It’s cold now.
Running Los Padres tomorrow morning, Fish Bowls loop to Cedar Springs and back around. No mileage on my map, I’m guessing 12-15 miles.
Pack loaded, clothes laid out (I’ll be damned if I can decide on wearing socks or not), head into crisp darkness at 4am: craving the initial shock of stepping from the heated car to the trailhead.
I’ll hit the Flying J on the way home; weak coffee, “Shower number 1123 is ready” coming over the loudspeaker, feeling like I might be going a million miles away.
WHY LOG TRUCK DRIVERS RISE
EARLIER THAN STUDENTS OF ZEN
In the high seat, before dawn dark,
Polished hubs gleam
And the shiny diesel stack
Warms and flutters
Up the Tyler Road grade
To the logging in Poorman creek.
Thirty miles of dust.
There is no other life.
– Gary Snyder – Turtle Island 1974