Cheryl was a great host at the Yoga Center in Steamboat. She even cooked a fine kitchari for us. Remember—rice, dahl, vegetables and Indian spices? The program included “Tales From Trails”, kirtan, and dancing. Attendees purchased books and beads. We were invited back for the future.
Now, the challenge was on. We arrived via vehicle at 11:15 p.m. at the spot where I left off earlier in the day. My distance for trekking was to be a real push through the night. It was dark. Strong flashes of thunder were ahead. Rain came, but little. The wind pushed the clouds very rapidly. The temperature was around 70 degrees Fahrenheit. No bugs were there to pester. Fatigue was evident. Near the end of the thirteen mile night-walk, I was staggering a bit, like a drunkard.
At the Motel 6, we slept—just a squeeze of four hours for me. Then a mere seven miles were left to complete. This time the sun was upon me, biting like fire on my neck.
But all was cool. I met two individual Samaritans who came to offer water. The second woman, an Hispanic lady, gave no explanation. “Here ya go,” was all she said as she presented a tumbler of ice-water. After she left, just a few yards into her journey, she shouted back, “You’re beautiful!”
“You are!” I replied.
I met a local fellow who had this new walking stick. I asked, “How far do you walk everyday?”
“About ten miles.”
“You’re a hero!”
Liberty Best came from the Vernal Express with questions. It was outside a bike store. The employees come out with cameras and handshakes.
“You’re the guy I’ve seen on the highway.”
Liberty took shots. She liked the fact that I’m seeing sacredness on the road.
May the Source be with you!