April 8 2015
“Fly me to the moon”
We walked out of the clouds this morning. The mountains were floating like islands. Chewy and I walked up into the sunlight listening to Frank Sinatra. This is when I started thinking that I was “flying to the moon” and if anyone wanted to come along, all they needed to do was throw a rope and grab on, I’ll take them with me, away, up, forward, north…Then the weight of reality hit, the mountain towered in front of me. My thoughts of going to the moon extended into my dreams, and my body fell heavy back to the earth.
The weight is not the gravity of a backpack on a never-ending walk; it is a never-ending movement oscillating between moments of happiness and loss. This is not a trip; this is not a vacation; this is life. I am living out here.
We took another short day and cleaned up Sassafras Shelter. Roadrunner packed out three pounds of trash. Sam modeled his fashionable bug net.