It’s cooling down — at last — and my cold seems to be abating. After a week of illness, and several of turmoil before that, my spirits are creeping upwards again. I resumed pre-work strolling this morning — I could call it ‘exercise’ or ‘training’ but that would be insulting for those doing the real thing. I just love mornings, always have, and a walk along the waterfront just before dawn trickles over the horizon is as good a way to start a working day as I’ve yet found.
Autumn means it’s still pitch-dark when I hit the street. I like to do this coffee- and breakfast-less; those are saved for later, assuming I can suppress the urge to duck into the service station for a sugar-loaded iced coffee. The peace, the calm, the hand-picked tunes in my earphones, the lapping ocean, the pier silhouetted against the sunrise beyond Moreton. Those are the real rewards.
I have semi-reliable employment again, and I’ve been thinking I should suppress my longing to get back out onto two hooves and focus on getting my debts from nine months of liberty under control. I have a plan or two percolating but I have to teach myself restraint. I need to suffer a little more before I’ve earned another long-haul adventure.
Anyway, I reach the esplanade and swing right towards Shorncliffe. The familiar glow in the sky beyond the slumbering hulk of Moreton. The usual crew of walkers, runners and dog-slaves are abuzz on the walkway. The dawn chorus — dozens of ’em. Amazing how some women can chat so loud, so fast, so hard, so early in the morning. It’s 5:30am for gawd’s sake. My own conversations are internal. I’m thinking about a few things, I’m trying not to think. I’m imagining how good that first coffee will be when I get into the city.
I climb the hill, a last glance at shimmering Moreton Bay from the cliff, and turn inland towards the local sports oval. Dew on the grass. I enjoy my trail of footprints as I aim for home. The soothing pulse of Pinback on the iPhone, Album Leaf, some Cramps — it’s too early for the Cramps, but they sound bloody wonderful. Feet glide and songs shuffle. Nearly home. I can smell that coffee.
I have finally finished, bar some final tinkering, my gear list, for those interested in what worked for me, or otherwise, on the PCT last year. As that’s my most recent trek, it’ll do as the most up-to-date status report on my kit. I’ve also got my walking-reading list underway, but have a lot of work still to do there, and books turning up on my doorstep at irregular intervals. You’ll find those pages via the tabs at the top.
Anyways, time for some Deadwood. That gear list took about six hours to put together. I’m ready for some couch time…
~ And that’s all the Goat wrote
Post-script: I’m now working evening shifts, but still doing a daily three miles or so before work — though coffee en route is now an essential part of the routine.