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?


My last day in Yosemite I took the path less traveled and at the suggestion of some friends, went off to find the secret way onto the unmaintained trail to Sierra Point, shown here. Heavy snow and rain were predicted so I crossed my fingers and brought a weatherproof jacket, but luckily didn't need it at all. The climb was steep and vigorous, but felt short once I arrived at the point with a brisk wind to cool me off and a view way down upon the main trail to Vernal and Nevada Falls with its tiny people scurrying along.

Coming down out of the sierra I met with the weather I'd anticipated, a violent rain that slowed progress and saturated the landscape. It seemed certain that all of the footprints we'd left in the grove the day before were buried under new snow by the storm. Still, California is California and the weather closer to the coast gave way to partly cloudy with a rainbow or two. My hosts in San Francisco were J and R, one of whom took this shot of me with their dog Braxlee after the excitement of the day had caught up with me while digesting roast leg of lamb, a couple of beers, and a few glasses of wine.

The second night in SF I had the good fortune of reuniting with my friend A here, who shared Zaruma, Ecuador as a Peace Corps site. She'd moved to the Mission area of the city 6 months before and working to help combat tuberculosis in the state. She and my hosts had sangria and tapas at a place called Cha Cha Cha in the Mission. Good times.

The City by the Bay, as seen from Dolores Park, near the center of the city where I stayed.

Looking to the southwest, Twin Peaks in the distance, and my friends' apartment on the hillside to the right with a gorgeous view out over the southeastern part of the city.


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