My mind is still reeling from the sudden changes but at least my body is at rest. My feet look a little puffed and I prefer it to the thin, pale and wrinkled toes I had yesterday. The scars on my hips are still with me but I know they’ll fade for today I am not hiking. I’m done and the last five months seem like a blur. Even entering Washington seems like a life time ago. The High Sierras, where I met my team mates Lucky Joe, Angelhair and Rigatoni, is just a dream now.
My dreams of failure stopped after Stehekin. After that I dreamt once of returning home triumphant but the other nights were too disturbed to dream at all. Last night I can’t even remember. I know I was in a bed and the cold and the rain and the wind were locked outside away from me.
Now I have to find my way home. I’m in the wrong country and the authorities don’t even know yet.
Rigatoni has just told me about the CFT which sounds like a good idea. The Couch to Fridge Tour