The 1st time we went paragliding was epic, but it was so adrenaline filled and insanely unique of an experience that it immediately slipped through the fingers of our memory. The sensation, the images, it all faded into a blur and made myself, my husband and my 11 year old son demand another go.
It was my husband Jesse's birthday and while being in Jardin, Colombia was clearly gift enough, we took the opportunity to sail the skies again. Having done it once before, in the neighboring town, we felt like pros as we climbed into the back of the open jeep; gratitude swept over us that it was not the crap van the other company used to try to kill us in. But then we hit the trail and decided that the way anyone gets from point A to point B on the small little roads of the area was to see how close to death they could get. Jess has an CJ jeep at home so we are no strangers to off-roading, but this was something different, even Jesse was nervous. The jeep rocked hard side to side tilting perilously onto the left tires, then the right as we griped anything we could to stay inside. Soon, as we launched off another boulder, we started to laugh at the absurdity of being in the most terrifying of vehicle journeys yet again. Maybe the guide books were right to warn us about driving in Colombia.
We were less nervous going into this round of jumping off a cliff than the first time we decided to, but the full body tingling had been surging before we even got into the jeep. By the time we got to the top of the hill, our hands were shaking, our hearts were racing and we were once again wondering why we were being such crazy asses.
The hilltop we were to fly off this time was not the hellish steep cliff-side from the 1st time, but was a gentle slope, a welcome sight! The wind was perfect and they teamed each of us up with a pilot immediately. This too was a wonderful surprise as this meant we would, all three, be in the air at the same time. Quickly we were clipped in and before we could silently throw-up in our mouths, we were launched high above the Emerald City below; a gentle, warm breeze blowing against our faces.
Sweeping to the right over luscious fruit farms, we began swirling up up up into the clouds, a chill raised goosebumps on my arms and I swung my legs, relishing the sensation of the wind against them. We sailed over dense green hills and through wild jungle filled valleys, past diamond dazzling waterfalls and spun down toward the caramel colored stone town. We floated over the tight lines of coffee farms and blue bagged banana trees, we passed cows on hillsides close enough to almost pet and danced between immense flowering trees. Intermediate butterflies fluttered in my stomach as the currents of air would change, making us wobble and reminding me that I was dangling thousands of feet off the ground. But the sheer outrageousness of being flown through the sky, unencumbered, was addictive. I watched as the golden sunlight moved across the layered mountains and glinted off the tile roofs of the buildings below; an impossible view to behold and yet I was seeing it. The beauty of the world, this country, lodged a lump into my throat and as tears rolled down my cheeks, my chin began to tremble and I took a moment to absorb this amazing experience with every particle of myself. As if trying to record it deep down in my core.
It was a glorious day for paragliding which meant we were able to stay in the sky for an unprecedented full hour. There was only a week left to our stay in Jardin and as we soared with birds and under rainbows, I said a goodbye to this place of perfection. To have had the chance to not only visit this town, but to truly live here among its kind, caring people, felt like a punch to the heart as the ache of leaving set in. Our time in Colombia was anything but expected and more than I could have ever wished for. We set off on this adventure unsure what we would find; what we found was utter happiness.
We slid to the soft grass at the end of our flight exhilarated, a feeling of celebration bubbling from the three of us. We delighted in sharing stories of our individual experiences and laughed as we sipped wine at our favorite cafe. Jess' deep voice full of excitement rippled against my son's infectious smile, wide and bright over his lime/ coconut drink and echoed the pure bliss I felt. Like the Dorothy Parker reading night on the sailboat at the beginning of our adventure, this would be another magical moment I would never forget.
