Welcome to my blog.
Expect reflections on long distance hiking, hiking culture, nature, creativity and my undying love for backrests.
All in roulette
I found the Holy Grail of bear bagging rocks. And I packed it out. I intentionally put a rock in my pack before hiking out.
So far, the Benton MacKaye Trail has been well-marked; well-maintained with only a handful of overgrown sections and zero blow downs. But it’s only Day 2 and anything can happen.
Two weeks ago, I asked Ralph what he thought and me taking a “little 300 mile walk,” and he said, “I think you should hike while you can....Also, it makes you happy.”
So here I am. On the Benton MacKaye Trail. It makes me happy.
I’ve got an itch that won’t be scratched by day hiking. So I’ve made a plan to safely hike a long trail in pandemic times.
On April 23, after breakfast and books at the Pupfish Cafe (in back of Spellbinder Books in Bishop, California), we rattled up Buttermilk Road a few miles and found another happy place.
“...our world, and the worlds around and within it, is aflame with shades of brilliance we cannot fathom--and is far more vibrant, far more holy, than we could ever imagine.” ~Sy Montgomery
“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.”
~John Muir
“You were made and set here to give voice to this, your own astonishment.”
~Annie Dillard
“Unexpected travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.”
~Kurt Vonnegut
It’s a rare treat to find a book about an epic adventure, especially a hiking adventure, where the author is generous and vulnerable with the details she shares.
I’m happy to add another book to that small collection. It’s called 48 Peaks: Hiking and Healing in the White Mountains by Cheryl Suchors.
“Quitting is fundamentally different from stopping. The latter happens all the time. Quitting happens once. Quitting means not starting again--and art is all about starting again.” ~David Bayles & Ted Orland, Art and Fear
They may have been talking about quitting art, but the sentiment is the same for long distance hiking.
Note to Self (And Other Middle Aged Long Distance Hiker Aspirants):
Never, EVER, underestimate the power of the trail to humble you. And maybe hurt you a little. Or a lot.
Also:
Your body is not fucking kidding when it says, "STOP."
