From Mexico to Canada on the Continental Divide Trail

Well... It is finished. It feels anti climactic! Like... My whole consciousness is oriented around walking all day long every day, unless it is a glorious rest day, which means doing the absolute minimum of chores and maximum of laying down. There wasn't room for much else. In the end it is simple...I had to finish what I said I would do. I learned that the thing I was doing had no magic, really. All of that romance and sparkle existed only in my dreams about the thing.  This doesn't mean the thing has no value. It probably has more value than the thoughts about it. I know that binding myself to the task of it means something, though I don't yet know if it diminished me through depletion or gave me something worth having... Or neither of those. Perhaps I'm both tired and burdened by something unnecessary. But somehow I think that is unlikely. I only know I held on and stuck it out even as I lost what "it" is. Can the will burn up it's object? It seems so.

My good buddy Cory, who I did so much of this hike with this year, has returned home due to an injured hamstring muscle. On the upside, he's getting to spend quality time with his grandson, who we talked about often on the trail. There is something special in the grandparent relationship, and I haven't seen it so clearly until getting to know Cory. I'm happy that he's making lemonade with the lemons life have him just now...

Right now I'm sitting at a train station in Santa Fe, four hours into the journey of bus, train, plane and car getting me back to Colorado for the final push. Two young ladies walk by, their hair long, black and straight. One of them walks with a cane and I'm fascinated by this. It suggests that no matter what, her grace cannot be of an unconscious type. The cane represents an encounter with infirmity that means her straight back and graceful walk must be chosen, rather than inherited. To be young but also to have fallen and risen again seems a great wonder to me. What one could accomplish, too young, wise! Happily, they didn't notice me staring, the long bangs acting as blinders, lol... This 95 miles stretch in far northern New Mexico was more beautiful than I expected. I starting walking at the Ghost Ranch, somewhat sheepish as I filled my water bottles from their fountain, because earlier in the summer, some CDT hikers dishonestly reused meal tickets to feed their friend