*this post is brought to you by sappy sentiment which I recommend pairing with our San Francisco International Wine Competition winners Aglianico (bronze medal red wine) or Abbott White (Silver medal white wine blend)
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Running on Wine; from Marathons to Rafting to "Fueling" on the Patio, We are Fueled by Vivác.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
The Splendor of Love
Living in Jardin, Colombia was like a dream, hazy and easy. Time slipped away silky smooth like the sand in an hourglass. Hours slid into days which slid into weeks. We slept in, meandered to our favorite cafe where we would drink coffee for hours and got to know each other in a way forgotten by most families. The bright sun would heighten the dazzling scent of the blooming roses that packed the center square as children giggled in the distance. A light warm rain, would come every afternoon sending us, along with the locals, back home. The rain was fuzzy, not the hard cold drops we know of at home, and it cradled you as you moved about in it. The afternoon would be spent with each of us reading a great book as my husband and son curled up next to next to me. As the evening turned the light a rich gold and the droplets of rain made the emerald green of the mountains become even more vivid, we would head to our favorite cafe once more. Our second daily stop at the cafe would be for wine and people watching as the local vendors set up shop and many gathered for an afterwork libation. On weekends the plaza was gently packed with tourists from Medellin, a Colombian city 4 hours away. During the weekdays, the town was as romantically sleepy as a Gabriel Garcia Marquez story. Surprise events would spring up dazzling us with charm and awe and soon we were recognized by the town as permanent fixtures. Our favorite bistros and waiters greeted us even more friendly than before and knew our order as we walked through the door. The love affair we had with this town was deep and passionate and seeped through our veins like morphine.
Over the time we were in Jardin, we talked about things we may want to do; paragliding again, but over the town itself this time, possible waterfall repelling, the little colonial museum, the tiny box they called a tram that crossed the river, the Los Rochas bird sanctuary and a host of bistros we had to eat at. The problem was, as we oozed into life in this jewel of a town, like a fine wine that slips down your throat, enticing your taste buds, tingling your every sense and wooing you moment by moment, we found it increasingly difficult to motivate.
It took several days of talking about the "tram" to finally will ourselves the few blocks to the odd crate that dangled parlously over the immense gorge and river below. When we finally did, it was like everything in Colombia, a thrill and unexpectedly delightful. The tiny box swayed as it crossed threatening to drop us to our death, yet offered stunning views of the banana farms. When we finally made our way the couple blocks in the opposite direction of the tram to the bird sanctuary, we were embraced by a lush, dense jungle filled with strange birds; benches built into the trees giving you an unbelievable ability to be in their world. When we finally made it to the boutique that was a scant few steps from our favorite cafe, we found the ultimate in Colombian fashion and showered ourselves in items sure to never be found elsewhere. Each visit clearly well worth the effort to seek these things out.
However, it wasn't until my husband Jess' birthday, toward the end of our trip, that we were able to get to the most exciting of all experiences, our second paragliding adventure. Our love affair with Jardin had been like one of teenagers lusting after each other, but once we saw the town from above, caressed her steep hills and coffee farms in this way, did we truly fall madly in love.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Over the time we were in Jardin, we talked about things we may want to do; paragliding again, but over the town itself this time, possible waterfall repelling, the little colonial museum, the tiny box they called a tram that crossed the river, the Los Rochas bird sanctuary and a host of bistros we had to eat at. The problem was, as we oozed into life in this jewel of a town, like a fine wine that slips down your throat, enticing your taste buds, tingling your every sense and wooing you moment by moment, we found it increasingly difficult to motivate.
It took several days of talking about the "tram" to finally will ourselves the few blocks to the odd crate that dangled parlously over the immense gorge and river below. When we finally did, it was like everything in Colombia, a thrill and unexpectedly delightful. The tiny box swayed as it crossed threatening to drop us to our death, yet offered stunning views of the banana farms. When we finally made our way the couple blocks in the opposite direction of the tram to the bird sanctuary, we were embraced by a lush, dense jungle filled with strange birds; benches built into the trees giving you an unbelievable ability to be in their world. When we finally made it to the boutique that was a scant few steps from our favorite cafe, we found the ultimate in Colombian fashion and showered ourselves in items sure to never be found elsewhere. Each visit clearly well worth the effort to seek these things out.
