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?


Playing with rocks while exploring near camp in the Obsidian Falls corner of the Three Sisters Wilderness a few days ago.

Beard folly and South Sister towering in the windy cloudy air.

Loop de loop tree groth. Such personality.

One great thing about there being so little daylight in these wintery times is that after it gets dark I still have several hours to kick around before I have to go to sleep. When the nights were still clear I was making a fire each night and sitting near it reading or journaling. Totally allowed me to forget about the -get there now- mentality of many thru-hikers and return to the real core of what's fun about camping: Hours of warmth and light and time to reflect among the wilds.

Doesn't matter how old the sign is, there's a redneck with some bullets for it.


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