It Was Never Going to Be My Life

I don’t know what made me do it—climbing that mountain trail in the middle of winter in British Columbia. It was not my home or province.

If only my life could be more simple. Born in China, I was shipped to Canada for twenty thousand dollars to be adopted by well-meaning but clueless Canadians.

Two of them were needed to hatch the plot: an unwanted female baby from some low-income family in an obscure Chinese province who had to live in Ontario before she even knew her own country or her biological parents; what a story for a podcast! Except that it was me and my life!

#

I had extra work every day with lessons after school. I never had any long-lasting friends. Sure, the kids would be over for my birthday parties. But if I had a sleepover, no one talked about it! I was never the center of attention, except for how my parents spent so much money buying everything I wanted.

My former best friends would talk about how they were thrown over for the next “bestie,” and why I would ditch my friends all the time was something I never had an answer for. Only my teachers thought about what they would say to me before they opened their mouths. They would see me coming, their fake smiles hiding what they thought.

And who could blame them? My mother would write endless notes in my agenda about every little thing that happened in my classroom, insisting upon meeting with the teacher or even the principal about any problems, no matter how trivial. I figured this out only much later. They spent twenty thousand dollars to adopt me. Did they want their money’s worth?

I hated school. Why is life so hard? Why can’t I be like everyone else?

#

“You think we’d get a break!” yelled Dufus over the howling wind. He had his evening all lined up: a couple of pals to watch the game and a few beers.

Live ice hockey was being streamed on such a night, and now he was skating through temperatures so low that his snowshoes, like miniature nets, sifted a sea of blinding whiteness.

“Dufus!” replied Ellen. “You signed up for this, didn’t you? Mountain Rescue Volunteer! It’s not like you are getting paid!”

“So I can only complain when I’m with the Coast Guard?”

“You can complain all you want, but it won’t help you get that job, will it?”

Dufus sighed. He unloaded his pack with all his rescue gear from his car and started down the trail—the one Ellen was already on, the one disappearing with every step he took.

#

 I'm all grown up now and so over my stupid parents! They wonder why I never call, yet they send me money to travel everywhere. Even during the pandemic, I was here in beautiful British Columbia, soaking up the sun and posting pictures and videos on all the social media.

 Social Influencer. I like that name. You cannot call yourself a social influencer; it’s a name that others give you.

But I’ve earned it. For once, I’m getting the attention I want, and so what if it hardly pays and I have to work odd jobs and save constantly? Eventually, I’ll be famous, and everyone will hear about me.

At the hotel, I threw everything into my bag. The day was beautiful and sunny. My rainproof anorak seemed like enough for the cold. Not a parka, to be sure, but adequate. Doesn’t British Columbia have rainy winters?

#

Dufus had to lean on his knees momentarily and hide his face from the wind. It was only his second outing. Ellen was a regular, and he was only filling in—a newbie.

He remembered his training and shuddered at the thought that if someone is not adequately dressed in a mountain snowstorm of this magnitude, their survival can be measured in the low single-digit hours and even minutes. As for this cold, even when prepared, it was mind-numbing. Cold affects the brain directly, impairing judgement just like it did for people who died in the North Atlantic after the sinking of the Titanic.

He would ask a simple question that would stump people at parties: What is the worst pain you have ever known that everyone in northern latitudes experiences? Answers would include car accidents, giving birth, and breaking bones. Then, he would have to remind people that he meant the pain that everyone experiences.

Only one or two party-goers would get it right, and the rest would look around the room without a clue. Of course, extreme cold was that pain.

Then it was on to the punchline: Could anything else drive hundreds of thousands of Canadians to winter in Florida?

Ellen trudged back to see him, a look of concern on her face. “Hey there, MacDuff! We’re not halfway through this! Buck up, will ya?”

Dufus stood up with a wry grin. “If I stay close, you’ll shield me from the wind.”

Ellen laughed. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

#

This was one for the record books—beautiful sun and sweeping vistas of rock and forest. I took B roll and several selfies using a small collapsible tripod and a Bluetooth shutter. I even saw wildlife, a fox, and two rabbits!

So sensible, too. I started back at 3:00 PM. However, it was a little concerning that my whole trip started to look deceptive. The sun hides the cold. I saw that I was above the elevation where precipitation would freeze. Although there wasn’t much snow on the ground, if a storm hit, it wouldn’t be rain that I would have to deal with.

First, it was the wind. It brewed up in seconds—literally. One moment, it was peaceful and calm, and the next, I was battling to keep my anorak down over my sweater!

Then, the snow whipped across the ridge lines, looking like an aerial avalanche. It stung my eyelids and found its way everywhere: the folds of my backpack, between my hood and neck. Why didn’t I bring at least a scarf?

#

“Control, this is Ellen. We’ve arrived! Do you have anything from that cell phone?”

Ellen waited on the radio for a few seconds. “Control?”

Dufus sighed. “If we were in the military, we’d have something to track her cell phone. We’d be onto her by now.”

Ellen motioned with her hand for quiet. A thin, distant voice then crackled.

“Uh, negative, Ellen. Proceed as planned.”

#

It’s getting so cold and dark. I can’t cry because I'd have to take my mitts off to wipe my face. Which way is back to where I started? Where is everyone?

Now I’ve hurt myself tumbling a little way down off a ridge. This is no joke. It's getting serious.

I got my cell out, wiping the screen with a wet mitt, afraid the wind and snow might affect it. Here I am, giving travel advice to thousands, and I can’t stay safe. How embarrassing!

And worse, who do I call? Do I surf for the numbers for the local fire department or the police, or call 911? I called my boyfriend.

“Ned, I’m lost! My cell is so low on battery. All those videos and pictures I took!”

“Where are you?”

“Howe Sound Crest Trail in Cypress Provincial Park, north of Van! I don’t know who else to call!”

“I'll call around and get people to help you!”

“Please! I have to go. My cell phone is dying.”

“You’ll be alright. Love you!”

“Bye. I’ll call back if I can.”

#

“This is the worst ever!” Dufus yelled at Ellen, who was still a few steps ahead.

“Nah! It’s not the worst I’ve seen. You should have been here five years ago. We lost someone and nearly lost a team!”

“I can barely see five feet in front of me! How are we going to find this girl?”

“We have to try,” answered Ellen.

#

There are so many things to think about. It's better to stay in one spot and wait to be found. I was starting to feel warmer and more comfortable.

Then, my spirit took flight. I couldn’t be happier, not a care in the world. You never know how much life has to offer until you live it on your terms, set your own rules, and be the master of your fate.

I do it for everyone! I am finally free!