A Year After

 A year ago today I left Imp Shelter and Campsite and hiked off the Appalachian Trail (AT) for the last time.  While I have physically been off the trail for a year part of me is still on the trail.

After my diabetes diagnosis last spring I began walking again hoping diet and exercise would help (they have so far).  On those walks my mind inevitably wanders back to the AT and I begin second guessing all the decisions I made on the trail.  What if?  What if? What if?  It makes it hard for me to enjoy my walks.  

Sunset approaching along the AT.

  Maybe if I put it down in a post I can find a way to move forward.

• I should have started earlier.  Even a week earlier may have made a difference in the long run.  I would have reached Damascus, VA around the time for Trail Days.  I could have experienced this spectacle and it would have placed me, at least for a time, in the Damascus Bubble of hikers leaving the town en masse.  The extra people would have made the hike a more social and less lonely experience.
• I should have continued my food discipline north of Harper's Ferry, WV.  Food discipline while I'm on long hikes is an issue I first experienced on the Camino de Santiago.  In the southern part of the AT I did pretty good eating most of my packed food.  North of Harper's Ferry I began getting lazy.  I didn't eat all my food and I often was too lazy to boil water for my dehydrated meals in the evening.  Several stages I added an extra day while I was on the trail which often forced me to eat four days worth of food over five days.  Poor food discipline may have contributed to my body not recovering near the end.
• I was too fixated on staying in shelters.  I don't remember how many times I put up my tent but I think it was around fourteen times over my one hundred seventy-seven days on the AT.  I would often stop at a shelter early in the afternoon because the next shelter was too far to reach before dark.  What I should have done is stop at the shelter, eat some food, and take a nap before continuing down the trail, stopping a few hours later in a place where I could put up my tent.  I think this would have added two to five miles onto my day thus getting me that much farther down the trail.  This was especially true during the summer when the days were long and daylight was plentiful.

It's this last point that would have made the most difference I think.  Even If I averaged one mile extra per day I would have been over one hundred fifty miles ahead of where I was.  Having an extra couple of weeks might have made the difference.  The only downside is that the trail might have been even more lonely than it was.  *sigh* What if …?

For those who are wondering, I do not have the desire to go back and finish it.  When I made the decision last April it was final.  I just wish I could find a way to get Little Hill out of my head and move on.  Maybe this post will help Little Hill finally get some rest.

Autumn Equinox

We reach this autumnal equinox shrouded by the passing of the Notorious RBG and an election struggling under the weight of a manufactured crisis.

If only …

May we all survive the changing of the seasons during this unending, and exceedingly cruel, year.

Another Year Of 'Winning'

 I forgot to post about 9-11 last year.  I know I was distracted by the Appalachian Trail but I should have remembered.  Forgetfulness is often our downfall.

It has been nineteen years since the towers came down and Bin Laden's victory continues.  America has been in the grip of terror and even the hopeful Obama presidency wasn't able to break the downward spiral of our Democratic Experiment.  If anything the hopefulness only brought out the ugliness once hidden in the shadows.

We are less than a month and a half from the American elections and all I feel is a confused knot of hope and dread.  Which path will our country take?  Does it really matter?  I can't forget the fact that thirty to forty percent supports the President and his sycophants.  They will not go away after the elections ... no matter what the results are.

The towers fell nineteen years ago and the chain reaction that began goes on and on.  It didn't start the corruption of our Democracy but it did act as an accelerant for its downfall.  Now, since the beginning of the year, Covid-19 has claimed American lives equivalent to sixty-four 9-11s. Another 9-11s worth lose their lives every two and a half days.  When will it all end?

And The Results Are ...

Since the Wife started in-person teaching last week we decided that we should be periodically tested for COVID-19.  On Saturday I visited TestNebraska and, after completing a few easy questions I was asked if I wanted a test.

On Monday I visited the local (decrepit) mall and, entering the now defunct Sears auto garage, had a swab stuffed up my nostrils.  When they say your eyes may water and you may cough they aren't joking.  I guess your eyes water and you cough when they tickle your brain with a cotton swab.

Today I received the results from the Monday test (a three day turnaround) and they are:

"You have tested NEGATIVE for coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2), the virus that causes COVID-19." 

Good news I guess but it is only a snapshot in time.  Since the test I've been to Sam's Club and Walmart and the Wife has been to school four times - all possible infection events.

In a couple weeks I'll probably go do it all again.  Until then, Woo Hoo I'm Negative!

The Return Of An Annual Traveller

Monarch butterflies migrate through Eastern Nebraska.  They tend to move through our area in late August - Early September.  Over the years Monarch Butterfly populations have been declining.  The Wife, in an attempt to help the Monarchs, went on a milkweed quest earlier this summer and she planted some in our backyard.  Milkweed is special as Monarch Butterflies only lay their eggs on milkweed.  This week, as I was mowing, I noticed this:

Monarch Caterpillar on milkweed. 

I hope it finds a safe place to cocoon so we can have one more butterfly in the world.

A Week Later ... And An Almost Tragic Bunny Tale

It's been a week since Iago left us and it is strangely silent in our house.  I can't go into the kitchen without checking to see if he has water in his bowl even though the bowl has been gone for a week.  At 6 am and 5 pm I have to check myself since I no longer need to feed him.

Iago's paw print ... full of love.

I am sure he is still with us in spirit ... he is definitely here in hair.  The vacuum canister was half full with black dog hair when I cleaned this week.  It will diminish over the next couple weeks as the last vestiges of Iago are sucked out of the carpet.

