It was time to begin retracing his steps southward. Each footfall carried an air of determination as he followed the Discovery Trail along the rugged coast. He trekked, a solitary figure tracing his destiny upon the sands, the ceaseless waves his only companion.
His stride brought him to a point where further coastal advance was thwarted. The path cut inland to Ilwaco, a calculated shift in direction that brought him to a bus, a passage over the Astoria-Megler Bridge. This juncture was a dance between convenience and necessity, a pause for essentials and a brush with the mundane.
Resupply and device charging became temporal obligations, snatching fragments from his day. A missed connection to Portland spurred a decision. Warrenton’s embrace was chosen over the labyrinthine streets of the city. Here, in the fields along Young’s Bay he would find a momentary sanctuary, a reprieve from the open road.
His sights, however, were set on a distant rendezvous. PCT Trail Days, an oasis of camaraderie and shared stories, was his focal point. He’d missed the CDT Trail Days, robbed by a twist of fate, and he noticed that it lingered as a phantom regret.
There was a primal call that drove him onward, waterfalls cascading in hidden enclaves, mountains rising defiantly to challenge. He was a man at odds with complacency, resolute to wring every experience from the tapestry of life.
The laptop would wait, simmering ideas biding their time. For now, it was the rhythm of his own footfalls, the serenade of rustling leaves and babbling streams, that fueled his journey. A world unfolded before him, and the thirst for exploration surged. It wasn’t yet the hour to hang up his trail runners or pack. The road still sang its siren song, and he was a willing traveler, chasing its echoes through the vast expanse.
#wandering #traildays2023 #hikertrash