Battle Royale: Expectation Vs. Reality
Here we are, bottom of the ninth (final quarter, clock ticking down, insert your own exciting sports phrase here), and we’re locked in a gladiator style, thumbs up-thumbs down type fight between our expectations and the reality of our situations.
Sometimes the battle is Emile Griffith Vs. Benny Paret, and it does not end well for our expectations. Other times it’s the battle between Michael Phelps and the water, and the outcome is better than we could have ever imagined. It’s impossible to know ahead of time, and it’s nearly impossible not to have expectations.
I learnt my lesson (for the billionth time, it’s a lesson that doesn’t seem to stick) on a canoe trip the other weekend with my dad. We talked about going to Algonquin and doing some Bear Grylls style camping. We chose a weekend, got our equipment, packed our bags and headed out. I had many expectations for this trip; most of which were brutally crushed by reality, who was just sitting in the canoe mocking me. But I’m getting ahead of myself. In the immortal words of Willy Wonka (the musical movie version): Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination. (Though he seems to have forgotten the part where imagination is replaced by cold, hard truth.)
My dad and I, blissfully unaware of what the future holds.
Round 1: The Weather
In my imaginary canoe trip world, there is a slight breeze, the sun is shining, only the fluffy, pretty clouds are in the sky. This is what I call an unreasonable expectation. For starters, it infers that I understand or control weather; I do not.
Not the best weather for canoeing.
In reality, there was sun (enough to give me a pretty solidly uncomfortable sunburn despite the sunscreen I was wearing), but it kept disappearing behind the menacing clouds always on the verge of taking over the sky. Not only did the clouds threaten, they followed through, periodically dousing us with sky water (aka rain) as well as some unsettling thunder.
We most definitely did not let this stern reality check deter us. We donned brightly coloured ponchos, put our bags in garbage bags and soldiered on. So point to us, with an honourable mention to reality’s defeat of expectations.
Fluorescent ponchos, the newest trend on the runways this season.
Round 2: Canoeing
In my mind the canoeing itself (and portaging. Never forget portaging.) was going to be extremely difficult, arduous and take too long for my liking. I also imagined portaging to be something that would have been done in the opening number of Les Miserables. If you are unfamiliar with this reference, first of all I’m sorry that you’ve missed out on such a wonderful musical for this long, second, go familiarize yourself with it now (this blog post will still be here once you’ve finished the enlightenment) and thirdly, for those of you who hate musicals – which is something I’ll never understand, it opens with a chain gang breaking up rocks and doing various other back-breaking, exhausting and terrible jobs.
Along came reality. Turns out, I’m just as terrible at canoeing as I had assumed, but I don’t mind it when you can actually canoe continuously. When you’re stuck in a creek having to get out and carry the canoe over rocks, beaver dams, sludge, logs, through trees, etc., it sucks. Big time. Especially when there are leeches. (Shout out to my dad for ripping a leech of the bottom of my foot, cause there is no way I would have done it.)
Canoeing through the creek was… fun?
The other thing I learnt about myself is that not only do I not hate portaging, I’m actually quite good at it. I’ve spent years trying to find my secret hidden talent, and apparently it’s shlepping a canoe on my neck for several kilometres at a time.
My dad from a portager’s point of view
So the score in this round is a resounding victory for expectations! Set them low, and reality doesn’t have much crushing it can do.
Round 3: The Art of Camping
In the world that is Tali’s brain, we were going to canoe and portage all day, get to our remote campsite just before sunset, start a fire using a flint (thanks Bear Grylls), sterilize some lake water and relax. SPOILER ALERT: Reality beats expectations in this round until there’s nothing left except shattered bits and pieces.
Here’s where reality hits. Hard. Not only did we not get to our campsite before sunset the first night, we didn’t get to our campsite at all. Instead, we got stuck in a creek, my dad fell in the water while trying to maneuver our canoe over one log, under another and around a bend while standing on a pile of debris, and the sun disappeared completely. Our solution? Ditch the canoe at the side of the creek, bash our way through the most dense forest you can imagine, and set up camp in the tiniest clearing that barely fit the tent, on the side of a hill. When I say dense, I mean we had a Hansel and Gretel style rope so that we’d be able to find where we hung up the food in the morning (and by we I mean my dad. I was having no part of walking through the pitch black, most likely bear infested forest.). In the morning, in full light, it took us three tries smashing our way through the forest to find where we had left the canoe.
Goal #1: Don’t get eaten by bears!
Other than the unfortunate makeshift campsite, starting a fire was yet another expectation that got curb stomped by reality. According to what I’ve seen on Bear Grylls’ show, starting a fire is super easy, as long as you have a flint and striker. Well I did have that, but it took at least an hour of frustration and a removal of a layer of skin from my finger before I was able to start a fire. On the bright side, we were on an actual campsite (that we had claimed by squatters rights), and once I finally got the fire started there were plenty of hotdogs and marshmallows to be had.
Reality unequivocally won this round in a knockout. And the whole fight. Hands down. No contest.
And yet, even with reality’s crushing of expectation, I would still call the canoe trip a success. It may not have been what I expected, but I still had a good time, learnt a new skill or two, and came out with some great stories.
Even choppy waters at the end of the trip couldn’t wipe the smile off my dad’s face
So what can we gather from this? Just because reality and expectations don’t always see eye to eye, doesn’t mean the reality can’t be great, especially in hindsight.
