Montana Mountain – 2/27
The secret to long distance hiking isn’t walking far in one day, it’s waking up and doing it again, day after day after day.
Everything hurts. The trail reveals all your soft places, leaving them bruised and aching. Hips worn raw from the pack’s weight. Hands torn up from thorns. Back and shoulders sore. Legs heavy and tired.
But I woke up and did it again.
I struggled down a wash then up a beautiful wide mountain surrounded by rocky desert peaks, then dropped over a high pass into a steep, boulder choked canyon were cliff dwellers once lived in a small cave fifty feet over a rocky stream. Tracing the stream higher and higher, sometimes following no more than pools of water trapped in stone, I climbed from the desert floor until the world stretched below me. Far in the distance Phoenix glowed and I could almost trace the last two days through the jagged peaks and canyons along the horizon.
I slept looking out at the world. The pieces I’d crossed and the pieces yet to come, the ones that are part of yesterday and the ones waiting for the next tomorrow, the next day I’d wake up and do it again.