1.03.18

Times are getting longer. I called the hospital in Phoenix somewhere out on the trail today. I check in as often as possible until her immune system is in a place where it's safe for me to visit. I'd rounded a corner and saw a granite spire in the middle of a field of yellow grass. Everything was getting the golden hour light. I climbed the little spire and sat on top with my pack drinking water with some powdered magnesium in it. I love the stuff. Phone rang a couple times and Randy answered and we talked for a moment. He handed me over to mom. It was a 'good day' because she was able to walk down the hall, get up for a shower, etc. Her voice has been weak since all of this but she was in good spirits. In the middle of the tough stuff something as simple as talking for a few minutes can be exhausting. They'd had a scare a few days after the marrow transplant where she'd been troubled by blood in her esophagus from the burning that occurs when you get heavy doses of chemo. Her body went into shock and they saved her with a cocktail of anti-histamines and more blood. Basically...right now, her system is spent from all this and the healing will be a long-term process full of good days and tough days. Today was a good day. Hopefully tomorrow is a little better. I've wondered how to talk about it. Some people I barely know have approached me with hugs and words of encouragement...and the whole 'let me know if there's anything I can do" thing. I can't count how many times I've heard it. Because basically...what else can you say? What can anyone actually do? And I go between polite 'thank yous' to feeling like 'Dude, get off me. I barely know you and you aren't part of this'. I'm aware how easy it is to offer support when it's not your mom and I can empathize with the situation people find themselves in trying to offer support vs myself craving anyone that has something real to say. It's just an automatic reaction and I am honestly grateful for anyone's words of encouragement.  Then again...most things people say I've already said to myself. I've gone through the gambit. Meditated. Sent healing energy in any capacity I know how to send. I'm glad the gofundme has collected so many donations from so many people. It's a small miracle. The best way I know how to deal with it is to be in nature. It was always our church as kids. It's where I always feel tuned in to something greater...some unfolding process. The trails get longer. The temperature is finally dropping, which is actually great for carrying a 30lb pack on my back. My legs are getting stronger each time. I blazed through 12 miles today without skipping a beat. Without the nerve in my back acting up. Without my floating rib compensating or acting up. Of course, this is barely over half of what I expect to come across on a daily basis on the PCT.  Honestly though...I've been an endurance athlete for a good part of my life. I haven't had a big issue with cardio or exhaustion.  I recover quickly. My legs are always moving one in front of the other. Thru-hikes and distance trips are often more matters of psychological endurance and that's just a fact of existence at extremes. Sierra snow I can handle. I'm well-equipped for both heat and cold. What tends to get me is a sense of isolation when I'm really out there. I mean, way out there. It's human...but knowing where the next food and water are going to be will ease any instinct to worry much. After all...I thrive on isolation too. I love getting away. Love being by myself and having a wide range of possibilities in front of me. How wide is too wide tho? I watched 7 years in Tibet the other week and always remember the part where he says something like "I've had a lot of time to think...too much" And I wonder what sort of hike I'll be hiking with myself. The great thing is that I'm good at talking to myself. If I'm alone in a car I'm usually talking to myself. I used to think it was an odd sort of tendency...something old men with dementia and questionable relationships with pigeons enjoy, but I tend to work through everything from music to physics and everything in between when I'm just idly chatting out loud to myself. There's the humbling aspect too of just going off on a tangent and then realizing..."Wait, I'm full of shit on that one aren't I?"
Latest music has been very hands off. Very minimal and conceptual. Ideas come in very basic shades like "I just want this saw to sound like it's about to erode from a broken chip / I want this drum to sound like it's coming out a boombox on a street with buildings on either side / I want this guitar to sound like someone's talking through it with each note." The broad strokes come in different forms. I've reached a point where, regardless of what I do...when I'm actually paying attention it's got a contiguous feel. Everyone's got that 'place' when they dig for it. It changes location over time. It lets you hone in only when you really want to. But once you're there they call it 'the zone' or whatever.
K, now I'm full of shit.