Last post I was up to my old tricks of denigrating intellectuals, theologians, and philosophers, while praising the cynical point of view, in the original sense of the word, meaning 'dog-like.'
So it is quite a contradiction to praise purpose in walking. But how can I resist praising purpose when walking in the desert southwest? In the north, hiking trails wind their way to mountain tops. The path seems random and pointless. Actually, what good is a mountain peak? It is just barren rock. You can't eat it.
If you walk in a rocky and jumbled desert landscape, without official trails, you feel lost initially. But then you forget about yourself and start to melt into the land. The natural highways are arroyos, dry washes. Your walk latches onto the arroyo. You soon become of a larger purpose: winding and flowing down to the great southwestern Father of Waters, the Colorado River.
Every autumn I look forward to these arroyos. The little dog and I probably don't walk on an official hiking trail the whole winter.
Near the invisible headwaters of the arroyo, you must struggle to choose your direction. When in doubt, follow the effluvium of sand and silt.
Arroyos aren't the only features that express purpose in their lives. Every western state has some minor tourist trap called 'balanced rock.' They are always fun. But today, while bumbling through an unnamed arroyo we encountered 'precariously balanced rock.' Its purpose in life is to defy gravity, apparently.
 |
Now if I were a nice guy, instead of an old grouch, I would list the GPS coordinates and travel information to 'precariously balanced rock,' so that RV or van nomad newbies can live the dream and pursue their adventures to the exact location, listed. Maybe I could even put such information in a database and then try to charge them so much per month to access their dream.
Comments