ADRENALIN JUNKIE

ADRENALIN JUNKIE

I’m soaking in hot bath water at home, having run an ancient canyon in soft slanting rain. The track picked a tremulous line between arching cliffs and gurgling streams. Gnarled tree roots sprawled as if they possessed all the time, and oddly shaped river boulders made me laugh as I thought of how Dr. Seuss depicted them on the pages of his children’s books. I pictured myself in the canyon as a goofy Seussian character chasing a length of twine unfurling between boulders while massive fern fronds sheltered me from thingamajigs I could not see but knew were there.

I spring from stepping stone to stepping stone before scaling a boulder and jumping off the other side. Fact: I am a hard-wired adrenalin junkie assailing my senses every which way, I just can’t get enough. Fact: adrenalin is dragging me along by a leash, a masochistic master, pulling me left, now right. Most days I survive unscathed, other days… on Tuesday I sailed over the handlebars of my mountain bike on the Bald Head track. Thankfully I only accrued flesh wounds.   

Sunday evening – I grudgingly packed an overnight bag for the morning’s commute to the city. There I gladly served my two days of paid employment. Then I rushed back to my retreat in the mountains, ramped up the music, drank Lion stout and readied myself for five days of unpaid writing.

Thursday evening – I am busy in the kitchen with my beer and thoughts. When one of the latter arrives, I jot it down on mini white boards taped to the doors of the pantry and the fridge. I am cooking for friends. We start with a washed rind and a truffle cheese on Iggy’s bread. We eat in the lounge by the fireplace giving off a lovely heat fuelled by hardwood logs. We enjoy a whole roasted snapper from Fish and Fowl, the saving-grace delicatessen in Katoomba. The shop offers all manner of superior produce in bulk – porcini mushrooms, Herbies spices, bespoke cheeses. After the fish we enjoy sorbet and licking flames of ethereal blues and generic oranges.

Sunrise: I write first and then trade my ETFs. In the afternoon I hook up with a climbing friend and we visit the cliffs located below the Hydro Majestic hotel at Medlow Bath. I enjoy the melodies of the lyre birds while looking out for snakes. This is me each day – urgently gulping down life, next morning empty again. Where does it go? I suspect my belief in everything and nothing is part of the problem.