Sometime around age 10, during a trip to our community’s ‘wave pool’, I got my first look at a ten meter diving platform. Other kids were marching up the soggy stairs and leaping gleefully into the water below, and I wanted to, too. It looked fun. So I got in line, climbed to the top and looked over the edge, and all of a sudden it didn’t seem like such a good idea any more. …
It’s a worthwhile habit, prior to any long trip, to start with an inventory of goods. And while I’ll need plenty of material items to pull off this hard turn Eastward, they don’t seem nearly as important to assess as the strengths and shortcomings I’ve accumulated. What good physical, mental, and emotional tools have I acquired, and where do I fall short, potentially screwing myself? …
“How much further?” the man asked as he crossed over from his front yard, pressing his hands into the back end of my 1970 Volkswagon Beetle. I leaned my shoulder deeper into the towel which padded it from the metal door frame, grateful for the help – I had already been pushing the disabled car down the two lane, small town road for a while. “About a mile and a half” I replied. The mans legs stiffened and stopped. He straightened up, and I could see his mind trying to process my unexpected answer. Then he turned to walk off,...…