In 1944, a B-24J bomber crashed on a Hawaiian peak during a routine flight. In 2005, I got talked into hiking a 4.5 mile trail through a tropical rain forest with the promise it was a) beautiful and b) wouldn’t rain (in spite of the fact it’d been raining for the past several days, thanks to a former hurricane named Kenneth).
It was indeed beautiful.
And it most definitely rained, turning the trail into a muddy, slick mess in spots. This would be okay, except that parts of the trail are very narrow and feature sheer drops. One wrong foot, and you’d be sliding down a mountain like Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone. In fact, I had visions of the edge of the trail crumbling beneath me, roiling into a torrential mud slide and carrying me with it. Tellingly, the person who suggested the trip (Mark!) had never seen the movie. It’s my intention to rectify this situation. 🙂
I can’t blame him entirely, though, because Mike also thought hiking would be fun. Except for the couple of times they nearly left me behind, then turned around and said, “Oh, there you are,” I wasn’t too worried. I could have used a machete in places to hack the growth, but mostly the trail was clear if somewhat narrow and wet. I survived, albeit bedraggled, soaked, and caked in mud from the knee down. I learned two things.
1) Just like the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy says, always carry a towel.
2) You can’t trust a priest.