Small Park Joy

Once a year, I visit this park. It’s a small, small town park. It’s really a modest patch of forest with a small path running through it. The path winds to a high point that overlooks the canal.

This park is off the beaten track enough that there just aren’t many visitors. Though it offers two places to park, and a meadow off to the side to camp in.

This park isn’t much, but it’s enough. And I love it.

I’m sitting on a hard dry moss bed, leaning against a birch tree admiring the view and appreciating the silence.

Once settled, I start to notice more: Four birches across from me, a gull floating on the water, a trail of slime from a slug. That cool breeze riding up the face of the cliff. A raven call.

I get up and walk a bit. No purpose, but to look at this section of forest. It has Sitka spruce and Western hemlock - no surprise there. I find devil’s club, and see what devil’s club berries look like. It’s the first time I’ve seen them. The devil’s club has good medicine to it, and I admire this plant’s healthiness.

Down low in an Alaskan rain forest is where the treasures lie. I find mushrooms, the softest down feather in the world, a black raven feather, and my prize!

The Shingled Hedgehog Mushroom!

What a beauty! I’ve never found one of these before. I feel its pattern, cool and dry. I sense it’s healthiness… this mushroom is in it’s prime. To me, there’s nothing more fun then finding a mushroom in it’s prime. What a treasure!

I try a few angles with my camera and give up. I’m pleased and happy. It’s time to go home. It’s time to go back to work.

I like this place. I like this small park. I like visiting it once a year. Each visit let’s me see more. Each visit resets my soul for another year, when I can come back and enjoy this park.

Perfect Light

Photographically speaking, I’m attracted to a certain kind of light, yet I can’t say for certain what it is… but I know it when I see it.

I see it a lot here in Southeast Alaska.

I woke up to a steady rain and gloom. I love the rain drops against the window glass.

These flowers are a bright contrast to the gloom. This is the light I’m talking about. It’s perfect.

Later in the morning, I volunteered to go out in the rain and drive an inflatable boat to our next location.

I brought my underwater camera along in case I found some jellys. As luck would have it, I did!

The hardest part about photographing jellys is maneuvering the skiff close enough to them while they are near the surface.

Fickle things, currents and jellys…

This one was absolutely gorgrous.

By evening, the morning’s gloomy mood had passed. A blue mood showed.

And perhaps the light will change again in our favor. I’ll be ready.

Out Here

Out here the moon shines and sparkles the sea.

Out here a slender sliver of silver marks the passing of a whale.

Out here there are times when mirrors bend but do not break.

Out here the color blue is infinite.

Out here Orca slice the air, if only for awhile.

Out here a whale seems tiny, and mountains seem close.

Sixteen Signs Of Summer

I’m neck deep in a Michigan summer. My creative brain has been fixated on playing music of late, which is hard to show visually. I’m building things! I’m growing things! I’ve been foraging in the forest! I’ve been cooking my own food. And of course, catching photos - my specialty.

These are the images that struck my fancy this week.

1. Peas! My garden has been doing all right.

2. Surveillance. Cleo is always on patrol.

3. Resurrection. I revived a starter from May that was dormant in my fridge. Here’s the result.

4. Tiger Lily. I’ve been waiting for these to pop!

5. Girlfriend! She does love getting her ears scratched.

6. The Sign of the Moth.

7. Blueberries! Now in season!

8. My bed, now with summer blankets.

9. Summer Foliage.

10. The Natural Wall.

11. Driftwood Sculpture

12. Driftwood. New Shelf. Clown in mirror.

13. Eastern Black Trumpets!!

14. Prime Mushrooms.

15. Rhubarb. She’s gone into James Bond mode preferring to box “the damned purple string” two levels up on a narrow walkway, then the wide deck below.

16. End of the Work Day. My days often end sitting in the mighty majestic Traprock River. It’s spring fed and very refreshing. It’s my favorite way to end a long work day, beer in hand, river up to my neck. Not a care in the world. Ahhhhhhhhhh….

Making A List

I’m a list maker. I like a giant list to work from, and I REALLY like crossing off a completed item.

These lists are s great insight into how my mind works. “TRIM BEARD” didn’t get done (I struggle with self care) . However, “Build Cat Heaven in Basement” did.

These lists crack me up. What a great history of this place.

