Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


How do you write a caption for something as sublimely beautiful as raindrops on fall foliage in the middle of nowhere? If I'd been cursing the frigid rain and my illness and the other things going on then I'd have missed this gift from nature. Be. Here. Now.

Just when I thought I'd become the last person on Earth I ran into Tex and Karen, two of the best souls on the trail. They regaled me with tales of their own hypothermic adventures and worries about what lay ahead. I even enjoyed answering one of Karen's riddles: What is it that the more you take, the more you leave behind?
We also laughed about a quote from "Cashflow Infinity." He asked: "How do you make God laugh?" Make a plan. Hahaha, good stuff.

Rainbowy mountain meadow. October, though dangerously cold and wet, is a great time to be here.

Swinging around the mountain counterclockwise, I encountered another view of the crag and its icy armor. This is the headwaters of Glacier Creek, where the occasional avalanche comes down to cheerfully wipe out anything in its way.

From the same viewpoint along the trail. As the mist and rain continues to chill the bones.


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