City: San Francisco
Country: United States
Begins: Mar 1, 2018
Date: Fri, Feb 9th, 2018
Entry Visits: 1,017
Journal Visits: 1,017
Hiking connects me with nature (reality). It makes me happy. It's Home.
I suspect the trail might help me find a physical routine, a stability and equilibrium, and strength that I cannot get or develop in my current City life. I hope, in fact, that this may save my life. Maybe it already has; I have mortally serious health issues and I have been dreaming and planning and scheming to get out there since the 2008 season.
But that's just the surface stuff. Here's what it really is about, deep down:
Okay. So, Listen to the bass guitar on the following track. Like, really listen. And don't let go of my that bassline, even when the going gets weird. If you let it seep in, if you can let go enough to trust the music, as wild and dangerous as it might feel, you'll Understand.
This may feel like Willy Wonka's boat ride. Buckle Up, Kidz!
Words by Robert Hunter
Saint Stephen with a rose
In and out of the garden he goes
Country garland in the wind and the rain
Wherever he goes the people all complain
Stephen prosper in his time
Well he may and he may decline
Did it matter? does it now?
Stephen would answer if he only knew how
Wishing well with a golden bell
Bucket hanging clear to hell
Hell halfway twixt now and then
Stephen fill it up and lower down
And lower down again
Lady finger dipped in moonlight
Writing `what for?' across the morning sky
Sunlight splatters dawn with answers
Darkness shrugs and bids the day goodbye
Speeding arrow, sharp and narrow,
What a lot of fleeting matters you have spurned
Several seasons with their treasons
Wrap the babe in scarlet covers call it your own
Did he doubt or did he try?
Answers aplenty in the bye and bye
Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills
One man gathers what another man spills
Saint Stephen will remain
All he's lost he shall regain
Seashore washed by the suds and the foam
Been here so long he's got to calling it home
Fortune comes a crawlin, Calliope woman
Spinning that curious sense of your own
Can you answer? Yes I can,
but what would be the answer to the answer man?
High green chilly winds and windy vines in loops around the
twining shafts of lavender, they're crawling to the sun
Underfoot the ground is patched with climbing arms of ivy
wrapped around the manzanita, stark and shiny in the breeze
Wonder who will water all the children of the garden when they
sigh about the barren lack of rain and droop so hungry 'neath the
WIlliam Tell has stretched his bow till it won't stretch no
furthermore and/or it may require a change that hasn't come before
The Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) is a 2,650-mile national scenic trail that runs from Mexico to Canada through California, Oregon and Washington. The PCT traverses 24 national forests, 37 wilderness areas and 7 national parks. The PCT passes through 6 out of 7 of North Americas ecozones. Learn more: www.pcta.org
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