Laurel Canyon – 3/6
It’s hard to leave Aravaipa. I felt my legs slow with every mile. I didn’t need maps to know it would end.
Lavishness like that never lasts.
Back in the hot, dry world of spikes and dust, the trail rose to a ridge and put my future on display.
I stared out at the peaks of the Santa Teresas, rising out of the low desert like a fortress. Behind them, across a vast nothing in between, the Pinalenos loomed like distant shadows.
I looked at my weary feet, caked in dried mud, and knew they’d carry me first to one, then the other, and then beyond the curve of the horizon.
What a feeling it is to move across the earth.