Well, dear friends, the time is nigh.. I’ve only 7 shifts of work left and my sister is coming to visit from 3,000 miles away.. She hasn’t said so, but I imagine she thinks I might possibly really die this time, instead of just toying around with it like last year, and she must take this last opportunity to call me a butthead before I burst another blood vessel.. It’s not the plan… I love life.. and I have a son that I deserve to observe experiencing being an adult.. But if I have to give my body to the mountains or the desert, I’ve made peace..and will have been properly “butthead-ed” before I go.. I have a new shelter I haven’t attempted to pitch yet.. a new pack with the tags still dangling from it.. permits still in their envelopes.. feet still as soft as a baby’s ass.. no idea at all what I’m going to do for resupply in the Sierras (again) .. but I’m getting on a plane on the 12th of April and I’m going to start walking.. through inevitable panic attacks .. through insecurity and romanticized ideas of what I should be having revelations about… through bugs and mean plants… through burn areas that make me feel like Armageddon is NOW… But there will be Beauty.. and incredible people.. and surprise ice chests filled with Coke.. and silence as heavy as a wet sweater.. and people with problems… and laughter beyond my threshold of tolerance… and the endless swaddling rhythm of the walking … That makes everything truly okay.. like music in the body..
It’s just around the bend.. I’m leaving again.. (YES!)