Busting out of here because . . .
We’re hitting the road again today, husband, writer, and dog, heading for Colorado to relax for a while because:
I AM ABOUT TO GO ON TOUR!
First things first. Some of you may know I’m a Wilderness First Responder. Which means I’m a certified medical expert in all matters dirt and flesh and bone. Cool, huh? Not that I’ve ever had to use any of my skills–thank heavens–but I wanted to get the training because sometimes I find myself backpacking in remote locations–like the freezing, wet, wind-crazed, non-National-Park-like setting of the Icelandic wilderness–and I was tired of wondering, “Now what would I do if my man fell down a hole and broke his femur and I had to figure out how to survive without eating either of us?” Plus, now that I’m such a fan of Lost, I’d want to be able to hang with Locke and Sayid and maybe take over for Jack while he’s off in captivity on the other island. Because I know what to do if someone impales his eye with a stick. Or falls off a cliff while checking out some plane wreckage and gets a sucking chest wound. Love the term “sucking chest wound.” Never, ever want to see one, thank you.
So four years ago I went through this intense training to become a WFR, and now every two years I have to get recertified. It will mean three days of splinting, bandaging, making medical supplies out of dental floss and duct tape–you know, the basics. And the class is in a town known as “America’s Icebox,” so you know all those outdoor sessions where we pair up and one of us lies on the ground moaning and the other tries to figure out what’s wrong will be extra fun. Just so you know, your emergency care provider does resent having to take off his or her fleece-lined gloves just to feel for your pulse. But if we wanted the cush life, we could just watch Man vs. Wild on the Discovery Channel (I ADORE that show).
So we’ll drive for a few days, I’ll take that class over the weekend, then I’ll enjoy a nice long week of yoga and reading and DVDs and the best coffee in the world, bar none.
Why the need for such extreme down time? Because right after I get back, I’m heading out on something called a Buzz Tour–five cities in five days, up at dawn, get to the airport, fly to a new city, spend the afternoon with some teens and the evening with some booksellers who have all read advance copies of my book, get back to the hotel and collapse, up at dawn again, rinse, repeat.
Which I am SO EXCITED about I can barely stand it. Can’t wait to go all those places and meet all those new people. But I recognize the need right now to spend some time chilling out (where better than America’s Icebox?), so even though I’m always willing to just stay home and do the same thing day after day, I’m forcing myself to change scenery and put my brain someplace else for a while.
So anyway, you’re thinking, “Yeah, yeah, yeah–how does this affect me?” Only minimally, I’m hoping. It means sketchy moderating while I’m on the road and in class, but I’ll catch up at night and in the mornings. And it means whether you like it or not you’re going to be hearing my classmates’ stories of dislocated shoulders they had to fix river rafting trips, and busted up clients they had to evac from mountaintops–you know, mundane stuff like that.
It’s always a little odd when we start out the WFR class going around and saying who we are and what our jobs are. Everyone else is a kayak instructor or a climbing guide or some other burly job (especially love seeing the burly women–I always leave there resolved to work more on upper body strength). Then they get around to me, and so far in two sessions I’m the only writer in the group. You can see in everyone’s eyes they’ve instantly branded me as soft. But I’ll show them. I always get really high scores on the multiple choice test. Being a bookish girl does pay off. Plus I’ve gotten pretty good at wrapping sprained ankles and creating leg splints out of tent poles and sleeping pads. So there.
And by the way? These are my people. The Fleece People. You won’t find a single person there dressed in anything but the most practical outdoor wear. We are the people who live by the motto “cotton kills” (which it literally does in a cold and wet environment, so don’t do it). We are the people who know the secret of the Pee Bandana (which, for the record, I refuse to use, but that’s another post). We’re the people who when you say, “My girlfriend’s just been bitten by a rattlesnake! Should I suck out the poison?” will scream at you, “NO, YOU FREAKIN’ LUNATIC! ARE YOU INSANE?”
Can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait . . .
Technorati Tags: Writing, Publishing, Young Adult Fiction, Book Tours, Wilderness First Responder, Wilderness First Aid, Man vs. Wild
March 1st, 2007 at 7:23 am
Wow.
So what DO you do when your girlfriend’s been bitten by a rattlesnake? Tourniquet, X cut and suck and spit is what we were taught in Girl Scouts many years ago.
