Thursday, March 3, 2011


Something began to change when we found the trail again. It took climbing the tree, falling into the tree, climbing out of falling into the tree and climbing some more before I realized I kinda needed to keep a bit more of the joy with me. I looked back on the day, the horse trail, the people and decided I should act better. I should not bitch and give up so much.

Camping was good. We spent the night at a curve in the creek.

'Cause I knew about what time the sun went down in Alabama and I could see it in the sky. And I was whooped. Whooped, I tell ya'. I was zipped up in my cylinder tent by 6pm. Me and the ticks. I don't know, maybe there was three or four or five or six but they were crawling on the interior wall and I was hunting them down and killing them. Call it the Mississippi girl in me.

I could hear the boys sitting in a circle, talking about the day, arguing, laughing. Yet another night I got to drift off to their song under the stars next to a creek. I was a lucky girl. We were lucky people.

I got up early before daylight of course to only the creek. Did the rituals. Smoked a cigarette, made a commitment to a new day and waited.

Soon the boys would be up, and they wanted to get home. TODAY.

To be continued.....



Slater said...

The cave where I bruised my right butt cheek was not mentioned. Major part of the hike there.

Shea Goff said...

I won't say that you should do a perspective piece about that.

I love you, Slater Goff.