However, it wasn't until my husband Jess' birthday, toward the end of our trip, that we were able to get to the most exciting of all experiences, our second paragliding adventure. Our love affair with Jardin had been like one of teenagers lusting after each other, but once we saw the town from above, caressed her steep hills and coffee farms in this way, did we truly fall madly in love.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Saturday, February 3, 2018
Why Don't You Go Jump Off a Cliff?
Even as we sit here, trying to edit paragliding videos, I can't quite put into words what it is like to have this crazy experience. My husband, my 11yr old son and I have now jumped off a cliff twice. I mean who does that? Evidently we do, we do that, repeatedly.
It was as we walked home from our coffee farm hike that we saw the sky filled with paragliders and had the thought that that would be the best way to really see this gorgeous Colombian valley. $40 to jump off a cliff seemed like a great deal so we signed our death warrants and prepared to fly. I can feel you seasoned paragliders rolling your eyes, but try to remember back to your 1st time...weren't you scared?
The morning of our 1st paragliding trip, we climbed into the van full of doubts. We had tried to eat breakfast, but the nerves made it hard to even have coffee. Let that statement just sink in a second...it was hard for coffee addicts, in Colombia, to drink coffee. Those are some powerful nerves. Somehow the idea of throwing ourselves off a cliff, and for me and Jesse, allowing our child to jump off a cliff, was the focus of our fear, but it turns out we had plenty more to worry about.
The van trip took us to the nearby town of Los Andes and way way way up into the mountains. Remember the dangerous car trip we took into the jungle a blog back? Well, we were about to recreate it. It was amazing the rocks that our pilots drove this van over, bouncing us hard off the metal structure of the seats as we careened around blind corners and charged up steep hills. Sometimes the old, tired van was unable to have the steam to make it to the top and needed to roll back down and start again. We would tilt precariously at the top of the hill and then race down and around another corner. At one of these ridiculous curves, I made the mistake of looking out the window, down into the valley below, and see that the van was barely on the road! This made my fear sky rocket and I gripped onto Jesse. It wasn't but a few seconds later that we felt the van sink into 2 feet of mud. The driver gunned the gas and we swashed closer to the cliff's edge, then he backed up and took a running charge at the bog...aiming for the cliff side! All three of us were terrified and I started asking to walk. When the rest of the pilots jumped out to try to push the van, which was stuck again, through the ever growing mud pit, they wouldn't allow us out. I think they didn't quite get how bad we wanted out and thought it best to not have the clients pushing the van. No, no I don't want to push the van, I want to hitchhike back to Jardin and be done with this shit show.
By the time we parked the van at the base of a trail, I was in a full sweat and trying to hold back tears. We hiked straight up the mountain side, feeling the burn in our backsides and emerged from banana trees and coffee plants to a small clearing with a almost vertical expanse of grass that ended in a cliff. This is where we would run down to leap into the air. I could hardly even stand up on this flight path and I was going to have to run down it? This was starting to seem like a really bad idea. Luckily, or maybe not, there was no wind and so we sat for 40 mins, catching our breath and looking at our impending death. However, we all agreed that flinging ourselves off the cliff was a far better idea than getting in the van and driving back down that road. Migrant coffee laborers emerged from the fields to video the crazy gringos that were going to jump off a cliff; we exchanged looks with them as if to say 'I know, this is seriously stupid'.
Finally the wind picked up and we got our son geared up. He repeated "I'm scared" like a mantra, but followed instructions to get in place. My hands were slippery with sweat and I worked really hard to speak in a calm voice. Then suddenly they counted to 3 and ran, with my child, off the cliff. I almost peed my pants.
I was to be next. I looked to Jess for his classic "you got this babe" face and found a pale, worried look staring back at me. Oh crap. "I have to be at least as brave as our son was right?" I asked nervously laughing. "Yes, but I'm scared" was his response. This was NOT good! How the hell do I back out now?