March 1st, 2007 at 7:50 am
Fleece Girl, my wife has just been bitten by a vampire, should I tie her up in sunlight? Or should I go after the master vampire who made her?
PS. this post deserves a Fleece Girl installment, but I don’t think it is going to happen today despite the story already swirling in my head.
March 1st, 2007 at 8:07 am
What to do? You wash the wound with soap and water, then immobilize the affected limb, just as if it were broken. You keep the patient calm (this is a huge part of it,since patients can make themselves go into shock just by the force of their imagination), and you start walking him or her out. There isn’t a good field rememdy, so that person has to get medical treatment.
And while you’re evacuating, you’re keeping track of the vitals and any symptoms like swelling. Because not every snake bite injects venom. Some are “dry bites.” This is another reason not to let the patient freak out, screaming, “I’m going to die!” since it’s quite possible nothing more will come of it than two nice puncture wounds.
Patrick, I’m not sure about your situation. I’ll have to ask the instructors.
March 1st, 2007 at 8:13 am
Robin, I swear you love to tease. A 5 cities tour. And what 5 cities are we talking about??!!
I thought Fleece Girl had a secret cave where she kept all her fleece vehicles and a fleece herder who provided for her every need.
Now we find out that she is part of a coven of fleece people.
The older I get the less I understand.
March 1st, 2007 at 8:17 am
Herb, I’ve been hesitant about saying which cities because I’m pretty sure the events are closed to everyone but the actual invitees, but I’m in the process of finding that out for sure.
But okay, I’ll spill: San Francisco, Seattle, Chicago, Ann Arbor, Dallas.
March 1st, 2007 at 9:00 am
Since my life is really all about finding the perfect cup of coffee, I’ve ordered a pound of the SledgeHammer roast and will sip in here in the sunshine while you’re off rolling around in the snow.
Have a great time! I’m sure you’ve read Pam Houston, being that you spend so much time in the mountains and you’re such a Fleece Girl, but if you haven’t, one of her books would be a great way to while away a day while drinking Camp 4 Coffee. (www.pamhouston.net.) COWBOYS ARE MY WEAKNESS is one of my absolute favorite books.
I have high hopes for this coffee, but it can never be more than second-best for me — my heart belongs to some local Tucson roasters, Adventure Coffee. http://www.adventurecoffeeroasting.com
Have a wonderful trip!
March 1st, 2007 at 9:28 am
Robin, thank you.
Space Lord, I humbly suggest that since you never sleep, it’s not a problem, just hang with her. Has Little Space Lord inherited your powers?
March 1st, 2007 at 10:30 am
Laura, Pam Houston was one of my first writing teachers. Love her.
March 1st, 2007 at 2:59 pm
Stay warm and safe-you may be having 3 dog nights. I see several storms coming in from the Pacific.
Best of luck on the tour.
March 1st, 2007 at 3:02 pm
I don’t think you have enough titles following your name.
Robin Brande; former attorney, debut author, Yogi, WFR, Chocolate gifting Goddess….
Come on now. I think you’re slacking.
March 1st, 2007 at 7:02 pm
Heather, it’s like dating: if you tell somebody all your stories at the beginning, what’s left? Wait till we get to my days in the circus.
Laura, I forgot to say that ordering Sledgehammer was the absolute right thing to do. Way to get right on it. You will not regret it. (And is that not the coolest name for a coffee?)
Herb, can’t tell you about the Fleece Tribe. But you may join us at our annual feast (location to be disclosed one day prior) and see if you pass all the initiation tests. Hint: you’ll want to wear closed-toe shoes.
Readerdiane, thanks for the heads up. What will I do without even one dog with me? Can I rent?
March 1st, 2007 at 7:27 pm
You have such a cool life.
March 1st, 2007 at 8:28 pm
Robin,good luck on the tour(you’ll be a hit,I have no doubt about it)and have fun with your fellow Fleece People. Oh,and if Patrick is still in need of a solution to his vampire probelm,let me just say that the sunlight treatment is a last resort deal only.