Things I want to do today:

I use need and want interchangably. In my mind, they are both the same. These are things I’m going to do… probably…

There are two distant blueberry bushes I want to look at for berries.

I want to install 15 paving stones in the back patio.

I want to continue sanding an old drift wood branch and possibly varnish it.

I want to finish installing the diesel heater for the studio.

I need to harvest peas.

I need to go to town for supplies (tonic water, weekend newspaper, grass seed).

I need to charge my bike lights for tomorrow’s ride.

I want to prep a canvas for a commission I have pending.

PICTURES OF THE WEEK

Wild Pea Flower

Contentment

Flowers My Aunt Brought Me

Forest Thimbleberry

Milkweed Plant

“Oh Heyyyyyy!!!”

Dog Vomit Slimemold

Milkweed Forest

Green Living

I’m home. Now it’s July. The once tan snow flattened field is thick with plants and flowers. The trees are full gas green and collecting energy from the sun.

As for me, I’m tending the grounds as best I can, but mostly just admiring the space. I like it here. It’s shady, cool and green. Just like John Denver used to sing about.

I’ll let my photos sing for me today. Maybe you’ll recognize the tune.

Hot Tub Delight.

Rose.

The shade garden is holding it’s own. I transplanted thimbleberry this year. The lily of the valley took from last year, and the Hosta rounds out the pack.

My wine cap garden produced 4 mushrooms this week!

The Yoga Palace.

The latest car in the fleet… ‘96 Cutlass Supreme.

The outdoor shower is almost finished.

Girlfriend doesn’t care what’s happening, so long as she can hang out.

Maple leaf on bracken.

Rhubarb turned five.

The back forest trail.

Droplets on maple leaf.

My goal is to write more. Share more photos. Enjoy summer. Tinker around on my projects. Eat more garlic. Weed the garden. Sit in the river every afternoon. Drink some wine. Hang out with my girlfriend. Build my brother a tiny home. See my family. Be modest. Make homemade gnocchi.

Possibly in that order. I’m off to a good start.

Yawn…..

The Second Day of Winter

These days I try to limit my exposure to winter. I’m really not sure why that is, I kind of like it. I think it stems from van life, where life is much easier when you don’t have to deal with snow.

But, today was a special treat: Winter Returned!

I awoke to a wintry breeze blowing through the bedroom window. I could feel its chill. There’s a certain feel and temperature to the air when it’s snowing. I knew it was snowing.

This year, I had two days of winter. The first was back in October down in New Mexico. The second, was today here on the homestead.

I took a leisurely morning. I sipped coffee with Carolans. I caught up on my journal, and ordered some art supplies.

All the while, I knew I was going out into it. I can’t resist going on a good wintry trek into the woods.

I also had some chores to do.

The most important chore was sweeping off my solar panels. It doesn’t take much snow to shut down your power supply.

Note the closest panel. This is my newest panel, and I was pleased to see it doesn’t ice up like my other panels.

It made me think that if I had to go through the winter, I’d want these panels for their snow melting ability. (Rich Solar Onyx)

Chores complete. Now it’s time for my walk.

Yellow Birch glow in fresh snow.

I love this kind of walk. It has no destination. No agenda. Just go see what’s happening out in the woods.

I tried to find some clean photos without the jumble of a forest. I think the shadow of the log is about as good as I could do.

The Yoga Palace always looks good in the snow.

Mission complete! Time to warm up and bake some bread.

Balancing The Equation

I haven’t been home since October.

That’s a long time, but I’m all right with that. I’m living a balance between travel and not travelling - a balance of my own design.

It’s good to be home. It’s good to balance the equation.

Winter is slowly ebbing away. Vibrant color is emerging from tan.

I like the snow this time of year. It’s crunchy in the early morning, and soft in the afternoon. It can hold your weight at 7 a.m, or leave you post-holing on a ramble through the woods in the sunshine.

I like the long days of sunshine.

In October, the short days play on my psyche. “It’s time to go. Winter is coming. Get out while you can.”

It’s foreboding, heavy on me.

But now, it’s different. The world feels warm, alive and welcoming. It’s light. Spring…

Culinary Math

I baked bread using a raisin water levain. My dough has never risen higher.

I made a pot roast, with intentions of beef stew.

Finally, I combined the two for a delicious supper. This is my kinda math.

It’s hot tub season. I pumped melting snow water to my tub and fired it up. There’s nothing better than melting away and designing your future.

