So you think you can dance?

Volcan Antuco is behind me, its 1:00 in the afternoon and the sun is doing more than shining: it’s burning. Ahead of me CJ and a German engineer that we picked up along the way are swaying in the heat waves. At this point, I’m almost finished with my Red Hot music marathon and it occurred to I should probably start hiking naked.

In his biography, Anthony Kiedis explains that the band name “The Red Hot Chili Peppers” is more a state of mind than the actual peppers. It’s the feeling, or rather the energy, right after you bite into a chili pepper, jump up from your seat, knock the waiter over, and drink the glass of water that bald patron was so tranquilly about to sip. In other words, it’s an uncontrollable energy that dominates all your focus. I started this Red Hot music marathon after I finished Kiedis´ biography. And while devouring his book I found myself becoming jealous. Not because of his fame, his 20+ stints in rehab, or because of the women that tattooed his name above their pubis, but because of his willingness to take a risk and to give the surrounding culture the tweedy bird if they didn’t approve.

So I thought, in my dehydrated state of mind, wouldn’t it be damn funny if I walked by them completely naked? And if not….. screw ‘em. Just the idea had me laughing out loud, so I took off my pack and pulled the iPod out of my ears. And before I completely stripped down to my Anthony Kiedis birthday suit, I had a small moment: ideas of getting naked make a hell of a lot more sense when you’re listening to music… so I put my headphones back in and continued to get naked.

First thought: You are ridiculous Simon Bresler.

Second Thought: No you’re not; this is how ancient man walked.

Third thought: Dude, you better be careful of sunburn.

Fourth thought: Honestly, who gives a shit?

So I began this ancient naked walk and continued, and continued, and continued. It took me 45 minutes to catch up to Cj and the engineer and when I finally started to pass Cj he just looked at me with the blankest stare I have ever seen. Apparently he was not thinking about naked hikers, so I started to laugh hard and then run, because Cj started to laugh hard and then quickly take off his pack to search for his camera. Now let me explain something, running in open wilderness, with no trees in site, from a telephoto lens is a bit like running from police equipped with radios: you’re not going to get far.

But do you think this stopped me? Nope. Not only did this not slow me down, it had the exact opposite effect. I started to run faster and faster then decided it would be an even better idea to have a solo dance party smack in the middle of this arid desert.

A small preface if you will: I can’t dance. In fact, friends have asked me to move away from them when I danced near them and few things have helped to rectify the situation. For instance, the two months I downloaded Salsa instructional videos to practice with my imaginary (but very attractive) dance partner Esmeralda, didn’t amount to shieza when I went up to Spanish Harlem to strut my stuff. Second, the one semester I studied fox trot in college, I ended up with 5 different dance partners as 4 mysteriously contracted foot problems. All of this doesn’t mean I don’t like to dance, it just means I don’t do it in public and when I do, its spastic and to its own rhythm.

So I threw off my pack and drew a big circle with the heal of my left hiking boot. I was determined, in my Chili Pepper state of mind, to just let it all go: drop everything and bolt for that glass of water. There was only one problem, or apparent problem. The German had caught up to me at this point and dropped his backpack exactly where I dropped mine and then proceeded to sit down. I pulled out an earphone out and said, ´´Joseph, I’m about to break it down right now, so if you feel like moving on, by all means, I’ll catch up to you later.´´ Apparently he didn’t feel like moving on because I began my spastic Chili Pepper routine and he just sat there and watched for about 10 minutes until CJ caught up and shook his head in one of those ´´my friend has really lost it´´ shakes, and they both continued on.

I think I danced for another 20 minutes when I realized I still had 8 miles to hike, should probably conserve some energy, and shouldn’t expose the unexposed to any more sunlight than absolutely necessary. So I finished the song (”21^st Century,” which was on repeat), said a few prayers, covered myslef, and began walking. And while I realized that on some level, albeit very small, I was taking culture’s clothes off, I was also putting my own back on.

Cheers,

Simon