Last year I began by writing about the bridge over the Russian River here in Guerneville and how it felt like something was watching Alli and I when we would cross it in the dark. For a long time we just didn’t cross the bridge at night – flashlight or not, let whatever is haunting that bridge have it until the sun came up.
We inadvertently found another place like that nearby – on the back side of what I refer to as “cemetery hill.” Ironically, it’s not the cemetery itself at the top of the hill – I mean, at least that would make sense! No, this comes as the narrow single-lane road leaves the last streetlights behind and twists its serpentine way down towards Old River Road. Interestingly, it’s not that whole dark section that creeps Alli and me out. No, it’s just a short portion about a quarter of the way in when the road has just become swallowed up by darkness that the hair on the back of my neck stands up, Alli strains against the leash and I pick up the pace.
Like the bridge, Alli and I would avoid that section of road at night. For a while at least…
It’s funny how life can make us leave behind our best intentions…
In the name of getting steps in for me and a good walk in for Alli, we’ve found our way onto both stretches pretty frequently lately. The same cold feeling that something is watching you is absolutely present, but expediency has won out. I do acknowledge the ghosts with a little, “I know you’re here and this is your spot,” and Alli will look back at me like I’m crazy as we hurry on through the night.
And she’s probably right – this year has felt more than a little crazy. Sitting down and putting together this first entry into what will be the sixth year of 31 Ghosts has been the first real pause in what has been a hectic year. After two pandemic years, the world seems to be trying to make up for lost time (and, it should be noted, still getting Covid – we’re not done yet!).
For me, it’s been a year all about acknowledging and confronting ghosts. For one, I’ve started acknowledging my desire to create content by starting my own business – Think Dude Think, LLC. – and using that as my imprint to put together and publish my first book (more details on that coming shortly, I promise).
In fact, my own ghosts have been precisely what’s driven Alli and I into those real ghosts’ territories – I’ve been working really hard to get into better shape. That’s meant not only eating healthier, but an egregious amount of working out, as well as facing my own ghosts. I’ve been heavy my whole life, but a few years ago I decided enough is enough and I needed to change my life while I still could. And while some changes have been dramatic – I weigh less now than I have in at least the last twenty years – others have been much quieter and more haunting. There’s the constant twin specters of “Why did it take you so long?” and “You really haven’t done much.” They always flitter about in the quiet times of night countering each other. They’re both rooted in self-doubt, the grand ghost of them all for me!
I’ve developed some tricks to fool these ghosts, though…
I participated in my first 5K obstacle race this year. That I even entered it took some ghost-avoidance. I told the doubting ghost that this was on my friend Lisa’s bucket list and I was just going along for moral support, not, you know, for myself! That worked, and once I was there I’m pretty good about focusing on the problem at hand and not letting the ghosts get me – heck, that’s why I was on the back side of cemetery hill the other night again! Gotta get those steps in!
But I found myself at the last obstacle called “Shock Therapy” that consists of electrical wires hanging down. And, lest you just rush through it as fast as you can, there are several barriers you have to step over or under that slow you and all but guarantee you will get shocked. Standing there I knew I would have to summon something else to get through those wires. Ironically, to conquer my doubting ghosts, I called forth a host of other ghosts…
I thought of my mom and how hard she worked after her lung cancer and how proud she would be that I had gotten this far. I thought of my uncle Chuck who I saw a few months before he died and I was at my heaviest and he suggested in the most gentle way anyone had that I needed to make some life changes. And I thought of my friend Kirk who died just a few months back. He’d battled his own demons for a long, long time until they finally got him.
I stood in front of those electrical wires at Sonoma Raceway in the warm morning of a gorgeous summer day when none of these people I loved could anymore – they’re all ghosts. For them I stepped over the lip into the wires. When the first shock involuntarily contracted my muscles and I almost fell, I kept going because I could, goddamnit. I’m here, and I owe it to everyone who I have loved and has loved me and no longer has the ability to do these things to keep moving. These ghosts carried me up Mount Tamalpais a few weeks ago when I wasn’t sure I had enough energy after a long bar shift the night before.
They can’t anymore. So I will.
Even sitting down and writing this first entry has meant facing the ghost telling me, “You know, maybe five years of 31 Ghosts is enough… do you really thing you can do this?” And then I think of my dad, who died 21 years ago today. I know he didn’t really understand my creative streak, not like my mom did. But I think of him reading these stories, and whether he understood the how or the why, I know he would be proud.
And so, let’s get this month started! Let’s push past these existential ghosts and have some stories about actual ghosts as the nights grow longer and colder, and as the veil between this side and the Beyond grows ever more thinner… Thanks for coming along on this sixth year of 31 Ghosts. Let’s see what kind of spooky we can find, shall we?