Before I knew it, I was being yelled at "Run! Run! Run!", I leaned hard against the force trying to pull me backward as the fabric filled with wind. My feet slid fighting me and I literally ran as hard as I could...in place. What the hell?!? Then in a sudden burst, I was released down the hill and off the cliff. My heart raced and I thought I might vomit, then that was it, we were in the air! I pushed the straps down and sat in the sling seat. We swept up into the air and over the trees and I couldn't help but cry out in excitement. We swirled over the rolling green hills and farms in an exhilarating woosh that I hoped would never end.
It is absolutely just like you imagine flying to be in your dreams. The warm air against your face, the extraordinary views, and the ultimate sense of freedom. There is also the wobble that sends tingles down your spine as you realize you are only hooked to the pilot with 2 carabiners and a small strap that is loosely over the front of you. It is unlike anything else I have ever done. I'd say it was like scuba diving when you catch a current and fly through the water, but it isn't even close. It is pure magic; you are thousands of feet up in the air, an all too unnatural place for a human to be, and the sensation is indescribable. All too soon, we were coming in for a landing. "Pick up your feet" my pilot yelled and we slid on our butts into a field of cattle, way to close to the cows for my comfort, but hey, I was alive and my cheering boy was beaming at me "Can we do it again?!?" he asked, almost busting out of his skin with happiness. Yes, we definitely needed to do it again; this was hands down the coolest thing I had ever done.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
It was as we walked home from our coffee farm hike that we saw the sky filled with paragliders and had the thought that that would be the best way to really see this gorgeous Colombian valley. $40 to jump off a cliff seemed like a great deal so we signed our death warrants and prepared to fly. I can feel you seasoned paragliders rolling your eyes, but try to remember back to your 1st time...weren't you scared?
The morning of our 1st paragliding trip, we climbed into the van full of doubts. We had tried to eat breakfast, but the nerves made it hard to even have coffee. Let that statement just sink in a second...it was hard for coffee addicts, in Colombia, to drink coffee. Those are some powerful nerves. Somehow the idea of throwing ourselves off a cliff, and for me and Jesse, allowing our child to jump off a cliff, was the focus of our fear, but it turns out we had plenty more to worry about.
The van trip took us to the nearby town of Los Andes and way way way up into the mountains. Remember the dangerous car trip we took into the jungle a blog back? Well, we were about to recreate it. It was amazing the rocks that our pilots drove this van over, bouncing us hard off the metal structure of the seats as we careened around blind corners and charged up steep hills. Sometimes the old, tired van was unable to have the steam to make it to the top and needed to roll back down and start again. We would tilt precariously at the top of the hill and then race down and around another corner. At one of these ridiculous curves, I made the mistake of looking out the window, down into the valley below, and see that the van was barely on the road! This made my fear sky rocket and I gripped onto Jesse. It wasn't but a few seconds later that we felt the van sink into 2 feet of mud. The driver gunned the gas and we swashed closer to the cliff's edge, then he backed up and took a running charge at the bog...aiming for the cliff side! All three of us were terrified and I started asking to walk. When the rest of the pilots jumped out to try to push the van, which was stuck again, through the ever growing mud pit, they wouldn't allow us out. I think they didn't quite get how bad we wanted out and thought it best to not have the clients pushing the van. No, no I don't want to push the van, I want to hitchhike back to Jardin and be done with this shit show.
By the time we parked the van at the base of a trail, I was in a full sweat and trying to hold back tears. We hiked straight up the mountain side, feeling the burn in our backsides and emerged from banana trees and coffee plants to a small clearing with a almost vertical expanse of grass that ended in a cliff. This is where we would run down to leap into the air. I could hardly even stand up on this flight path and I was going to have to run down it? This was starting to seem like a really bad idea. Luckily, or maybe not, there was no wind and so we sat for 40 mins, catching our breath and looking at our impending death. However, we all agreed that flinging ourselves off the cliff was a far better idea than getting in the van and driving back down that road. Migrant coffee laborers emerged from the fields to video the crazy gringos that were going to jump off a cliff; we exchanged looks with them as if to say 'I know, this is seriously stupid'.