Except maybe a good Gin and Thomic with your brother.

Being at home is just as fulfilling as the travel I do. It’s equally as important. For the next six months I will spend my days puttering on all matter of projects.

It’s creativity in action. It’s making something out of nothing. And it’s as important to me as breathing.

A Spring Nibble

I write about the pleasure of Spring every year. I’m seasonal. I’m in tune. I love spring and its colorful change of landscape. It’s so poignant. From tan gray and drab to Green! Redbud is in bloom. Redbud is a sure sign of Spring. It’s perfectly in contrast to green with its purple petals.

The birds are all fussing about, nesting and calling for love. A dove posted up on my van this morning, scouting out a suitable nest, perhaps. Or maybe even looking to displace me and move in. Who is to say?

The early spring blooms are out. These are flowers you only see in Spring. I went for a walk in the forest and spent time photographing my old friends.

Here are Dogwood, Phlox, And Virginia Spring Beauties

And of course there was an owl feather marking my path. It’s how I knew I was going the right way.

Right now, I’ve outpaced the spring season. Im back to early spring in southern Wisconsin and later this week regressing even further when I venture up into the woods of the great north.

Until then, stay reflective.

Cheers!

The Early Years

It turns out that my first blog is still available to peruse 12 years after I stopped writing it.

I thought I would offer it now for those of you who would like to do a deep dive into my earliest travel writing.

You can find it here:

https://rhombus.travellerspoint.com/

Back in them days, I was all about photography and writing - in that order. You may find it interesting, though the content is a bit dated.

Some of the pieces hold up, some don’t. I offer it here because this website is devoted to my creative flow. And those were some important years, formative, in my development of the artist I am today.

Cheers!

Rock Presence

The rock here has such presence. It commands your attention, in a way that only large masses of stone can do. I’m not sure if it’s the gravity of the stone, the energy of that much mass, or just its beauty, you can feel it. It might be all three.

There’s a spot on the Wildcat trail in Monument Valley where you are roughly in the center of three of the buttes. I was pulled in three directions at once. I didn’t know which direction to look at, but in every direction there was beauty. And that’ a very cool place to be.

The following images are of Northern Arizona and Southern Utah. Like many places of the American west, pictures can’t do it justice.

1 and 2: Canyon de Chelley

What I really like about this place is that it’s still being used much like it has for thousands of years. That’s an active farm down on the river bottom, near the old ruins of the cliff dwellers.

3. Last breakfast at the Grand Canyon. In true vanlife style, we’ll often drive some place scenic and make breakfast.

4. Vermillion Cliffs Loop. What a great cruise. Empty roads. Endless beauty.

5. Cloud Islands on Blue.

6. Lone Rock. Lake Powell.

7. Agate and Shell

8. The Human Perspective. It helps convey the size of the place.

9 to 13. Monument Valley.

14. Campsite Views

15. Camp Dog. This was a very cool dog who came by to say hello whole waiting for its pack to come home.

16. Glowing Gin and Thomic. Oranges are in season. The pair very well in this drink.

17 and 18. Morning Views

19. Recognize This Place?

20 to 23.. The view from atop The Moki Dugway.. If you ever want to climb a 10% winding and narrow gravel grade up the side of a plateau with your van, this is the place to do it. It’s only slightly terrifying, but the views are worth it.

24. Bonzai Cave

25 to 28. Owachomo Bridge. I wanted to see an arch or a bridge. So beautiful!

Thanks for coming by. I hope you enjoyed these scenes.

The Grand Canyon - Good Physics

“What’s the first color you think of when you think of the Grand Canyon?”

I bet most people would answer, “Red” given the geology of the region. That’s a good answer. And you are probably right.

When I arrived two days ago, I was struck by how blue the landscape is.

It comes down to the physics of distance: The further things are away from you, the more atmosphere you are looking through. The more atmosphere you look through, the more light gets distorted by atmospheric molecules, especially short wavelength colors like blue. This distortion causes those distant objects to take on the blue hue.

Look up: “Rayleigh Scattering” for the complete explanation of why this is.

And given the distance you can see from the south rim. It makes sense why I was seeing blue. This canyon can hold a lot of atmosphere.

Artists have been using this effect for years to make more realistic paintings and drawings.

Take a deeper look next time you are wandering through your local art museum and run across some landscape paintings.

