It Is What You Make It

Only a few miles to go.

Only a few miles to go.

I keep reciting the simple sentence in an attempt to bring comfort, to ease the pain, from biting off way too much of a trail run than what I am able to chew.

Good Friends

Flipping the light switch on, the lone bulb comes to life as I quietly gaze at the collection. Neatly paired together, they rest on the rack while others are haphazardly strewn across on the floor. The pairs remain motionless while I study the cluster below.  I am determined. I am focused.  My eyes move from one, to another, to another.

Finally, I find one and gently pick it up while continuing to search for its mate. "Aha! There you are!" I state while scooping up another and cradle the duo in my arms.  Giddy with my find, I leave the room and venture outside into the early morning darkness,

Moustache Unplugged #20

hehehe...undetected, I'll seize the moment to work on my letter...

Dear Health Insurance Man,

I am totally amazed that your dorky, pencil-necked dweeby self, seated comfortably behind a desk in a far away place, knows more than my surgeon in regard to what is good for me!

Like Father, Like Son

"He's young," stated Gary while pointing to Shasta, one llama out of six that were going to be strung together, nose to butt, to pack gear out. "He had a few training walks at home along the river and his first real trip was coming up here...he did pretty well," Gary added.

The 2014 Leadville 100 (LT100) trail race was over and the Hope Pass aid station had been broken down, packaged tight and compartmentalized into panniers to be hung on the llama pack trains.

Good Medicine

"Are you here as a volunteer or passing through," asked Deb to a woman entering camp burdened with a backpack and popping earbuds out of her ears.

"I'm passing through," the lady replied. "I'm hiking the Colorado Trail and working my way to Durango," she added while unslinging her pack and reaching down to pet her small red heeler who was overwhelmed by 8 dogs swarming the new arrivals.

Moustache Unplugged #19

hehehe...undetected, I seize the moment to work on my letter....

Dearest Nyx,

With devastating sadness, I learned about your tortuous death.  Simply thinking about your final hours of suffering here on Earth brings me to a level of utter disbelief. Oh, how you must have innocently questioned what was happening to you as the scorching heat became more and more oppressive. As temperatures soared, your body methodically shut down as you patiently waited for your savior. 

He never came.