I have just returned from a weekend in the east, from New
York City and Montreal, that is. It was a wild weekend with a bachelor party
for my brother, who is getting married next month. It was a surprise for him,
and one meticulously planned by his good friends who flew me out there.
New York City, as Jack Kerouac once described as, “the place
where paper America is born”, and indeed it is, quite opposite of home, here in
Durango, Colorado. I enjoy NYC, and it is perhaps my favorite city to visit. So
much to see and experience, every time I visit I feel like I’ve barely touched
the tip of the iceberg.
It was also my first trip to Canada, and I look forward to
returning there too, to the west of Canada though, where there are mountains
and rocks in British Columbia. Yes, Squamish is definitely in my top five
places to climb, and someday soon I hope to climb there.
One of my favorite parts of traveling is coming home,
especially when I’ve visited the flatlands. I’m reminded of how I truly feel at
home in the mountains, that this is where my people live. I notice the subtle
differences more: the beauty of the hills, rocks, trees and mountains; the way
people talk and what they talk about; the cars we drive; and the different beauty
of women.
This week I’ll venture out to Indian Creek, Utah, the
complete opposite of a city, a place where I feel truly at home. I’ll be
amongst friends in the incredible red rock desert. We’ll climb, eat, drink and
dance; and most of all appreciate the landscape and each other’s company.
This world is bigger than any of us can take in, in these
human bodies. I feel grateful to see what I can in the moments I’m given,
before it’s all taken away. I hope ya’ll do to.
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