Steve Dilbeck: And I heard he can fly
I am an urban legend.
It’s true. After all these years, my peers speak of me in hushed tones. Even if they do not know my name, they speak of me incredulously, as if maybe it never truly happened.
It’s my mountain trek. The night bus after bus failed to arrive in the middle of the night, while I waited in 28-degree weather in Cesana. Finally deciding just to walk to my hotel __ 4½ miles and straight up for a 2,000-foot elevation climb.
See, whenever reporters wait for a bus __ which happens every single day, several times a day __ they speak of their bus horror stories. Always as a trump, my hike comes up.
A few days ago I was waiting for a bus outside some venue that has blurred with all the other venues with another reporter staying at my hotel and Gil LeBreton, a columnist from Fort-Worth Star-Telegram.
Naturally, we’re moaning about the buses when LeBreton says: ``Yeah, but did you hear about the guy who hiked up the mountain? Do you know who he is.’’
And the reporter pointed to me: ``That’s him right there.’’
Like I really existed.
My compatriot down in Turin, Paul Oberjuerge, said the legend has swept down the mountain and through the city scribes.
Paul said he was on a bus ride Sunday night with some reporters from the Northeast when one said: ``Some guy from USA Today was telling me about this American guy who had to walk, like five miles straight uphill to is hotel … in the middle of the night … because no buses ever came!’’
Said Paul: ``There was general acknowledgment that it was an amazing accomplishment. I was just sitting there a few yards away, smiling at hearing it come back to me from however many retellings it had been through.’’
What becomes a legend?
I’ll tell you as the myth spreads.
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