Tag: hiking

Day 88 – Midpoint

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The camp starts to move as one at 5:15, the growing light a call to our morning matins of hastily-munched pop tarts and languorously sipped coffee. Blessed is the Meerkat, I boast, for she is the bringer of coffee and consciousness. Six jokes about renaming her Coffeekat, but she’s so much more than that. Coffeekat is just an aspect of the wonder that is Meerkat. I finish as quick as I can to let her pack the pot I’m using, and then it’s packing up myself. I’m packed and up and out by 6:00, reveling in the glowing sunrise. Continue reading →

Interlude: Late Nights, Long Days

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I’ll admit that I kind of avoided talking about election season while it was going on. It was hard for me to keep up, honestly – I was kind of dealing with my own shit, dealing with the slow, inexorable decline of my endorphins, my dopamine, my seratonin, as I started to spend my days hunched in front of a computer instead of confidently striding down a trail. I mean, I kept up as best as I could while taking care of myself, but truth be told that was hardly better than it was while I was on the trail. I’d come into the living room to Spesh watching The Daily Show or @midnight and I’d get a few pieces here and there. I’d get on the book of many faces and see various articles that people had posted. That sort of thing. I didn’t hear much outside of my algorithm-induced echo chamber, but I knew, despite what I was hearing, that we were staring down the barrel of a potential Trump presidency. Continue reading →

Day 85 – Inspiration

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The first thing I notice after the silence of the evening is the loudness of the morning – a low-grade hum that seems definitely out of place. It’s definitely not hummingbirds. There are so many bees, and not the fluffy, bumbly kind. I stay in bed as long as possible, assisted by Meer donating some hot coffee to the cause, before running out and tearing down, bees investigating, but not stinging. I have to pee, but don’t want to expose my delicate ass to the bees, so I hold it and move on along. Continue reading →

Day 84 – Resistance is Futile

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The night continues to be dead silent – emphasis on “dead” particularly when, in the dead of night, I hear walking outside my tent. Slow walking. Step. Step. Step. None of the others are camped particularly near me, so my brain automatically interprets this as something trying to kill me. You’d think that’d make me spring up out of bed, alert and concerned, but my brain won’t let me move my arms or legs. Welp, I guess I’ve had a good run – I’m back asleep before I can think much else.

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Day 83 – SC CA

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I’ve left the fly off my tent, so I wake in the morning staring at the tree-mottled sky. I’m a little spooked at first – one of the trees is leaning RIGHT OVER ME HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS BEFoh it’s just the seam in the mesh. I take some time breathing, relaxing, soaking it all in. A brief moment sans anxiety; I’m just an animal, man. An animal breathing deep under the trees and the mesh and the down of my bag.

Welp, that’s about enough of that. I’ve got a town to get to. Continue reading →

Day 81 – Feeling Hut Hut Hut

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I struggle to stay warm all night, even with my leggings on, even with my wool Buff as a hat and my normal Buff as a scarf and my sleep shirt on. I probably need to wash my sleeping bag soon, I think, as I’m up for far too long in the middle of the night. When my alarm finally goes off at 4:45, it’s hateful to me, and I hit the snooze button and reset things until 6, when I finally rouse myself. I’m not looking forward to more mornings like this.

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