Surviving Australia - January 2016

The wind lashed at me, warm air slapping my face. I was huffing and puffing, sweating and gripping the reins with all the strength possible in my small body. Norman, the young and apparently untrained horse that I had naively hopped on, was tearing off down a field, galloping furiously and with reckless abandon as I struggled not to fall off. My commands to halt were blatantly ignored and my voice had begun to fail as I accepted my fast approaching fate. It wasn’t the first time Australia had tried to kill me. Two weeks into my stay I had narrowly avoided being squashed against a tree as I sat shotgun in a pickup truck with Beverly, the older woman who had been employing my help. It doesn’t rain often in Australia but when it does, the ground quickly turns into pure mud and the last place you should be driving on. The mud can absorb your boots like quick sand and before you know it, you’re ankle deep in the thick sticky sludge. After the renegade vehicle independently came to a stop, I turned my head looking out the window and met the timber just outside. Beverly let out a whopping laugh and said something along the lines of “that was quite a ride!” It was just before nightfall about a month later, at a remote campsite on a popular island just off the east coast of the continent, when I received the first bite. I was with an oddball troupe of other foreign backpackers. We had almost finished setting up camp when something bit my hand, as I blindly reached down to pick up a piece of camping equipment. “Uh uh something just bit me…” was all I could stutter out. One of the group, a Brazilian girl looked at me with wide, fearful eyes, “Are you sure? What was it?!” We had collectively sat through the required safety briefing at the beginning of our three day excursion, where we were informed that there were no hospitals on the island and any serious injuries had to be helicoptered out. As the rest of the group gathered around, I felt another horrifying, sharp bite on the top of my foot, which was exposed in basic sandals. Looking down, I saw a disturbingly large ant, large enough that its pincers are visible to the naked eye and in a panic I shook it off. One of my fellow backpackers gently guided me over to our rental truck and sat me down as they debated what to do. The daylight was now totally gone, any traces of it blocked by the jungle of trees over our heads. I watched as flashlights switched on, a tense feeling arose in the air, the beams from the flashlights started moving around rapidly. I couldn’t see much but I could hear my companions speaking quickly and nervously in various languages, then suddenly in English, “They’re everywhere! All over the tents!” A strong tingling had taken over my hand and forearm, the same feeling in my foot, extending up my leg as both got progressively numb. Taking deep breaths, involuntary tears shed as I a the rescue. I’ll say this now, Aussies don’t give a shit. They grow up accustom to deadly things being all around and don’t have the same type of fears like most Americans do. The snake reared up, facing her as if to say, are you talking to me bitch? The tense standoff felt like an eternity until the cavalry arrived, as two of Alicia’s horses appeared on my right, causally walking over like nothing was amiss. As the snake was forced to slither away, I lived to fight another day. It was just a few weeks after the snake that I found myself clinging to the runaway horse, praying for some mercy. In some ways, I am typical of my generation when it comes to religion; raised Catholic, I don’t pray often, but when I do, I pray hard and loud. As Norman was hauling ass down this field, a fence was fast approaching up ahead. We going to hit it, I’m going to go falling. Hands up, cover your head. At the very last second, Norman whipped around, missing the fence by a hair. I miraculously managed to stay on, although in hindsight that would have been the perfect opportunity to bail out. My feet had come out of the stirrups, which would soon be a hidden blessing. The only thing keeping me on was white-knuckling the reins and clutching the saddle with all the might my legs and thighs could muster. As he took off back across the field, the bastard started bucking like he was possessed by the spirit of a rodeo bull. Who knows, maybe he was. Anyone who has experienced a moment that stretched a lifetime, when everything stands still for a brief moment will know what I mean. It happened once when I was about 17 and got into a car accident. As we were brutally rear ended, I found myself suspended in slow motion, with various contents of the car hanging midair next to me. Gravity is a funny thing like that, the car that hit us from behind caused everything to fly forward while the impact of ramming the car in front of us brought everything to a halt. a shoe and a pair of sunglasses dangling next to me as if it should have strings attached like a magic trick. As Norman threw his body up and down, midrun, I thought of my mom and dog. I didn’t want them to be left alone. I was so selfish, the whole trip, the last few months had been so incredibly selfish. Truth be told I hadn’t been doing jack with myself at home in New York. After high school, I promptly moved out of my mother’s tiny apartment, suffocating for space and independence. I found a job at a restaurant where I made a disgusting amount of money for someone my age, did a ton of drugs and drank every night, sleeping with strangers who’s names I never bothered to learn in the first place. I was an all around mess. College was dragging and I knew if I didn’t do something I would end up like many career servers, still making excuses for myself and why I never accomplished any of my dreams or goals. When it all came crashing down and I took what little money I had saved and ran. Bought a plane ticket to literally the other side of the world. What was intended to be a four week solo journey to clear my head turned into five months of being a nomad, living on my wits, with just my backpack and it was wonderful. The freedom to go where I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted. I had to reconsider all of this as Norman did his best to get my ass off of his back. I was a faker, I was no cowgirl, just a city kid playing pretend. I had been doing really good so far, kept dodging deadly situations, surviving, learning and growing. I wasn’t a novice with horses but I was no expert either. Up until that point, I had spent the majority of my time in Australia working around horses. Grooming them, riding, even spent two weeks working at a camp teaching kids to ride. When a contact I had made over the course of my stay let me know that he knew someone, who knew someone who needed an extra ranch hand, I jumped. The pay was going to be good and I needed the money to keep adventuring and exploring, to keep making excuses and voiding the inevitable return to New York, to my reality. How hard could herding cattle on horseback be? I had done some herding before, but on ATVs. Except ATVs don’t really have a mind and emotions of their own. So I’m clinging to this damn horse, paralyzed with shock and fear, mid contemplation of my life or deathexistential crisis and this rampaging jerk must have had enough of me at this point, because he gives this big jolt and I’m off. One of those moments that spans a lifetime, where I am just suspended midair like the shoe in the car. Before I squeezed my eyes shut, before the impact, it vaguely registers that I’m going off head first, the one day I’m not wearing a helmet, like a total fucking idiot. I guess I had enough air hang time though because I must have flipped, landing hard on my left leg then slamming down on my back, as I skidded across the dry rocky ground. Eyes closed the whole time I only remember the feeling of impact, tumbling, sliding, the air being knocked right out of me. After a long moment, I open my eyes and metal stares back at me. The hard steel of a gate was just inches from my face. I tried to take a breath and dust filled my lungs, dust that was engulfing and chocking. I tilt my head forward just barely and lean it against the surface of the fence. The heat of the midday Australian sun roasting my limp body. I lay there stunned and confused, how am I alive? I don’t feel the pain at first, too much adrenaline rushing through my body, I’m only aware that I’m laying on the ground in a slowly settling mound of dust and someone is calling my name in the distance, the good air slowly returning to abused lungs. Bobby the other ranch hand, my coworker who I just met two days prior is running towards me. It’s not until she tries to haul me upright that I realize my left leg isn’t working, I can’t stand on it and a brief panic overtakes me, quickly followed by a strained nervous chuckle. I’m still alive. Bobby calls attention to my back, bleeding and cut up from sliding across the ground. Later, nurses at the hospital will have to dig several stones and pebbles out of my skin. I’ll shed a few silent tears when they show me the x-ray, informing me that my ankle is indeed broken and surgery is needed. Tears knowing I was a fool to try and be something I’m not, tears for the adventure that had to come to a long overdue end. I couldn’t walk so I couldn’t work and I couldn’t continue exploring. Tears of mild relief, knowing that my wonderful mother and sweet little dog would be waiting anxiously, as they had been waiting for months. Tears of life, that I hadn’t broken my neck or cracked my head wide open. I had to believe that everything happens for a reason. Humans have to believe that everything happens for a reason, otherwise the world is just a chaotic, purposeless, nonsense mess and the good or bad things that happen are entirely random and that just feels too hopeless, too pointless. I had to believe I was still alive for a reason, that I still have unfinished business in the world and it wasn’t my time. I had to believe that each brush with danger and death was for something, to teach something. Australia tried to kill me, but it didn’t succeed. It did however teach me, in the same way that crazy drunk uncle pushes you in a river so you can learn to swim. I got thrown around, kicked and punched but I didn’t drown.