Eyes, I's

Reliably, as I emerge above tree level, my heart lifts. Some kind of magic. First, is the sheer pleasure of the machine working well. I get stride, breath, and heartbeat into a sustainable rhythm, where I can just let it roll. I feel the heat rising from my body, everything shifting into coordination. I know I am a spiritual being having a physical experience, but man, I am going to be bummed when I have to let this vessel go. I would make some design tweaks for esthetics, but as far as functionality goes, I couldn't do better. It’s like a little diesel VW that will run for 300K miles. Well that’s what we’re doing, right? Seeing how much mileage I can get. Then, stepping out into all that space where you can see in all directions, the air is different, the sounds are different, the light is different. I could stay up there forever in all that freedom and lightness. This is why I'm here.

While hiking, I keep one eye on the next step, one on the path ahead, one on the path behind in case I have to reverse course, one eye on the weather, one on the body (hydration, temperature, fuel, stamina), one on miles covered one on miles to go, one eye out for good photos, one out for animals or plants of interest. That’s way too many eyes. Make them “I’s” and were good. It takes an entire committee to keep this caravan moving.

I like to consider myself reasonably good company, but here, on my 11th night of solitude, I have to admit, I am finding me wearing thin. My jokes aren’t that funny, my thoughts are too familiar. Fortunately, reinforcements are coming in that Mirabel and Omar are going to meet up with me for a weekend in a few days. It will be wonderful to hear what someone else is thinking!

It is mid June, and the campers are on the road in force. Along all the main routes, there is a camper in every pull out, and rows of them line the official camp grounds. I see people picnicking, taking little walks to see the churches in the quaint towns, sitting in their vehicles. But the minute I get off the main road, there is no one. Summer houses are still all shut up tight, parking lots are empty, and the trails entirely mine. It’s very odd. Yesterday, I drove up this famous road:

And found all the tourists at the top where there is a whole viewing ramp so people can take pictures of themselves by the road. Bus loads of them.

I am no longer surprised by the absence of wild life in Europe — I learned a long time ago that it’s just been civilized far too long. But I did run into a herd of wild reindeer the other day. Four stout youngsters were standing sentinel giving me the stink eye.

Other than that, it’s only sheep and lambs. Did you know that a newly shorn sheep looks exactly like a goat? I couldn't figure out why all these goats had sheep babies. Duh.

Also the spring wildflowers of Norway

These help when I am missing my prairie back home.