And so the boy…
Glimpsed such future fate, the horizon fall fast, the mercury plummet. His pace did quicken as thought turned to task,
must walk!
must seal and repair!
must, a warming layer find at paltry a cost!
must sew!
must walk!…
Must walk!!
And so the boy…
Each night did mend, to stitch the tear, a cover his face would surely need. He cut and sewed of past fleece restore, to form and shield his hope renew!
Each night the simmer assured such faith, the glow of warmth and belly fill, cocooned a comfort could nary last, for drop it would…
The mercury fall fast!
And so the boy…
Walked, a hurried pace…“they say a foot surely fall”…to burden and drain, each step a labor to trudge and challenge. The wind whip, a fury, a might, no track lay before, the boy should fight, in darkness stumble…
The mercury fall fast!
And so the boy…
And so the boy…
Would surely reach!
January 5, 2025 from Sedalia, Missouri:
The freezing rain pelted my tent through the night, the very same I hiked through that evening to arrive strategically just short of Sedalia, not realizing most of the town would be closed due to weather. Fortunately, a McDonald’s near the trail remained open! I really just wanted a place to sit and write, charge a bit more, and let some of this storm pass on by, my next town another 33 miles away, trail conditions worsening by the hour, potentially hampering my usual pace. That freezing rain left a 1/16 inch shield over my tent, a hassle to remove, but also adding to the warmth within.
I’m dealing with some frustrating and ill timed gear failures, my air pad rupturing internally a couple nights ago and two more zippers calling it quits. The air pad continues to hold air, but swells up around my head end, robbing air volume and pressure from the remaining pad. If I add more air to compensate, the rupture worsens with an alarming “bang” sound! I slept comfortably and warm last night and remain optimistic I can limp this pad along a bit longer, my foam pad underneath providing some unpoppable insulation, my many layers affording more yet. I’ve ordered more zippers, but now must wait, the two recent failures not yet critical as both tracks feature two slider sets for dual direction opening and closing. For now, the elements will continue to stay where they belong…mostly outside!
I’m keeping my fuel bottle topped off, my stove running on gasoline for easy resupply. This little beauty gives off substantial heat and safely burns in the vestibule area of my full four seasons tent (full inner and outer tents, rather than a rainfly!). I use my footprint as a tarp these days, leaving the ground exposed within this vestibule space, perfect for running this stove to cook and add some drying warmth before shutting it down and zipping up tight for the night.
My camera gave me a scare this morning upon pulling it out for a photograph in my mobile office, the golden arches.
When I shot a still, I noticed it struggling to focus followed by a cloudy shot. Cleaning the outer lens revealed the internal fogging. A little time to warm up and all is well…deep breath!
January 10, 2025 from Jefferson City, MO:
Missouri, what the fuck! If this were early childhood schooling, you’d be in timeout!! Did someone tell you I was coming? Was it Kansas??
I’m running out of emojis that, at this point, don’t feel cliché. I woke to another bout of snowfall, having already exceeded the forecasted accumulation. It’s still coming down while I sit in BK, sipping and writing, pondering and planning. My feet are soaked through and my tent feels like the beginning of a Dateline Special, right after the part where they show pictures of me at the age of four with my mom and a birthday cake, you know the line:
“he was just a normal boy; he liked normal things…but then, something changed” (you know the voice!).
The package I’m waiting for got “excepted,” you know, “due to weather.” I don’t know what they’re talking about, it’s really nice here! They say Monday…but l’m here now, on Friday, when my tent zippers were supposed to be waiting for me.
Now I’m waiting for them, it seems, until Monday. I thought about having the package forwarded to St. Louis, as I had grown accustomed to hiking previously “present” conditions, my pace really only slowed by the single digit temperatures forcing me to walk daylight hours only. Those temps are set to stay much warmer for a good bit now. But the snow now piles deeper and wetter, my window for leaving Missouri extending once more as uncertainty looms, my course far from sure. I’m reminded of some writing I did while looking out the train window last march, gazing the same weather I gaze now, the train that saw me to Delaware:
“As I gaze out the windows of my eastbound train I can see my ghost, the tracks yet laid. I can see my tent pitched some distance off. I can see myself warming some cocoa on my little camp stove, gazing back at myself riding aboard that eastbound train. I smile and shrug, that knowing sorta grin—”I got you”—I keep walking-riding on, that knowing sorta sort.”
I think I’m gonna check out the library. I have work I can do, reading I can do. Camping will be easy enough here, a nice “troll under the bridge” sort of spot just across the river, the Missouri that is.
A few more from the gallery:
