Total Miles: 1,916.9
Past Granvik, Sweden – September 27, 2016
Has it really been a hundred days? Sometimes it feels like I stood on Kinnarodden yesterday, staring out at the ocean, heart beating, waiting to begin. I can still hear the waves when I think of it, I can still see them crashing into the rocks below.
What day did Erna look up at me from her garden in Kunes? What day did I sit down at Asfrid and Oddbjørn’s table in Lakselv? A week in? Two weeks? Those were good days I spent among them.
One day was all with Miriam and Pinu at Knivskjelodden and Nordkapp, still the only person to walk with me other than Theodore Jones. Good old Theodore Jones. He had two days. I still miss him. He could make me laugh through the thickest mud and bogs. I wonder what he would think of me now. Probably the same, that I walk too slow, that he should lead, and that I’m mean to not share my bread with him. Where are you now, Theodore Jones? Where have all the reindeer gone anyway? When did I last see one? How many days ago was it. Ten? Twenty?
There was the day I met Fritz and Christof in the rain and they gave me fish. The day spent hiding in my tent as rain kept coming. The day the Sami herded the reindeer into a circular river.
Days of rain. Days of sunlight. Days somewhere in between. The day I saw the moon from Halti. The day the first stars appeared in the sky. The day I raced the storm to a cabin.
There was the day tracking down new shoes in Kiruna and partying with crew from the Coop. The ten days between resupplies that almost broke me. The day after that someone stole my batteries and I met Martin and Henriette. I wonder if they are parents yet and if they really named their son Daniel.
Stian bought me dinner on one of the days. Then came the day weeks later when I arrived at his house in Trondheim. A day shopping for clothes with Anja. A day dancing with strangers. A day dancing with acquaintances. A day dancing with friends. A day saying goodbye.
There’s the day I crossed the Norwegian border into Finland. The day I crossed back. The day I touched Sweden. The day I left Norway. The day I reached Henrik’s house and had three packages waiting for me. The day I walked back and cooked Cuban food for four.
The days racing south. The days I didn’t move. The hard days. The easy ones. The ones thst mosquitoes drained my blood. The ones that filled me with chocolate or ice cream.
A hundred days.
How far I’ve come. How the little pins on my map stretch north like a constellation to mark every night.
What will the next hundred bring? What new memories? What adventures? What mistakes? Who will I meet? What roads will I walk? Where will I end up?
I do not know.
But I know that my heart still beats with the same joy it had that day on Kinnarodden and my eyes still look out in wonder at the next horizon ahead.