Finally the wind picked up and we got our son geared up. He repeated "I'm scared" like a mantra, but followed instructions to get in place. My hands were slippery with sweat and I worked really hard to speak in a calm voice. Then suddenly they counted to 3 and ran, with my child, off the cliff. I almost peed my pants.
I was to be next. I looked to Jess for his classic "you got this babe" face and found a pale, worried look staring back at me. Oh crap. "I have to be at least as brave as our son was right?" I asked nervously laughing. "Yes, but I'm scared" was his response. This was NOT good! How the hell do I back out now?
Before I knew it, I was being yelled at "Run! Run! Run!", I leaned hard against the force trying to pull me backward as the fabric filled with wind. My feet slid fighting me and I literally ran as hard as I could...in place. What the hell?!? Then in a sudden burst, I was released down the hill and off the cliff. My heart raced and I thought I might vomit, then that was it, we were in the air! I pushed the straps down and sat in the sling seat. We swept up into the air and over the trees and I couldn't help but cry out in excitement. We swirled over the rolling green hills and farms in an exhilarating woosh that I hoped would never end.
It is absolutely just like you imagine flying to be in your dreams. The warm air against your face, the extraordinary views, and the ultimate sense of freedom. There is also the wobble that sends tingles down your spine as you realize you are only hooked to the pilot with 2 carabiners and a small strap that is loosely over the front of you. It is unlike anything else I have ever done. I'd say it was like scuba diving when you catch a current and fly through the water, but it isn't even close. It is pure magic; you are thousands of feet up in the air, an all too unnatural place for a human to be, and the sensation is indescribable. All too soon, we were coming in for a landing. "Pick up your feet" my pilot yelled and we slid on our butts into a field of cattle, way to close to the cows for my comfort, but hey, I was alive and my cheering boy was beaming at me "Can we do it again?!?" he asked, almost busting out of his skin with happiness. Yes, we definitely needed to do it again; this was hands down the coolest thing I had ever done.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Thursday, February 1, 2018
What's That Sound?
The morning we drove our tiny 'Tic Tak' of a car over the hill and through the jungle, was bright and sunny with high clouds giving us a perfect day to... die a horrible death. The road through this jungle pass was what the guide books had been referencing as "crap", OK maybe they didn't use that specific word, but there was not much to call a road. It was that kind of road that would make a 20 mile trip, take all day. But we didn't care, we had all day, and if needed we could cut the trip short and return to one of the charming road side restaurant/ bars, the ones that had open palapa style patios overlooking the breathtaking town of Jardin. Maybe one of those bars should have been the entire destination for the day, but we didn't know that till later.
As we bobbed up and down, jostled by the holes in the road, we marveled at the grandeur of the cliff-side this road was cut into. Skinny waterfalls snaked through the lush green and sheer drop-offs made our palms sweat. We climbed higher and higher, stopping to take photos of each flower, like Dorothy in the 'Wizard of Oz', in pure wonder of each plant we saw. The road came to meet the clouds and we found ourselves in yet another, somehow new, jungle world. This area was so magical and beautiful that even the cows were gorgeous. At one point, we stopped to watch as a brand new, jet black baby cow was urged to stand on his wobbling legs by his huge mother. Their giant back humps and big floppy ears made them cuddle worthy. Their coats, clean and short, almost shining, made them add to the mountainous countryside view in a picture perfect way.
After a solid couple hours meandering up this now muddy road, we discovered that we would never have time to drive all the way to the next town, and with the road turning to soup with each roll of the tire, we knew the 'Tic Tak' wasn't going to make it; we decided to turn back. It is important at this juncture to mention that as we had climbed ever upward, there had been a specific spot in the road where rocks had fallen, not bad, but enough to take note and to draw our attention to the sudden disappearance of earth to the side of the car which plummeted 1000ft down to a river. Most people would have seen this as an ominous sign, but being that my husband and I are from rural Northern New Mexico (where it is a form of entertainment to try to kill yourself via bad road romping), we did not. However, as we returned to that spot, we found large rocks had since been tossed into our path. Again putting my Northern New Mexico skills to work, I jumped out of the car to throw the largest of the rocks out of the way for my husband to navigate the car through. As I heaved rocks off the cliff, Jesse took pictures of me, suddenly something seemed off about this arrangement. You are thinking it was that I was the one in the road tossing heavy rocks while my husband relaxed in the car, but while true, that was not what gave me pause. In fact it was the low sound of a rumble, slight, easy to miss, then the unmistakable sound of rock bouncing off of rock.
