that the animal had a slim figure, too elegant to a dog, and where was the owner. I took off my sunglasses and had a second look. That animal looked straight at me. It did not move, just stood there and looked at me intensely. I stared back and did not move either. For five seconds, we both just stood there, waited to see who would do the first move. Finally, it moved away slowly, realized that I meant no harm. As it turned away, I could see its full profile, it was not a dog. It is a wild red fox! a beautiful red fox with long brown tail. I hurried up to the hill, stopped on the spot where the red fox once stood. The red fox was long gone but I found myself standing there with a big smile.

I remember an article of Edward Abbey. He described his encountered with a mountain lion in the wild. This is what he wrote:

I have not seen a mountain lion since that evening, but the experience remains shining in my memory. I want my children to have the opportunity for that kind of experience. I want my friends to have it. I even want our enemies to have it…..

That was exactly how I felt

Life After Peace Corps

Disappearing Into the Night

One of my Chinese Night Blooming Cereus plants is still not doing well. She has been with me more than eighteen years. When I brought her home, she was just a piece of lifeless leave, a so neglected piece of leave. I nurtured her back to life. Two years later, she surprised me with a beautiful flower. Since then, she flourished into a healthy and productive mother.

Each year, she continued to give me more and more flowers. At one point, she became so big that I had to cut off some of her leaves. I put those leaves in water, and soon later, they all had roots and I cared for them with equal love. Within a year, all grew to be prince charming, handsome healthy youngsters. I gave some away to friends, and kept a few. One particular one turned into a magnificent beauty. She produced more flowers than her mother. I helped her to make more baby plants as well. So in short, my original plant is a not only a mother, she is a great, great, great grandmother.

I have long believed that plants have feelings, emotions, and personalities. I am not the first person to speak of “the sensitive plant”. Edward Abbey believed it too. Even recent researchers suggest that plants respond to music and to human emotions. I am inclined to believe it. I spent nearly twenty years with this plant, caring for her, talking to her and begging her to give me flowers. She acknowledged my friendship with silent promise. Year after year, she bloomed with all her energy. Perhaps now is time for her to rest and to disappear into the night…..

I place her by the window, a spot that catches most of the morning sun. I make her feel as comfortable as possible. I will let her decide when to wither. For now, I will give her even more love and care.

She is, in spite of everything, an old friend, a loyal unselfish dear friend, never question my motive, give me nothing but love……

Life After Peace Corps

Smithsonian and I, perfect together!

Sitting in the Smithsonian auditorium, I watched an FBI agent giving out a presentation of solving Art Crimes. Once in a while, I have to pinch myself. Is this real? I am paid to go to all these interesting lectures, presentations and seminars, all are sponsored by the Smithsonian. My boss absolutely encourages me to participate.

I have been looking half of my life for a work place like this. Not only a place I can make my livings, but also a place I enjoy working. Being a Federal employee at the Smithsonian for less than two months, I believe I have found that perfect working place. In the Controller Office where I work, nothing really has to get done NOW! or should have been finished YESTERDAY, an expression I heard every day in my old jobs. Here in the Smithsonian, employee receives all kinds of training; technical, artistic or humanitarian related. If there is new exhibit or an IMAX movie in town (meaning in the National mall) and you want to see it, that is your right, even your boss says no. In reality, your boss can not and will never say NO. For we are the Smithsonian employees, it is our duty and privilege to see those exhibits and movies before the general public. Day 1, my boss always told me, “Smithsonian does not come to you; you have to go after the Smithsonian”. He wants me to be more “Smithsonian”.

Next year, I am planning to take a month off to walk the entire pilgrimage trail in Spain or backpack four weeks in the Continental Divide, adventures I dream about to do when I retire. It seems that I do not have to wait until I retire.

I can picture my boss’s expression. First he will say, “WOW!” then, “SURE, Chi why not!”

Oh, Smithsonian and I perfect together!!!!