An Unexpected Result

This past week/weekend I journeyed to the Rockies with my beautiful bride. Not on a vacation nor celebration of years married but on a mission of sorts.

The Mission: Jun 28-Jul 2 report: 1.With the appropriate gear, proper physical fitness and an open mind participate in a wilderness therapy for Veterans in Aspen Colorado called Huts for Vets. 2. Go to scout out the program to see if it is a viable program to recreate here in Arizona for student veterans at Arizona State University. 3. Report back all pertinent information to your "command" upon your return.

The mission itself seemed simple. I wasn't required to do anything but go, scout, report. I didn't even have have the money to fly there and back and meals and lodging would be provided. This was my kind of mission, one I had done on many occasions while on either active duty or national guard duty.

Pre-Mob: So the preparation for SP was on. My wife and I did purchase some gear and borrowed some more to make sure we would be prepared for the different climate and rugged terrain of the Rocky Mountains (I don't even own a coat anymore here in the valley of the sun!) We packed our gear to include the appropriately purchased pogey bait, we worked on our cardio in the gym and anxiously awaited the day we would leave. I say anxiously because well, truth be told, I was nervous. I have spent many hours in the gym since my retirement but those hours have been spent on upper body lifting. Since retiring, I set a personal best bench press of 455 lbs and my wife actually pushed up 225 lbs as well! (shes all of 135 lbs) My anxiety came from knowing that my cardio health hasn't been good at all. I had been diagnosed with high blood pressure just before retirement, didn't treat it. My wife and I went on one hike here in Arizona up Squaw Peak and I thought I had suffered from a small heart attack! I have since been treating it with some weight loss (40 lbs) and a daily pill to keep it under wraps. But that didn't keep me from worrying daily about weather or not I would make it through this trip alive. I even jokingly(or maybe not so jokingly) said a just in case farewell to some people I'm close to!

Oscar Mike: We push, "outside the wire" so to speak. A short flight to Salt Lake, a layover and a short flight into Aspen CO. Upon exiting the airplane and walking into this rustic Aspen airport we are met by this unassuming and kind faced man. "Hi, I'm Paul Andersen, come he said, beckoning us to follow him to meet the rest of the team. We followed, me reluctantly as I dreaded what might happen. Thinking to myself, this could be the last time I get off a plane, the last trip I would ever take, I could literally die here in Aspen Colorado. But I followed anyway, I reminded myself that I had once said nearly the same thing over 10 years ago getting off the C-130 all geared up on the tarmac at Camp TQ in Iraq and every time we rolled outside the wire leaving on yet another combat mission. So I whispered to myself there in the Aspen airport, "Oscar Mike, Shawn, Oscar Mike".

Four Miles in Flip-Flops: You read that correctly. Paul Andersen, the founder and facilitator of Huts for Vets took us on our acclimating hike around the story book town of Aspen. We hiked around the town, through creek beds, up and down hills, across fields, trespassing a conference of ideas and strolling through doll house like neighborhoods. All along Paul spoke of the history of this famous little town nestled in the mountains of Colorado. Paul, a long time resident historian, author and journalist gave us the grand tour and promised our knowledge of Aspen would be greater than most locals after he finished his narration. I felt completely fine on this hike as I watch him traverse different surfaces in just a pair of flip flops and a smile. He didn't even seem to breath as he regaled us with the local lore. I was beginning to let my anxiousness go a bit, at least until he stopped to show us the bear claw marks located several feet up the trunk of many of the beautiful aspens that spanned a small neighborhood. (Bears, oh yah, there might be bears!) Not only am I worried I won't make it because of my health, but now I have to contend with not being last up the mountain, because I figure that's who gets eaten by the bear!

The A team: Paul wasn't alone. He was flanked by some of the most amazing people I have met in my 46 years. The Huts for Vets board members consisted of "The Colonel" Dick Merrit, (a retired Marine Col and Vietnam Vet), a retired Aspen Police Officer and Vietnam Vet, Dan Glidden, aptly named "Danno" and Don Stuber (Vietnam Vet and who surprisingly spent most of his childhood summers at family ranches around Crawford and Chadron Nebraska and Oelrichs, South Dakota where Jodi and I raised our family for the last 20 years!) and our two Hut Masters Tait Andersen and Jake Sakson. Not a day on this trip went by that you weren't somehow taken care of, cheered on or fed by one of these outstanding men.

FOB Tee Pee: After our acclimating hike through the idyllic Aspen, we were driven to base camp. We were the first to use FOB Tee Pee. The team had set up three massive tepees to house us at base camp and had built and supplied their own "chuck-wagon" to feed us out of. The base-camp was equipped with an outdoor shower (with heated water!) and an outdoor pit privy with the most magnificent view someone could ask for when answering the call of nature. We slept our first night there in the teepees and I awaited my fate the next day as we would begin our ascent to Margy's Hut early the next morning. Sleep was, as I would find over the course of the next few days, something that escaped me.

