And yes, our travels (and by our I mean we as in we) have brought us into a grassy valley, smelling of magic and wet rhododendrons, in the foothills of Virginia Appalachia, and in this valley, there is a camp, a farm, and 24 thru-hikers.
I marched them in after 10 days of solid rain, whacking bush, amidst naysayers and doubting Thomases, only to be self-corroborated in what I knew would bring peace, joy, and love to their hearts and mine, and to the valley itself...
Enough of all that.
We worked together. We grew together. We love each other. And with a quick jaunt home to taste (yet not swallow) it's seductions, it is back to trail life for this Bootsy Bootlegger.
I don't need a guide book. I don't need a watch. I need: sun. water. food. legs. a heart. a sense of God.
And thus, I will walk to Maine.
In, out of, and with love,
Boots
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