Friday

Seeking the Angelic Loaf

...These states coming up-- NJ and NY-- are all about urban sprawl and domesticity. This is of course a double-edged sword, so I shall wield it with due caution.

… This is certainly a first on this hike, and I don’t think I like it one bit; the contrast is quickly becoming too much for my thinning frame to handle. I’m talking about the fact that “trail towns” now consist of car audio stores and shopping malls filled with “Fashizzles,” and are populated by dudes who park their decaled and foreign cars at angles across four spaces and chicks who wear jerseys and gel their bangs. No good.

… [While staying at the famed Graymoor Spiritual Life Center] I would love to be able to say “Graymoor… Monastery,” but I guess even that taxanomic anti-climax is fitting. See, I’ve been anxiously awaiting this day for years (which is plenty of time to form grandiose expectations), and yet here I am walking away without even an AYCE* dinner, much less a frock or the stigmata. I did get to converse with Fr. Fred, but it bummed me out that he was in street clothes instead of a totally sweet brown habit. But he did say that this place was but a “twig” on the Franciscan tree, so I suppose I’ll have to journey towards the trunk for the real experience. (And the tuniced friar minor will open the door thinking that I’m in need of bread, but I will say, “Truly, I come seeking that angelic loaf which does not spoil,” and he’ll let me in, and I’ll get stigmata.)
So after spending two hours in the bookstore reading and drinking coffee (which was great), I’m out here camping on the ballfield. Today was pretty fascinating in that I got to cross the Hudson river and walk through a zoo—the animal and people kind. The trail weaves along-side the Hessian lake, which is apparently where all the very “New York” people go on sunny weekends to grill out and braid each other’s hair. Then, as if to legislate a rudimentary knowledge of “nature” and “the outdoors,” the park path and trail runs directly through an actual zoo.
It was neat, but I felt so guilty walking through there because I knew those caged animals could see and smell in me that wilds-borne freedom for which they so deeply longed. One mom was amazed as she watched a coyote track me along the length of the sidewalk, and when she pointed it out I looked and could see that burning desire in his eyes—the kind that cries, “take me with you.” But I couldn’t, because most hostels don’t allow coyotes.

*"all-you-can-eat"

… I’m daily experiencing as stark reality the inexorable march of time; every day is the same, and the unchanging background of trees serves to dimensionalize this fact. If I get bummed about walking so much—meaning, the fact that I’m out here instead of sitting somewhere with friends, being dry—all I have to do is remember that if I just keep walking eventually I’ll get somewhere and it’ll get dark and I’ll sleep, and then I’ll wake up one day and that many miles closer to sitting at home with friends, being dry.

Tuesday

Not Exactly Helping the Homeschool Cause

Spec'ing Out A Morality In Their Moleskins

I had the recent pleasure of a hearty exchange with the fearless pursuers of truth, in the name of Science and Reason, and all for the sake of the children at renown militant atheist Richard Dawkins's blog. The fun can be had here, with yours burly arriving at the top of page 5.

And heck, while you're at it you might as well go straight to the big leagues and check out Alvin Plantinga's review of Dawkins's recent book, The God Delusion, and also Doug Wilson's razing of the same (start at the bottom).

Oh yeah, and you really should read this online debate between Wilson and Christopher Hitchens, if only to appreciate the prettiness of the pdf (and the ickiness of Hitchens playing dumb). (HT: Phil Gons for the pdf'd version.)

Saturday

Mud and Bears

[From the journal of my 2003 Appalachian Trail hike, Went, Told It on the Mountain. More to follow.]

Past Mountain Shelter

Q: How many A.D.D kids does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: Hey, let's go ride bikes!

With two black eyes Nature's now told me twice. I woke up pissed cus I did it again-- I camped on dirt and it rained and the splatter [into my tarp] got all my stuff muddy. When am I gonna learn? But I guess since I'm here to foster a dependence on skills and knowledge instead of gear that these kinds of experiences are valuable. So I was in a not-so-capital mood to start my rainy 27 mi. day, but as it's happened a few times already I kind of instantaneously snapped out of it-- the wind blew and just carried it away.

But throughout the day I tended towards negative thoughts and more "A-->B" planning, like my actual hiking was just a necessary evil. I wouldn't say I've got the "Virginia Blues" [scroll down slightly], but I am ready to be out of here. The next two months will be cool if only for the fact that I'll be going through a new state every week. Maybe that'll break my mental/spiritual dry-spell that's come of late. It's nothing that's not normal for a thru-hiker-- especially one that's been in nothing but rain-- but still, I feel like I'm falling short in terms of my reason for being here. I don't know.

I saw two bears today at different times. One of 'em was real close to the trail, and when I got close-- about 20 feet-- he tried to run away but he kept slipping on the wet rocks and grunting. Scared, he stopped, turned, looked at me, and then finally managed to run off.

I laughed out loud.

Too Precious


With a baby this precious, I doubt you can blame me for not having been around these parts in a little while. But now that she's napping safely 'neath her Bach-playing mobile animals, I'd just like to thank you kindly for your patience and let you know that I'm back to stay, if you'll have me.