By Chris Turner
Director of Communications, TBC
I sized up the donkey standing about 15 feet in front of me; then I casually walked over. I kept my distance because I’m not an equine kind of guy, but I had something to say. I looked the beast of burden square in the eye and decided to keep my comments brief and to the point.
“I’m glad I’m not you the next five days,” I said with equal parts sarcasm, sympathy, and relief.
Soon enough, after about three hours on the trail, I began to call him, “El Loco,” translated, “The Crazy.” He meandered along at his own pace — drifting off from the other two donkeys and the group I was a part of. He wasn’t obstinate, mostly. Let’s just say he was his own donkey.
But that was all to come. For the moment, he stood there with at least 100 pounds of backpacks strapped to his back just staring at me. There was no reaction to what I said. I wondered, was he oblivious to the difficult descent along the rocky trail into the canyon below then up the other side where he’d have to grunt that weight up more than 2,000 feet of elevation change and over a nearly 11,000 foot summit? Or, was he silently sizing me up, plotting payback for what could rightly be perceived as an insensitive comment. [Read more…]