I made it. For all the bridges burned and lessons learned, I made it, almost like I conquered time. There’s nothing now but what there is, and here I am. I have to say this feels like some relief. I don’t take out the garbage while I beat myself, I just take out the garbage.
You probably wonder if I ever do anything besides bitch and go hike. I couldn’t say. But when I saw this remnant of an old road out there in the sagebrush, I just took it, la-dee-dah. Turns out it doesn’t go very far, just over the rise a little bit and then drops down to meet another trail that’s gotten washed out like a little canyon. Things could be worse, you know.
John Hamilton Farr lives in Taos, New Mexico, U.S.A. As New York Times best-selling author James C. Moore tells it, John is “a man attuned to the world who sees it differently than you and I and writes about it with a language and a vision of life that is impossible to ignore.” See .png)