I looked up, hands muddy, just in time to see an avalanche of rocks headed for me. I scrambled over the unsteady ground, my cute leather flats becoming the glaringly wrong footwear for the outing. My heart racing and my eyes almost as big as the rocks the mountain was hurling at me. I don't know if Jesse saw it at the same time or if my panicked running cued him to looking up the steep mountainside, but as I approached the driver's side of the car, mentally willing it to get out of the way, Jess threw it in reverse. For a few yards I ran alongside the reversing car, trying simultaneously to not have my feet run over and not falling down the 1000ft chasm. The clashing of rocks slowed to a friendly ding as the final few came to a resting place in the road and my heart found a resting place in my throat. Jess instinctively looked at our son who sat wide eyed and mouth gaping in the back seat, making sure he was OK. We all, including the 'Tic Tak' were unharmed...other than the massive heart attack I was having. We exchanged nervous, relieved laughter for a moment and then reality struck, if we didn't get across this, we'd be stuck way up this mountain with evening approaching, the clouds getting blacker and no supplies. Jess quickly conveyed the urgency of the situation to me and I carefully tip toed back toward the path of the landslide. I moved as quietly and carefully as I could, not wanting to awaken the beast yet again. The adrenaline had my heart racing and it thumped in my ears. With shaking hands I ran for it, grabbing the largest of rocks and tossing them to the side as I went, Jesse expertly maneuvered through the path I made behind me.
Once back in the car, safely on our way again, we recounted the harrowing experience and how lucky we were. My head started to hurt and I felt nauseous. I felt shaky and my body buzzed with an ache all too familiar. Adrenaline releases cortisol, a potent, powerful hormone that had been the route cause of my symptoms while battling my brain tumor. I recognized the feeling immediately. I sat in silence for a few moments, full of emotion, partly because that was a scary as shit experience and partly because I knew that the cortisol coursing through me, wouldn't intensify, but would pass, and I was filled with gratitude that I was healthy again.
My son hates when I say corny stuff like "I'm going to really live because I thought I was going to die", and I remember rolling my eyes at statements like that prior to my health battles, but when you dream of far away lands and exotic adventures, when you think of how fiercely you love your husband and child, the thought that you could leave them, never see those places, never do the things you kept saying you'd do 'some day', something happens to you. I don't know that I will ever have the words to describe what it is like, but as I sat quite in the car, bouncing back down the road to our oasis roadside bar, excited laughter bubbling from my son and my husband's reassuring hand on my leg, I felt exquisite joy.
Now the trick is to really 'live it up' without possibly killing us all.
* This blog post is brought to you by the large amounts of wine we consumed to calm our nerves. I find that fear pairs best with a cool clean Chardonnay while anxiety pairs best with a bold Cabernet Sauvignon.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
As we bobbed up and down, jostled by the holes in the road, we marveled at the grandeur of the cliff-side this road was cut into. Skinny waterfalls snaked through the lush green and sheer drop-offs made our palms sweat. We climbed higher and higher, stopping to take photos of each flower, like Dorothy in the 'Wizard of Oz', in pure wonder of each plant we saw. The road came to meet the clouds and we found ourselves in yet another, somehow new, jungle world. This area was so magical and beautiful that even the cows were gorgeous. At one point, we stopped to watch as a brand new, jet black baby cow was urged to stand on his wobbling legs by his huge mother. Their giant back humps and big floppy ears made them cuddle worthy. Their coats, clean and short, almost shining, made them add to the mountainous countryside view in a picture perfect way.
After a solid couple hours meandering up this now muddy road, we discovered that we would never have time to drive all the way to the next town, and with the road turning to soup with each roll of the tire, we knew the 'Tic Tak' wasn't going to make it; we decided to turn back. It is important at this juncture to mention that as we had climbed ever upward, there had been a specific spot in the road where rocks had fallen, not bad, but enough to take note and to draw our attention to the sudden disappearance of earth to the side of the car which plummeted 1000ft down to a river. Most people would have seen this as an ominous sign, but being that my husband and I are from rural Northern New Mexico (where it is a form of entertainment to try to kill yourself via bad road romping), we did not. However, as we returned to that spot, we found large rocks had since been tossed into our path. Again putting my Northern New Mexico skills to work, I jumped out of the car to throw the largest of the rocks out of the way for my husband to navigate the car through. As I heaved rocks off the cliff, Jesse took pictures of me, suddenly something seemed off about this arrangement. You are thinking it was that I was the one in the road tossing heavy rocks while my husband relaxed in the car, but while true, that was not what gave me pause. In fact it was the low sound of a rumble, slight, easy to miss, then the unmistakable sound of rock bouncing off of rock.
I looked up, hands muddy, just in time to see an avalanche of rocks headed for me. I scrambled over the unsteady ground, my cute leather flats becoming the glaringly wrong footwear for the outing. My heart racing and my eyes almost as big as the rocks the mountain was hurling at me. I don't know if Jesse saw it at the same time or if my panicked running cued him to looking up the steep mountainside, but as I approached the driver's side of the car, mentally willing it to get out of the way, Jess threw it in reverse. For a few yards I ran alongside the reversing car, trying simultaneously to not have my feet run over and not falling down the 1000ft chasm. The clashing of rocks slowed to a friendly ding as the final few came to a resting place in the road and my heart found a resting place in my throat. Jess instinctively looked at our son who sat wide eyed and mouth gaping in the back seat, making sure he was OK. We all, including the 'Tic Tak' were unharmed...other than the massive heart attack I was having. We exchanged nervous, relieved laughter for a moment and then reality struck, if we didn't get across this, we'd be stuck way up this mountain with evening approaching, the clouds getting blacker and no supplies. Jess quickly conveyed the urgency of the situation to me and I carefully tip toed back toward the path of the landslide. I moved as quietly and carefully as I could, not wanting to awaken the beast yet again. The adrenaline had my heart racing and it thumped in my ears. With shaking hands I ran for it, grabbing the largest of rocks and tossing them to the side as I went, Jesse expertly maneuvered through the path I made behind me.
Once back in the car, safely on our way again, we recounted the harrowing experience and how lucky we were. My head started to hurt and I felt nauseous. I felt shaky and my body buzzed with an ache all too familiar. Adrenaline releases cortisol, a potent, powerful hormone that had been the route cause of my symptoms while battling my brain tumor. I recognized the feeling immediately. I sat in silence for a few moments, full of emotion, partly because that was a scary as shit experience and partly because I knew that the cortisol coursing through me, wouldn't intensify, but would pass, and I was filled with gratitude that I was healthy again.
My son hates when I say corny stuff like "I'm going to really live because I thought I was going to die", and I remember rolling my eyes at statements like that prior to my health battles, but when you dream of far away lands and exotic adventures, when you think of how fiercely you love your husband and child, the thought that you could leave them, never see those places, never do the things you kept saying you'd do 'some day', something happens to you. I don't know that I will ever have the words to describe what it is like, but as I sat quite in the car, bouncing back down the road to our oasis roadside bar, excited laughter bubbling from my son and my husband's reassuring hand on my leg, I felt exquisite joy.
Now the trick is to really 'live it up' without possibly killing us all.
* This blog post is brought to you by the large amounts of wine we consumed to calm our nerves. I find that fear pairs best with a cool clean Chardonnay while anxiety pairs best with a bold Cabernet Sauvignon.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
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