I can let my imagination get the best of me.
Maybe I’m a fool for dreaming about seeing the West as those Mountain Men did so long ago. Maybe I’m a fool for wanting to range across canyons and mountains without a soul around for the sake of a wild ecstasy amid God’s most brilliant artistry.
The problems are…
One, I’m probably not brave enough to see the West as Mountain Men did 200 years ago.
Two, I know that there’d be moments of great loneliness. After all, Chris McCandless said, “Happiness only real when shared.”
Three, I know that I’d often ask myself, “Why do this thing? What are you hoping to accomplish, Charlie?”
I don’t know what I’d be accomplishing. Sure, I’d get some photos. Sure, there’d be ecstasy. Sure, I’d be able to say I’ve been to X, Y and Z, and I truly would like to see X, Y and Z.
But would not such a venture be mere escapism? Would it not be just killing time?
After all, the West is known. It’s mapped and photographed. It’s crisscrossed with trails, paths, streets, roads and highways. I’d add no original thing to man’s body of knowledge for embarking into the total unknown.
Nonetheless, it would be something to be away from schedules and civilization by letting go of the fear of…
Of what? Let go of what? It seems I can let go of anything right now. I can change my attitude on anything right now.
Maybe I don’t need the West for the change to my being I truly seek. Maybe all I seek is just a little more faith.
Maybe… and if my words are confusing, well, can’t you see I’m confused too?
Still, I do love the West. And wanderlust is building. The higher the sun, the brighter the sky, the warmer the air, the more it burns.
And I like the burn. It makes me know I am alive, and I am glad to be alive.