The artists who understand light and physics will often offer you a more believable picture.

The Power of Wool Socks

The south rim of the grand canyon is about 7000 ft above sea level. It snows here frequently, though this year has been mild. The top of the trails near the rim tend to ice up from foot traffic and the contrast in temperatures between day and night. They are really slick.

Given that one slip at the wrong spot could send you skidding over a cliff, this is not something one should take lightly.

A long time ago, I learned that putting wool socks over your shoes will give you traction on ice. I put that in the memory bank, and forgot about it until this morning, while I was packing my kit for the hike.

I put in two pair of wool socks and a pair of scissors, thinking, “Hell, why not? We might need them.” And away we went.

Sure enough, The trail was a mix of compacted snow, ice, and hardened mud. We tried with just our boots (morons!) as we eased our way thirty feet into the slide before we hit our first bare earth patch. We were in it whether we wanted to be or not.

I called a halt, and said, “Let’s try the socks.”

We pulled them over our boots and I snipped off the excess with my sissors. I took a few baby steps in them on pure ice, and THEY WORKED!

I had traction. I had grip. I could dance like a billy goat if I wanted. Behold the power of wool socks! I felt like a super genius for once in my life.

We smugly sauntered down the slide for another quarter mile, passing other tourists clinging to the rock as they picked their way down.

Once passed the ice section, we stripped them off, and I put them in the side pocket for the return journey.

We got to talking with other folks taking off their ice spikes. One couple mentioned, that they “just spent 200 dollars on crampons just to do this hike.”

And there we were with old wool socks that probably cost less than 20 dollars for the pair.

Scenes from the Canyon

Rim Ravens

The ravens of the canyon country live wonderful lives. There is ample food and water to be found in the campground, which gives them so much time to soar with the wind and thermals of the canyon.

They look like they play all day long, soaring effortlessly wherever they want. They are often in chattery groups, cawing, clucking, grunting and cooing.

They really are living it up.

I like to think that people who suffered through crippling mobility issues in their lives come back as rim ravens. What a gift: to move with speed, grace, and playfullness over this magnificent landscape that is the Grand Canyon.

Desert Power

Here are twenty-one black jack photos of desert beauty, van life shenanigans, and keen observation from the Ministry of Midlife Mayhem.

May you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed living them.

1. My Accomplice Linda. I gave her a Mr.T valentine today. She’s worth it.

2 and 3. I’ve said it before, but nothing dries clothes faster or better than a windy warmish desert day.

4. Stone Face.

5. A fine hike about the Organ Mountains.

6. “What are you taking a photo of Thom?

7. Cactus!

8. First tree climbed of 2025.

9. Dust storm moving in.

10. Fixing Stuff. The water system had an air leak causing the pump to palpatate. I tightened all fittings to cure it.

11. Home made van bread. This one came out mighty fine. Overnight poolish.

12. Northern end of the Florida mountains.

13. I biked up this 17% grade… just about killed me.

14 and 15. Linda and Landscape.

16. Monkey Rock. Can you see it?

17. The view from Lovers Leap looking north.

18. Spanish lentils with chorizo and toast. Excellent.

19. Breakfast. Toast, Raw Honey, Tangerines.

20. Keep on Truckin. Linda’s first drive. I had her drive up and over a mountain pass to see how she handled it. She did great. Now I can have her drive while I go biking…

21. We aren’t stoners. But we are van lifers. It’s these small goofy moments in the morning that are hard to document, but are immensely hilarious. This picture works.

Home Again... Sort of..

Here I am, in the familiar territory of New Mexico, catching up on my journal. Its been too long since I’ve written a dispatch, and it’s about damn time.

I’m home again… sort of.

I would consider the van one of my homes, but it’s weird. It’s like being home, but the view out of your living room window keeps changing. And that’s van life.

I spent two days before we departed working on the van. Vans, like all homes, require maintainance. I installed my diesel heater under the passenger seat. It wasn’t hard, it did require a lot of time rolling around in the dust underneath the van. While I was down there, I upgraded the support system for my propane tank too.

The heater installation went very well, and now I can be even further off grid.

I also installed a new faucet, a tootbrush holder by the sink, and cleaned up my mess.

So, chores complete. Now it’s time to get on with the finer points of van life! We are taking on a three week journey of various haunts of the southwest.

