5/6 Complete with Rough Chemo and the Noonmark Cafe

The finish line is near. For the first couple rounds of chemo, it seemed an abyss that one could never climb out of. Looking at a year of rough seas ahead when you're already seasick is a dim prospect indeed.

But, I did the only thing that I could -- pressed on -- and this week, providing my counts are high enough, we'll start round 6 of 6.

This last round promises to be another hellish affair, but I'm as ready as I'll ever be. The final sprint to the finish line is always the most painful part of a race, the night is always darkest just before dawn, and many other metaphorical cliches...

On the topic of endurance sports, I ran a marathon this weekend. Well, that's not exactly true... An employee (Erin) of an environmental advocacy group that we often work with ran a marathon with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's team in training program. One of my colleagues donated in my honor (thank you, Wheeler), and Erin tied the names of everyone who had donations in their memory or honor to her shoelaces. I hear that Erin finished the 26+ miles, and she deserves congratulations.

Those of you who know me well know that I've always spent my life in pursuit of adventure. My general philosophy on life has been to escape long enough to experience some terrific stories, come back just long enough to share them with some friends, then head out on a new adventure to build some new material.

This adventure has tended to take two forms that often overlap with one another -- exploring the outdoors and participating in endurance sports.

I suppose it is natural that I looked to fighting leukemia as an adventure as it has been the longest and most challenging endurance competition of my life -- I can only laugh as I look back and see that I chose to subtitle my blog "the leukemic adventures of Sam Weis" so long ago now.

The outdoors are an indescribably important part of my life. The influence of my grandfather -- who took me fishing beginning when I was three, -- the experience of growing up in the northwoods and working in a sporting goods store, combined with my sense of adventure and strong curiosity, all intersect to provide a nearly unparalleled appreciation for nature.

The closest thing to religion I have ever found is standing on the shores of a pristine trout stream lost in the wilderness, with the smooth cork of a fly rod in my hand. I will never understand creation, but I am left speechless and in awe of the world anytime I venture past the boundaries of land tainted by the destructive tendencies of man and head into the wilderness.

Jim Harrison says that there are two types of people in the world. Those who, if rich, would live in a palace, and those who would live in a cabin. Many of my best nights have been spent in a tent.

Which brings me to the Noonmark Cafe.

One of my favorite outdoor trips is backpacking in the Adirondack Mountains State Park in upstate New York. One of the unique features of the park is that communities settled within the parks boundaries before it became a state park, and are still allowed to exist and thrive in the park today.

As a result, the park is big enough that one can get lost in the wilderness for days, but small communities within the park provide a bit of comfort and history when you come out.

Now, I love backpacking. I love to leave the "conveniences" of chirping cell phones, laptops, cars, and the 24-hour news cycle behind, strap all my needed belongings to my back, and disappear for a few days. I find this to be a cleansing and restorative experience, and I try to do it at least once or twice a year.

And the best part about backpacking -- I also love it when it's over. Sleeping on a hard floor, fearing being eaten by bears, eating dehydrated food, shitting in the woods, and having to purify every drop of water you drink makes you realize just how many everyday luxuries we take for granted.

Inevitably after a few days in the woods of the ADK, as we begin to turn back and head out of the woods, my mind begins to wander to the Noonmark Cafe.

The Noonmark is tucked away in the heart of the high peaks region of the Adirondack park. What makes it so special is that there is nothing special about it -- it's just a small place that makes the calorie-heavy, tastey food that only tastes so good after you've spent 5 days deprived of hot, well-cooked meals.

It's the type of place where they don't care how bad you smell or how dirty you are, and where you could care less that you haven't bathed, showered, changed, or shaved in five days. It's the type of place where you can get a burger with fries smothered in gravy and wash it down with a blueberry muffin the size of your head. In short it's my kind of place.

And after 5 days in the wilderness, on the last night of a trip, I would salivate as I fantasized about hiking out and going to the Noonmark cafe in the morning.

And the Noonmark would never fail to meet my expectations when I got out of the woods.

On the eve of round number six, I look at it as the dawn of my last day in the woods. I still have to pack up camp, strap on my pack, and make the long hike out of the woods, but I am eager with child-like anticipation as I know that on the other side the Noonmark cafe, and my plate of fries smothered in gravy, awaits.

-Sam