Along with the mourning of Iago's passing there was some bunny drama this week.  If you follow me on Twitter you have already heard but for those who don't, here is the story.  We have rabbits in our backyard.  This year they started digging holes in the grass.  After chasing them away a few times I made a pile of stones on the deck that I could throw at them to get them to quit.  This week I saw a rabbit digging in a hole.  I went out on the deck and threw a stone and missed it by about a foot.  It didn't budge.  I grabbed a second stone and threw it.  I didn't think I was a good throw and I expected to hit it on its back but to my horror I hit the rabbit square on the head.  I could hear the stone thunking it's poor little bunny skull.  The rabbit staggered around a bit and laid down.  It's head slowly went back until it was staring straight up.  I think at this point it went unconscious.  A few minutes later it lowered it's head and just sat there.  After about fifteen minutes I went down the stairs and, seeing me, it hopped off into the bushes.  I felt very relieved.

I don't think I could ever hit a rabbit's head at 20 - 25 feet like I did.  Heck, when I toss the remote to the Wife less than ten feet away I usually miss by three feet.  But, if I see another rabbit digging ... I will try to be less accurate as my heart wouldn't be able to take it really.

Santiago 03/10/2007 - 07/25/2020

Last night we made the hard decision to put down our dear companion Santiago.  He had been suffering from all sorts of old dog ailments for the past three years and, while we tried our best to keep him healthy and comfortable, on Saturday he reached the point where we couldn't help him anymore.

The day we got Santiago.

We adopted Santiago - I called him Mr. Iago - from one of the Wife's friends.  We named him after both the Camino de Santiago and the Wife's favorite character from Ernest Hemingway's "Old Man and the Sea". He was five years old when we got him.  He's spent his first five years being a farm dog.  Unfortunately he had a taste for the neighbor's chickens so we took him in to keep him out of trouble.

Iago was such a laid back pupper.  Nothing bothered him.  He was unflappable.  The only thing that would set him off was when he saw a raptor circling overhead.  He would run around the yard barking at it until it flew away.  Other birds, big or small, would not even get a second glance from him.

He wasn't much into toys.  You could throw a ball and he would bring it back but after the third throw he would be done.  He did have a plush candy corn that he liked but he would only grab it when he had to go out to do his business.  We started calling it his "pee pee corn".

Iago was not a smart dog - in fact, he was as dumb as a box of rocks - but he was the sweetest dog I've ever had.  He loved licking hands, chewing ice cubes, eating hibiscus flowers, and hunting rabbits in the backyard.

Iago being a trooper with snuggle bear.

In 2017 he developed laryngeal paralysis.  This made it hard for him to breath.  If he got too excited he would weeze and almost passed out.  His heavy breathing became the background noise in our house.  Later the same year he developed issues in his rear end - a possible result of being hit by a car as a pup.  He was started on opioids and anti-inflammatory meds to control the pain.

Over 2019 and 2020 he slowly lost control of his rear legs.  He became incontinent and would spontaneously poop ... often in his sleep.  He could walk but his rear legs were becoming shaky.  He also began suffering from short seizures.

On Saturday he refused to go down the stairs.  The final straw was when he struggled to go up two stair treads.  We knew it was time.  We let him go so he wouldn't suffer anymore.

The Wife and I will miss him.  The house is already so quiet without his heavy breathing.  We are comforted that he lived so long - thirteen years and four months - and we could give him a good life in our home.  If someone ever asks me to describe him in a few words I will simply say he was a very good boy. 

March 10, 2007 - July 25, 2020

Santiago

aka Mr.Iago, Old Man, and many other names.

Another Year Around The Sun For Me

Yep ... I'm fifty-seven.  Another year has passed and for the first time in a while I am really feeling my age. The more I think about it the more I'm sure that I have yet to recover from my Appalachian Trail hike and the more I think about that the more I doubt I ever will.

I came back diabetic but I've managed to lower my numbers a bit but I am still on the divide between diabetic and pre-diabetic.  I probably could get my numbers lower but I have lost the fight in me.  This strange year we're working through is not helping any.

But that's OK.  The fact is my body isn't what it used to be and that's the natural progression of things.  So instead of worrying about it I started celebrating my birthday on Friday with a couple scoops of Cold Stone Creamery birthday cake ice cream with cookie dough mixins.  Tonight it will be Italian take out. I'll get back to trying to be healthy tomorrow ... or not.

Happy Birthday to me.

Another Year Around The Sun Together

Happy Anniversary to the best Social Distancing partner and world traveling buddy a man could ask for.  Every day I count my blessings that I am yours.

Happy twenty-third anniversary!!!

May our wonderful life together last longer than we can imagine.

A Piece Of Our World

This weekend across the country various Juneteenth celebrations are taking place.  I have to admit that, while I've known about Juneteenth for awhile, I have not known its true significance until this year.  Omaha has always had Juneteenth parades celebrating the liberation of the slaves.  This year, with the ongoing protests against injustice and bigotry, the day has taken on a new importance.

A memorial to James Scurlock killed during the protests.

Omaha has not been immune to the protests.  Early on a young Black man (James Scurlock) was killed by a white bar owner (allegedly prone to racism) during a protest in downtown Omaha.  It was first declared self-defense but it was soon handed over to a grand jury to determine if charges should be filed.  On one of my walks I took some pictures showing the signs of support from the community. 

More pictures of the protest signs can be found in my 2017-2020 Protest & Resistance Google Photos Album.