Killing off the master vampire only works if you get him/her(hey,grrl power is not just for the living,people!) before your loved one has become fully vamped:i.e. feed off of another person. And I don’t care what the Blade movies say,silver doesn’t do squat against a vamp! Besides,I’m sure the Fleece People can whittle up some stakes in a pinch:)
March 1st, 2007 at 8:54 pm
Lady T, I’m sure I’m not the only one who had no idea about any of that. Thanks for the scoop. Patrick? Satisfied?
Deborah, reading your comment just now made me laugh, since I’m sitting here in a hotel in Holbrook, Arizona, definitely not living the glamorous life. Bear is wandering around resniffing everything about 40 times because he just knows there have been other dogs in here, the husband is sitting in bed watching basketball on TV and eating some fabulous German chocolate we got as a surprise in the mail today, and we just got back from enjoying some heavenly Mexican food at a little place that looked like a dive from the outside, but was totally packed with locals (always a good sign). Green chili stew, bean burro, sopapilla–I agree, this really is the good life and I feel incredibly fortunate. Maybe it’s not as glamorous as going to New York last week, but I’ll take a road trip with my husband and dog any day. Especially if I can get great Mex along the way.
March 1st, 2007 at 9:02 pm
So I guess I’m the only person who’s ever pulled a king snake out of a swimming pool and got bitten for her pains. But the two little old ladies were on their way for their daily swim, and I KNEW they weren’t gonna want to swim with “Satan”….
That was the same year that we (I was working for a developer of new custom homes) had rattlers outside the front door, the back door, the side door, the car doors - every door on the place (the clubhouse/office for the development) which is fairly close to some won’t ever be developed desert-tortoise preserve lands.
So the boss’s son says after the boss’s wife relates the tale of me grabbing the snake by it’s tail (WITHOUT mind you falling into the pool - a MORE than major accomplishment for totally-uncoordinated-me!), “how did you know it wasn’t a rattler?”
To which I replied, “The color was wrong, and it didn’t have the diamond pattern on its back”.
They didn’t get it. People who don’t get it shouldn’t be allowed to live in the southwest….
[I have a couple of small round white puncture scars on my right mound-of-Venus (the one on my HAND, you perverts!) - and Satan (all 5+ feet of him or her) went off to make eggs in the nice warm desert sand....]
March 1st, 2007 at 9:12 pm
Vc, whoever you are, you are BURLY. I bow to your burliness.
March 1st, 2007 at 9:16 pm
I’m a friend of bj’s.
March 1st, 2007 at 9:29 pm
That explains everything, since BJ, as we all know, is kickass herself.
March 3rd, 2007 at 7:10 am
CORRECTION: Forget what I said about walking the patient out. That’s a last, last resort. Ideally you want to evacuate by having rescuers carry the person out–IF after half an hour there are indeed signs of envenomation.
And remember to take off any rings or other constrictive items near the affected area, since there might be swelling soon, and then that fabulous diamond ring will have to be cut off.
And don’t apply ice to the wound, since venom starts its digestive process, and freezing it will just keep the poison concentrated inone place. Instead you want blood to get to the area to start working on it.
You know what? Just don’t get bitten. Save everybody the trouble.
March 5th, 2007 at 9:15 pm
Actually, I’ve got a “just missed by the rattler” story too, only it was my horse not me (or well, not me immediately, though I was “along for the ride” as it were….)
Lovely trails up our mountain, so of course we ride when we can. (And when we have two good horses, which we don’t right now…. but that’s another story….)
Few years back, we’re headed up the trail behind and south of our house. Get up into the lovely cool dark timber, little trickle of water in the creek, crossing it back and forth….
All of a sudden, my horse (the spotted dog bigger than our Brit….) stops dead, then LEAPS up the hill about 10 feet. I’m yelling, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU FLEA-BITTEN SON OF A SALSET GOAT!” (borrowing freely from Jen Roberson obviously but I don’t think she’d mind).
Husband, coming along behind, looks at the place we WERE, and says, “Oh. Well, shit - I should have brought the pistol after all…. that’s a timber rattler!”
Saved by the “spotted dog of a salset goat” again….
[Note: we don't go out of our way to shoot poisonous snakes. They deserve to live just as everything else does. BUT. On a fairly well-used trail, we will kill them if they don't immediately head for tall timber. This one didn't, so husband did it in with a large rock, since he'd forgotten the pistol. You only have to think about a child being bitten.... and a lot of people hike these trails with kids and dogs - and the occasional cat.]