First up, a fine hike up Dog Canyon.

Where’s Linda?

It was a great hike. We got sunburned, thirsty, dusty and happy. All hallmarks of a grand day out. It was about 80 degrees today, which was almost too hot for hiking. But, I thought of my friends getting pounded by snow, and smiled.

Signing off for now with a cold gin and tonic at sunset, journal in hand.

The Allure of Luque

We were hiking west on a ridge top gravel road amongst the ever present olive trees. It began to sprinkle, but we prefer clouds to bright sunshine anyhow - we are among the pale people.

To the south, the town of Luque hovered in the hills. It was visible in the haze - Luque being one of the white walled villages of the region.

I began to ponder the idea of going there instead of continuing this camino. Not seriously, but just “what if..” If you hike long enough, everything gets thought about.

We moseyed on, eventually making it to Baena. After eating, and getting clean, we sat down to figure out the next day. We started talking about what we’d seen, and “What was that village up in the hills to the south?”

Well… We went to find out.

After thirty six days of hiking, we were over it. We’d hiked four hundred ten miles across Spain on three different caminos. We made it to Santiago - That was our main goal. This was a lark. And larks? Well, they don’t have rules. When one is on a lark, you can pretty much do whatever you want.

Here are some photos of the last couple days.

Lunch Stretch.

This image will probably get me black listed one day. But, it was just a sign on a building and I couldn’t help but flex.

We went to a great bar in Alcaudete. We asked for “anything with eggs.” She came back with this massive plate of eggs and ham on fries. Hell Yeah!

The castle and cathedral of Alcaudette in the early morning.

Humanlike torso holding up leaves.

Toad, in death.

An olive tree.

So we came to Luque. And Luque is okay! Though we had grand ambitions of hiking or biking yesterday, we did absolutely nothing. Our bodies said, “No!”

Fine by me.

Headed to Cordoba from here. It’ll be nice to catch some city energy.

The Olive Groves - CDJ - To Alcaudete

How many olive trees does one need to see in a lifetime? I think I’ve had my share from just today, but I’m still not tired of them.

They are very picturesque. The lighting and clouds helped make many of these scenes pop.

It’s hard to show just how many olive trees there are here. The orchards strech from horizon to horizon.

Today’s great dog. The pup in the background was not happy at all about his coworkers friendliness to the pilgrims. “What are you doing??” It barked. “Those people are untrustworthy!!”

Today’s lunch: carrots, cucumber, hummus, tomatoes, cheese, crackers. Not bad.

We crossed a Roman bridge today. I find these old structires fascinating. They are still standing and in use thousands of years later.

See that distant mountain in the background? You can just make out the white band below it. That’s where we started today, some ten miles away at this point. Most of the towns and villages here are painted white. It makes them easy to see from afar.

The castle and church of Alcaudete.

Today’s sunset.

Spain has been good to us. Today was a very beautiful day. The sun and road beat us down this afternoon. We are very tired, but happy.

On Jàen, Toast and Hiking - CDJ - To Martos

You ever been to Jàen? “HY-en”

I have. From a quick look at the map on the train ride down here, it didn’t look that big, nor that interesting. But, never judge a city by a map. Jàen, is a very likeable place. It’s big. It’s got great street scenes. It’s the green olive oil capital of the world!

We had our morning coffee at this cafe which specializes in toast. In fact, you can get toast all day long here in many different varieties. We opted for our favorite of butter and marmalade

The coffee and toast was excellent!

I was thinking of how great this place is:

It was warm, busy, and small. Just one “J” bar running about twenty feet long.

Three men behind the bar ran the show - taking orders, serving up the coffee and toast. In the confined area, bumping and sassing each other is the norm.

They didn’t seem stressed out. Their bar was packed, and all they sell is coffee, beer, and toast. They make a living at it. How sweet it is.

The room is full of locals having their morning coffee. There’s three seats at the bar. That’s it. Most people stand at the counter, spend a few minutes socializing before getting on with their day.

There’s not many options to drink. You can have espresso with milk, without milk, or a beer.

There’s quite a few toast options to be had, but all of them involve real ingredients. There is nothing “free” here. The bread and beer has gluten. The butter and milk has dairy. Take it or leave it.

We took it, and breakfast cost about 5 euro.

I think what I love most about Spanish cafés is there is no bullshit to them.

