In the morning, we’re stILL NOT DONE WORKING, so we have to head back to Marion for the proper internet access. Womp womp. We spend another long day getting grumpy at all the civilization, and Spesh literally throwing up his hands in frustration is a sign that we’re done, even if we weren’t really done. That’s how it goes sometimes. Continue reading
Tag: brown girl on the pct
Miles 4745-5816: Bright Lights, Big Cities
The Twin Cities Metro: the largest place we’ve been in a long time, and I’m honestly feeling something like shell-shock, what with all the people. We eat breakfast, find a cafe to squat in, get to work; given that this is some of the best tea I’ve ever tasted, I’m not surprised when Spyhouse Coffee’s population skyrockets later in the day. The tables being communal, I’m also not surprised when I’m drawn into conversation by an entrepreneur developing his client base looking to spread the love. I’m flattered and all, but I don’t think I’m necessarily the best person to write copy for a home renovation company. That whole “living out of a car” thing. Continue reading
Miles 4082-4745: Water Water Everywhere
In the morning, at our free dispersed campspot in the Paul Bunyan State Forest, the bugs are less terrible, but we see more ticks than we did last night – yeesh. So we pack up pretty quick, and are up and out to Grand Rapids for a workday. Continue reading
Miles 3554-4082: Dearth and Excess
Apparently I push my mind too hard on our workday in Fargo, because this evening, after reading something entirely innocuous, I let my brain talk me into terror. It’s quiet out here at Buffalo River State Park, so quiet the wind is a distant whisper, and the creaking of the trees in the wet of the afternoon rain is haunting, otherworldly. I lose my goddamn mind when I hear footsteps in the gravel, see shadows leaning over the tent – I’m in a goddamn horror movie, they’re coming, I don’t wanna die like this. I wake Spesh and we do a sweep of the nearby sites. Nothing. Continue reading
I’ve been consuming a lot lately. Well, maybe not food, like I probably should be – I’m doing a surprising number of miles for living out of a Subaru, and I’ve likely spent the last week sore as a result of not eating enough. I’m not good with food. But I have a really hard time keeping myself from gorging on social media, mainly to keep up with people I care about, but also to indulge in that singular masochism that is reading the news.
And there has been so much news of late. Too much news to really recount. Continue reading
Stopgap: Canoefuls of Fun
Sooooo I have two posts ready for you – one about last week and one about the political climate we find ourselves in – and both of them are on my computer. In the Subaru. I, on the other hand, am chilling in the Boundary Waters after canoeing five-odd miles today. So you’ll get a post tomorrow and a post on Saturday; but meanwhile, here’re a few things about canoeing you should know before you go that I definitely didn’t learn the hard way, no way no how. Continue reading
Miles 1394-3333.33: Open Road
I wake up to the bubbling voices of my coworkers/compatriots, but as I’m wont to do on mornings where we’ll be departing, I spend the first bit of the morning packing everything up – all I’ll have to do is have my coffee, say goodbye, and then Spesh and I are off on the solo part of our adventure. By the time I’m satisfied with the progress I’ve made, I zip open the tent to find that I’m alone, all the cars gone but ours. Um.
The Park Formerly Known As Mukuntuweap
Despite the warmth in the tent, the morning outside is clear and fresh and fucking freezing, and it takes barely a quarter of an unzip to tell I’m gonna have a bad time if I don’t put on pants. Well. Summer’s coming. I hope. Continue reading
Miles 312-1394: Shifting Gears
I know it’s time to get up, but I linger anyway, staring blankly out the window of the Airbnb we’ve been ensconced in for the last week. I know what comes next, and I just want to enjoy this one, tiny moment, all to myself, before the rest of everything. The rest of the year. Continue reading
Miles 0-312: Training Wheels
One of the first things I learn about my new job – after driving in our new ride for the first time and meeting the other teams for the first time and making a family dinner that, despite the fact that it is the first time, actually feels like a family dinner – is that everyone, across the board, is an early riser. For the returning teams, this seems to be partially a function of the relative earliness of events, and for the other new team, it’s more a function of coming from the East Coast and attempting to maintain a
normal-for-them rigorous exercise regime; for Spesh, it seems to be a function of either insomnia or his ability to effortlessly fit in. Aaaand then there’s me.