Three and a half days straight. I figured it was high time to get some sleep after developing a tic and seeing shadows dancing in my peripheral vision.
This thread also reminded me of a passage from a book called
Winterdance, a true story about a man named Gary Paulsen in his first Iditarod race. (A 1,000 mile sled-dog race through Alaska, from Anchorage to Nome)
He starts to hallucinate about 1/4 of the way into the race (this is days into it, already) in an area called Dalzell Gorge A.K.A. "The Burn" a barren Alasken hellhole with very little snow to cover the trees and rocks. Trails are nearly non-existent, and for an amatuer like Gary, it was absolute madness.
It started simply enough. I was hacking through a tree to loosen the sled when a thin man wearing a corduroy suit jacket, glasses, and a tie stepped up to my right and smiled.
"It's about time somebody showed up to help me," I said. "This ^^ is getting rediculous."
And he helped. He did not speak but he helped hold the tree while I chopped and grabbed at the handlebar when the sled blew forward, jumping on at the last second to ride to the next fallen tree.
On the way we passed a woman, quite lovely and completely nude, sitting on a grassy hummock. She beckoned to me to come but I shook my head. "I've got to keep moving." I said. "It's the race..."
She nodded and ran up to us, light and lovely on her feet, and jumped on the sled. "I'll ride with you."
The other man was still there and I worried that there would be a mess because he seemed overly interested in her and
I was intersted as well, and getting damn jealous and wondering how I could have some time alone with this beautiful creature and I blinked and they were gone and I was looking out over the dog team at the west coast of California just north of Santa Maria. There were surfers working ten-foot curls, men and women both, and I was pleased to see the female checker who had told me to to watch out for the down part of Rainy Basin wearing a string bikini hanging ten on a short board, and I blinked and there was a herd of wildebeest being chased by wild dogs led by Cookie (his lead dog) and I blinked and there was my wife beckoning for me to release the team and rest.
"Let go," she said. "I'll catch them. Don't worry..."
I nearly did, started to let go with one hand, but I blinked and she was gone and the dogs had stopped and Cookie was looking up at a Moose.
I blinked. I was learning faster now and while I couldn't make the hallucinations go away, it seemed I could change them by blinking, much like changing television channels.
The Moose however, did
not go away.
Sleep is good, oh yes, sleep is good.
