Day 19, August 6: Big Trees

Day 19, August 6: Big Trees

Leaving Yosemite is no quick trip. From Tuolumne Campground where I stayed to the south entrance of the park is 110 miles. That includes a detour up to Glacier Point to see Nevada and Vernall Falls and a good view of Half Dome.

I immediately felt release leaving the campsite. Sharing time with others for four days had taken a toll on me. I couldn’t wait to be free of the need to socialize. I left by 7 a.m., so traffic was light for quite a while. I passed herds of deer grazing in the meadows along the road, but still no bears. Dammit.

When I reached Glacier Point, I walked out to the point with all the other tourists. I’ve been completely ruined by all this hiking – I yearn to see everything from a closer viewpoint; I realize I’ll never be satisfied by the easy look again. There is a trail that runs from Glacier Point to the lodge, passing by the falls. I could ride the shuttle up and hike the 8.5 miles back down, and I hope to do that someday. I thought might even go back in a few days when I’m finished here, but I know now that’s going to happen.

I owe a great big thank you to my hiking buddy Rick from the group hike. He insisted I come down to Sequoia National Park and Kings Canyon National Park. They butt up to one another, so you can’t really visit one without the other. At least I can’t. He also insisted I go all the way back to Cedar Grove at the very back of Kings Canyon. What great advice that was.

The drive from Yosemite to Kings Canyon and Sequoia took me through some disparate landscape. From the lush green of Yosemite, the land quickly began to yellow. The lack of rain was obvious, and the landscape reminded me more of Oklahoma in August than what I imagine for California. Then, suddenly, I began seeing vineyards. It was such a strange sight to see the dead grass surrounding lush green fields of grapes. I stopped at a fresh fruit stand and bought a few plums, and then bought lunch at a lunch wagon of Mexican food parked in a convenience store parking lot. And before long, I began seeing the mountains and big trees I was heading for.

When I pulled into the park, I went to the information desk and asked about camping and hikes. This is a small enough park that there are openings for prime camping spots, and I found one. The campground I chose is the last one in a string of four, nearest the trailhead, which is the end of the road in the park. The ranger I talked to is an avid hiker herself, so she pulled out some topographical maps and pointed out some good hikes. I’m taking the first one tomorrow; it will be about eight miles long in some of the most beautiful land I’ve seen.

I know, I know, I’ve said that before. But driving the 30 plus miles out to the campsite, I pulled over probably 10 times to take pictures and to just take in the beauty of this place. Layer after layer of mountains reach out as far as you can see, and the trees range from small and dry looking to the huge red-colored pines and firs that give this place its name. The granite walls reaching up and the stony Kings River that border the road really tempted my eyes away from the task of driving. And on the long, winding road, I saw very few cars. It’s one of the least populated of the parks I’ve visited.

Grant and I, chillin'

Some other huge tree - not huge enough for a name

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before heading out to find a campsite, I visited the second oldest tree in the world, The Grant. I don’t think it’s the General Grant, even though that seems to sound better. I’ll double check that later. The tree is just magnificent as you can imagine. Unlike the Redwood forest I visited last summer, the big trees are fenced, so you can’t stand up against them. But they too issue a quiet reverence when walking among them.

I was corrected by Rick when I called these trees redwoods. These are not redwoods, they are sequoias, and although they are the same family, they are not the same tree. I will have a better look tomorrow, because part of the trail I’m taking goes through one of the groves.

I can’t wait to hike under those trees. I’m finding the energy I find among these giants, just like in the redwoods, instills a peace in me I can’t explain. This is the most relaxed I’ve felt for a while, and I don’t think the trees are the only reason. I was starting to feel anxious, trying to figure out where to go and when to go and where to camp and all those things. I can feel the movement towards the end of the trip, and figuring out the route home is a challenge. But about halfway here, everything just seemed to begin to feel right. And when I arrived, I knew the next few days would be here, and I would enjoy this part of the trip immensely. When it’s time to head out, I’ll know that too.

Learning to trust that the right thing will become clear is an important lesson. I know Byron Katie says, “We don’t make decisions; decisions are made.” I embrace that idea in theory, but in practice it’s not as easy. So instead of agonizing over what I’m going to do next, I’ve allowed things to unfold. I know now I won’t be going back to Yosemite – I’ll have to save that hike for another visit. I also won’t be going back to Snohomish (sorry Sally – it’s too far). And I won’t be going across southern Utah, as much as I love that area, it is August and a cooler time will be next May.

Instead I’ll head east, just south of these parks, toward Las Vegas. I will get some desert experience as I drive through Death Valley, but I won’t linger there.  I’ve heard Pahrump, Nevada, is worth a visit, so I’ll swing through there, then head north, choosing scenic routes whenever possible. I see that my journey may head through Great Basin National Park, so I’ll probably check that out. Then I want to see the great Salt Lake and the Wasatch mountains. After hiking in those places for a day or so, it should be time to head back across I-80. If I have time, I’ll swing up through the Grand Tetons, but we’ll have to see.

This route just kind of decided itself as I looked at the map tonight. I have looked at it a number of times before and it seemed a total mystery of how to get home. Now it seems clear. That is, of course, unless it changes. What a lovely way to travel. And maybe, implementing this fluidity into my everyday life as I hope to will be just as satisfying, joyful, surprising, and enriching.

Day 18, August 5: Coming out of the Backcountry

Day 18, August 5: Coming out of the Backcountry

Well I’m finally caught up on the blog. Now to write about today.