The trail-head and beyond: I was about the first to wake that fateful day, about 4 a.m. I think. It was cold and I was still full of anxiety but as I drank my cup of joe in the cool Colorado morning air I knew that I had come this far and as with most things that were immanent I would either accomplish it or die trying. Essentially, I said, "Shawn, ball up and be a man!". Paul and the team drove us about 45 minutes to the Leondo trail head and the hike began. We started that day and elevation of 8,640 feet with a warning from Paul, "We will have really only one point on the hike to turn around if you don't think you can make it. otherwise, you have to be all in and complete it." I was sure he looked my way when he said it, but I looked him in his eyes to make sure he knew that I was in it until the end. His gaze left mine and we embarked. I stayed right behind Paul for the initial push, it was uphill but not horrible. Still my breathing was labored and I knew Paul could hear it. I wondered like I had many times in basic training if I had what it takes and would this new more gentle but just as tough drill sergeant recycle me at the only turn around point. I pressed on. We stopped and Paul did send someone back. He didn't send them back like, "you have failed at this station! You are a no-go!" It was simply put to this person, that the hike will only get more difficult from here, the air will begin to get thinner and the hike steeper, so I want you to consider turning back to the trail head and driving up with some of the team headed to Margy's. It wasn't me, though I thought about turning around on my own at this point of no return. I kept thinking, I wonder if I can do this, we still have to climb to almost 12,000 feet, how are my bones going to hold up, will I have enough in my lungs to handle this? Will I have a heart attack?! I decided to keep my resolve to do it or die trying. After all my wife was there, how could I let her down! I had to be the strong man she has known for all these years.

About 8 miles in: We had crossed rivers on logs, sat in the grass and ate our lunches, taken in so much of this valley and now we were on the home stretch. I had passed up the last chance to get water from the creek because all I had was a camel back. Paul had a water purifying piece of equipment that you could use in a water bottle so you could drink the river water but it wasn't made to clean water in a camel back. I thought, "I'll be fine, I think I have enough in my pack." I was wrong. I had forgotten that as your body is using up oxygen, you will need more water than normal. I drank my pack dry. I couldn't get the oxygen to my heart to pump to my legs. They felt like they weighed 50 lbs each as I drug them up the last two miles of the 10 we did that day. I had to stop so often that all the others passed me, save one, my wife. She watched as I struggled. She watched me as I went from Hero to Zero (in my eyes anyway). She wasn't really struggling at all. She patiently stopped with me, sat with me on logs along the way, gave me some her precious water from her pack. She quietly said, "You got this hon, I know you can do it." I wasn't sure I believed her at the time, but I had determined not to quit. 75 year old Danno had hiked down from Margy's to check on me, he and The Colonel actually (the day they hiked down to see me up was the The Colonel's 83rd birthday....Cue the humiliation.) I trudged on until I thought it was over for me. I had helped The Colonel and Danno up this steep rock step by pulling them up with one hand, so I knew I still had strength in my arms. I wasn't completely out of gas, but I needed water. Danno stayed as I nearly passed out onto a log and before long I heard two voices coming from behind us on the trail. It was Paul, calm, ever present Paul and his son Tait. They sauntered up like they had just walked over from the house next door to get a cup of sugar. Tait said, "Hey Shawn how are you man? I said, "Tait, I need water man, I'm out!" Tait replied with a smile and half a chuckle really, "No problem man here's mine, chug this dude. I did, and gave some to my wife. I thanked them and asked is it much further? Tait, like his dad was aware of how I was doing, said, "It's just around the corner really, you are almost there what do you need from us to get you there?" I asked would you lead? I need to follow. They led, I followed, I finished.

Unexpected results: I finished last. I never finish last. I hate to finish last! It wasn't just that I was last, but some 70 and 80 year old dudes beat me up the mountain that day. To top that off, my wife had to see me in the most vulnerable state she has ever seem me in. I was ashamed, embarrassed and more importantly I questioned my own self worth. I don't know if I had ever found myself in that place before. In fact, I have typed and typed this story out and I wonder now if I should publish this letting other's into my little wimp moment. Oscar Mike Shawn, Oscar Mike. The thing is, even when I am weak then I am strong. What I saw through the rest of this weekend of hiking a marathon (yep, 26 miles in all, from an elevation of 8640 ft to about 12,000 and back down again) that the relationships I built on this trip were so very unexpected and so very rich. Even though I lost going up the mountain, I won on top of it. I was encouraged, strengthened, loved and accepted by my fellow veterans. And even though the mission had been clear that I would scout this out, gather intel about the wilderness healing process to see if it was viable back here and unexpected thing happened to me. I began to heal from things I didn't even know I needed healing from. It's true that combat will change a man or woman, but I can testify to the fact that coming back together with veterans who have walked a mile or 26 in your shoes can change you again, and for the better. What it takes in as simple of terms as I can make it, is someone who gives a damn. Huts for Vets does. The team there cares for veterans and will go the distance to bring peace to the hearts of our warriors. Thank you Paul and the rest of the team of Huts for Vets. This warrior is forever changed. Thank you for the unexpected results.