Journal Entries From My Book “Walking Home”

July 7

Today I fell in a river and smashed my face into a rock which resulted in a wet boot and a bloody nose. I couldn’t stop laughing.

August 19

I sit pressed against a stack of rocks. With the sun behind me, it is the only shade. There’s a slight breeze and only the things near me are moving – the tiny weeds and clusters of dead grass. Everything else is still, like a picture. The clouds don’t even move. They are permanently floating over Mt. Shasta. Dragonflies own the sky. I look at the trail and see it zig zag down to the valley where we came from. It’s been a climb I’ve been dreading all day, +6,600 ft. But, I didn’t know it was gonna be this. I didn’t know it was gonna be this beautiful. One of the most amazing and memorable views yet. It’s so glorious and huge. And mesmerizing. I watch a tiny white spec slowly move along the ridge trail. He will be here soon enough and the view of Castle Crags will be worth it all. Worth the pain, the heat, and the struggle. It looks like a castle, it does. Medieval and wondrous. And to think, before yesterday, I didn’t even know it existed. It’s spooky to realize just how small my world is. But it leaves access for surprise and utter fascination. I like my small world because it’s easy to blow my mind. It’s quiet up here on this ridge. No one knows I’m here and I kinda like it.

September 14

We walked through Mt. Jefferson Wilderness Area today. The beauty astounds me. A mountain with snow caps that had different dimensions in each direction. The gray rock, pure white snow, and bright sky came together into, what is now, a beautiful memory. The mountain was enormous, the biggest thing we’ve seen in Oregon so far. I write to recall the beauty and peace the mountain held. It’s purpose so clear. To stand and be. I wonder if it holds any secrets dear to it. I wonder what that mountain means to people, what kind of trust it holds. It seemed to be the keeper of something special. This may be all I ever know.

September 25

There are birds, and man do they sing. They are just happy here. There weren’t these song birds in California or Oregon. I noticed them our first day in Washington. We sit at a picnic table. It’s something we’ve missed while being out here – a seat. We are so grateful to actually sit up right. And when we do, it’s the best feeling in the world. I watch the shadows pass as the sun moves around the trees. I like the way life feels when I’m sitting at a picnic table. The miles pass fast now. We no longer feel overwhelmed when we look at how far we have to go. We now feel like our luck is running out, like we want it to be longer. We’re not quite ready to be done yet. Just give us another state to walk through.