This café could never fly back home. People would want gluten free, dairy free, and vegan options. They’d want a place to sit, and something to drink besides coffee, with or without milk or beer. This breakfast would cost $15 dollars, plus tip. There’s nothing wrong with any of that mind you, I’m happy you get what you want, but it would kill this place.

This is a stand up toast joint. And it’s perfect.

After toast, we got down to business. This business was starting the Camino de Jàen which arcs around the olive trees from Jàen to Cordoba. It’s a small piece of the Camino de Mozarabe. And fit our time frame perfectly. We slapped the cathedral to commemorate the start of our walk and got to it.

Do you like olive trees?

There are more olive trees in the Jàen region than there are visible stars in the sky. Every available inch of ground has an olive tree growing out of it.

It’s only day one, and I can’t contemplate the amount of olives that come through here.

On a side note, the olive oil here is exquisite. In my opinion, Spain produces the world’s best olive oil. There are reasons the Romans nurtured, and imported most of their olive oil from their Spanish holdings.

Do you like good dogs, horses and donkeys?

Me too.

We are on our way. It’s warm! It’s sunny! We stepped back in time to mid autumn. How sweet it is!

Santiago! Finished! - CDS Primitivo

We left the cafe at seven forty five this morning. It was cold! With daylight coming on strong, we set a fast pace to keep warm. We are also only twelve miles away from the finish line.

Talk about motivation… Let’s get it done!

And so we did.

There were more compelling scenes today than yesterday. It was a cool little section of trail, that I don’t think gets a lot of praise. It makes sense. Everyone just wants to get to Santiago.

Rock Face.

I like the color banding on this scene.

That’s a hot sign.

Dig the green grove.

We did it! We hit the church plaza and tried to show all of our teef!

This concludes the Camino de Santiago Primitivo and half of the Norte.

As with everything cool I’ve done, I felt happy, but more happy to go get pizza and beer. It’s just how I’m wired.

As for us, we are going to take a day off and reposition down to Jaen. We will then take on another week of hiking on the Camino de Mozerabe to finish before Christmas.

More to come, but thanks to those who came by to follow along. Cheers!

Second To Last - CDS Primitivo O Pedrouzo

It’s the second to last day of this trek. Things that used to matter, don’t matter anymore. I didn’t look at the route, nor it’s profile until seven miles into the trek. We simply caught the trail and got to work.

This section of trail is flat, wide, and not nearly as hilly as the last couple weeks. We walked faster than any other point of the trek so far. It was very noticeable, and quite pleasant.

We met a couple good cats today. This one joined us, and walked with for s block, which is pretty good for a cat.

Eucalyptus grove.

Fresh mushrooms.

We finished the hike by one this afternoon today. We tucked into a menu of the day and had a glass of wine.

There really isn’t much to say about today. Some days are like that, I guess. I shared a carrot with a donkey. That was about the highlight.

We are rolling on tomorrow. Twelve miles to Santiago.

The Ragged Edge - CDS Primitivo To Arzua

The mornings are cold, crisp, and frosty. The afternoons are warm, leaf scented, and earthy. We are on the ragged edge of early winter or late fall depending on the hour, the terrain, and the wind.

It’s a beautiful time to be hiking.

We left Lugo in a thick fog.

As the day brightened, the frost makes nice highlights on the veins.

I was hoping to find some ice on the creeks. I was even luckier to find some vibrant leaves encased in ice. The sun not high enough to reach into the deep ditch.

This omelette cheese sandwich was easily one of the best sandwiches on the trail.

The dog and I share the same coat.

Galacia has some great dogs! We’ve been making a lot of friends.

We were lucky enough to see a trio of shepard dogs in action. They moved two herds of cows from one pasture to another. This one took a break to come see us, and get some loving!

In the more rural areas, there aren’t any cafe’s open. We’ve been having to walk five miles before getting our morning cafe con leche. When we do get it, it tastes mighty fine. It’s warmth and comfort smothering any morning chill we might be carrying.

We’ve got two more days of hiking before we get to Santiago. It feels very strange to be this close to it. When we started a month ago, Santiago felt like a foreign concept. Something that was there, but not a reality. It was too far away to contemplate. But now, it’s there. It’s right there.

I’m neither happy, nor sad. I’m not that excited really. It’s the stoic Finn in me, I suppose. I just know that I really enjoyed this trek so far.