Day 127 (November 1)
3 Highlights:
• Waking up to the sublime silence of a cowboy camp sunrise
• A rare moment of gratitude, deeply felt and humbling
• Reaching camp at sunset, awash in crimson light
Daily Summary:
• Distance hiked: 47 km
• Starting point: km 4717
• Ending point: km 4764
• Weather conditions: Sunny
Reflections:
The dawn came slowly, a soft, creeping light spreading across the barren, unforgiving desert landscape. I awoke with the cold seeping into my bones, a reminder that out here, in this wilderness, even warmth is earned. But as I sat up, gazing into the horizon, a deep calm settled within me. The solitude was immense, almost unbearable, yet I welcomed it as an old, stubborn friend.
Walking on this endless trail, one can’t help but feel the weight of existence pressing down. The sun was fierce, relentless, burning into my skin, an indifferent god watching me shuffle through his domain. It was then, somewhere in those long hours between one mirage of a water cache and the next, that a peculiar clarity struck me. I thought of my health, the unpredictable twists of fate that could have rendered me a mere shadow of myself. I recalled those childhood moments, the faint terror of epileptic fits, the quiet hours afterward, staring at the ceiling, wondering if life was merely a cruel trick played by an unseen hand.
Yet here I was, muscles aching, breath rasping, but whole. The sense of gratitude swelled unexpectedly, mingling with the dust in my mouth, bittersweet and heavy. It was absurd, almost laughable, how easily one could forget to appreciate the simple, brutal gift of being able to put one foot in front of the other.
As the sun dipped low, painting the sky with streaks of red and gold, I reached our chosen camp. I watched Semper Dry struggle behind me, his steps weighted with pain, and a gnawing guilt coiled inside me. I had left him behind in the heat, driven by my own stubborn will to move forward, to conquer. The desert does that—it shows you who you are in the starkest way possible. And who am I, if not a collection of contradictions? A man who cherishes his friends yet walks ahead. A soul who craves connection yet basks in solitude.
That evening, surrounded by the slow, dying glow of the sun, I thought of life’s cruel brevity, its 4,000 weeks, as one author put it. I realized, with a pang as sharp as the cold settling in, that most suffering is self-inflicted. Mine was no different, a series of choices and regrets strung together like the miles on this trail. But in that moment, the wind carrying the last whispers of light across the sand, I felt something like peace. I was here, alive, grateful, and walking, always walking. Good night.
