Date: 2004-12-19
To: nerves and anticipation
Miles today: 0.0

11am 12.19.04 Surrounded by the sights and sounds of the holiday season, inundated by Christmas carols from every available media, I realize w/ more and more clarity that I don¢t need anything this year, other than to know that my family and friends are healthy and happy. Health and happiness, that¢s all I ask for. Material crap? I¢ve got more than I need already. My pre-New Year¢s resolution is to rid myself of all this excess baggage that I tote around. I¢ve got more clothes that I know what to do w/, and don¢t wear anyway. I¢m up to my ears drowning in books (although I confess a reluctance to part w/ any book -- books contain so much more than their physical weight. They carry the promise of knowledge and learning.) But I¢ve got so much more than I need, or deserve. I speak of treasuring the simplicity of living in the wilderness. Now it¢s the time to put those words into action. I feel as if so much has happened to me in the past week. Since my declarative decision a few days ago, turbulent internal tides of emotion rise and swell w/in me. This tiny spark of hope and desire that I¢ve carefully sheltered and nurtured since that fateful day in June, when I chose to take my leave of the Trail, well, now it¢s burst into a full bloom of flame, occasionally consuming me. The drizzling rain spitting almost vindictively from the steel gray skies dampens the fire only minimally -- my dream of snowflakes remains a mental image, but there¢s hope for this evening¢¦12:45pm Transferring my journal to a digital medium once again, in the attempt to catch up (although, every word I pen sets me back¢¦). Reading the words from this spring, the world of the trail is recreated in my mind w/ such stark vividness, I can almost feel the weight of my pack, embracing me from behind, my sweat-drenched shirt plastered to my torso. Memories of trudging, tromping, toiling, ever uphill, trumped by vistas of unimaginable beauty. Nights spent in sleepless exhaustion, serenaded by stentorian snores of sonorous slumberers. Blisters, and chafing, and innumerable aches in creaky joints. Stumbles and stubbed toes. Scratches and scraped knees. Bitterly cold nights and swelteringly hot days. Looking (and smelling) unflattering (well, more unflattering than usual) as a normal course of being. Being rained on, and snowed on, and hailed on, and buffeted by gale-force winds. Cursing the trail as it goes straight up, and then cursing it once again as it goes straight down. And longing to expose myself to all this again, every cell in my body crying out for the opportunity. Momentarily, a panic surges up in me, at the enormity of what I¢m suggesting, even moreso than last year, as I now have the personal experience as a comparison. But, then I recall the joy, the journey, the discovery, and everything else pales in comparison. The journey that started, back on March 14th, on the top of a mountain in Georgia, I¢m still on it, being carried along by the current of time. But, I feel as if I¢m losing the perspective and objective I had begun to discover, the understanding of myself and the word it afforded me. And, the river of fate is sweeping me back to that mountaintop¢¦9:45pm Viciously windy outside. The rain from earlier today has become a coating of ice, glazed over every exterior surface. Blades of grass stand as frozen soldiers at their posts, heads bowed to the wind. Maybe the promise of snow will be unrequited, but the cold has settled in for a lengthy visit. My craze to keep myself up-to-date on all things AT has extended to my (re)discovery of whiteblaze.net. Now, I¢ve got two sources to twice and thrice daily fuel my AT hunger. It¢s strange, but I feel almost more nervous and excited now that I did last year. Perhaps it¢s b/c my eyes have glimpsed the long-distance hiking world, I¢ve already dipped my toes in the water, already had a taste of what¢s to come. Whatever the reason, I¢m more than eager to set off on the wooded footpath, embark on a journey northward, to discover myself, and to follow wherever the journey leads me. ¢Wherever we go in the mountains¢¦we find more than we seek.¢ -- John Muir