Sisters, Jo and Suzanne, and I

We began the day by drying out our soggy campsite and packing up to head back. Everything was wet, and there were a few people who had more problems than others, but most of us were okay. But for a group that never seemed to get going on time, the rain had not helped. But what a glorious morning. I much preferred a sunny day to hike back in than a rainy one.

I emptied out my water-logged tent and packed up after a quick breakfast. I was ready to head back – I like people, but I’m becoming more and more of a recluse in my old age, and I needed to get back to some solitude.

But we had six more miles of group interaction. We hiked this one faster, with very few breaks. The pace was fairly fast, and much of the trail was uphill, especially the first two miles. I had some extreme pain near the end, right in the area you get a hernia, and I was a little worried. Suzanne suggested I unhook my waist belt for a few minutes as it might be gas. It didn’t feel like gas, but once that belt was off, the pain disappeared. I was very relieved it wasn’t a hernia, to say the least.

We got back around 1:30, which was very early for the end of the hike, and I was very happy to be back to the car. Rick suggested we meet for a burger, and Kim invited me to shower at the lodge where she’d secured a room for the night. I did both. It was fabulous.

Some of the trail was marked only with cairns

It is pretty funny how one becomes so accustomed to minimal services. I ordered my food from the little café outside the campground, and when it was ready, carried it out to a picnic table. I joined a couple there, and asked if there was a water spigot close by to wash my hands. They looked at me kind of funny and said, “there’s a restroom right there.” I was so excited! Water AND soap! I washed my hands twice before going back to eat my burger.

I sat there with Rick and we visited with the people who joined us. First a couple from the area and then a family from Florida. All nice people and all interesting. We heard about the couple’s daughter who leads wilderness adventures for women, and we heard about the family’s trip to San Francisco and their hiking a short trail in Yosemite. It was such an enjoyable meal.

I said good-bye to Rick after exchanging information and left to meet up with Kim at the lodge, where took a long, hot shower. It was absolutely fabulous. Being dirty is something I can’t seem to embrace. Clean skin and hair is taken for granted by most of us I think, and it will be a while before I take it for granted again.

Kim and I visited after our showers for a while; we sat on the step of the cabin she’d rented  and she drank a Corona and I ate a Dove ice cream bar. We talked about the man she loved, and how hard it was that he was gone. Today was the six-month anniversary of his death, and they had had plans to do this trip together. We talked of our kids and our lives, and how we learn to go on and thrive after things change for us. We exchanged numbers, and I hope to stay in touch with her.

I came back to camp and reorganized, put up my tent, had a little dinner, built a fire, and have been sitting here catching up with the blog. Henry is puttering around doing his thing, and it’s nice and relaxing. I almost have solitude again.

Real solitude begins again tomorrow as I head out. I’m making a quick drive through the rest of Yosemite, and then I’m heading on to Sequoia National Park. I was going to stay here and hike some more, but I’m antsy to get going and see something new. It’s time to move on. Where, after Sequoia, I don’t know. It’s all a mystery of where I’ll end up next.

Day 17, August 4: Day Hike (written August 5 from notes)

Day 17, August 4: Day Hike (written August 5 from notes)

We had a six-mile hike this day without packs. I still wore mine, but unloaded most of it. I just prefer to carry my water and other things in my regular pack. This was a three mile in and back, and we were hiking to the base of “The Grand Canyon of Tuolumne.”

The hike took us down about 1200 feet in three miles, and then back up. It is a strenuous hike, but beautiful. Only part of the group took the hike. Rick’s knee was bothering him terribly, so he thought he should save it for the hike back on Sunday, and Kim didn’t feel like the hike as she was exhausted from the hike in. She said she was not used to the hard pace of hiking like we had done. I thought that was interesting as I thought the pace, with all the lengthy stops, was unpleasantly slow.

So the group was our leader, Suzanne, Henry the old guy, the six Chinese folks, and Jo, Suzanne’s sister and the “sweep.” (The sweep is the last hiker and makes sure we don’t lose anyone.)

Suzanne, who is a botanist, gave us lots of interesting info about the flora we saw.

The Chinese couples kept the pace quite sluggish. Not that they hiked slowly – they were strong hikers – but when we stopped , they’d take more than 30 minutes taking pictures and they’d scatter, so gathering them together to resume the hike became a chore every time. They were also very loud a lot of the time, chatting at high volume and sometimes singing and laughing. It made the ability to appreciate the wilderness a little difficult at times for me. I’ve spent too much time taking it in alone or with company that likes to experience the wonder in silence or near-silence. It was a great opportunity to practice “The Work.”

But it was a lovely hike, and the Tuolumne River was spectacular to hike alongside with waterfalls and cascades all along the way. We were hiking to “Waterwheel Falls,” but they weren’t very waterwheelie because it’d been such a dry year for snow. But it was still beautiful.

 

When we returned, I went to the store, which is a small tent cabin that has a few items for sale – a little fruit and a little chocolate, both of which I purchased and consumed. They also had lemonade and best of all, chairs. When you’re backpacking, it’s amazing the little things you miss, like a chair with a back and the ability to wash your hands in hot water with soap.  The young man who ran the store, John, was 28 and had been doing it for nine years. He was very good at it, and had some interesting stories to entertain us. One of the best was the story of a hiker just last week who had to be rescued because he was narcoleptic and had lost his medicine. His recounting of the five-day rescue operation, because the hiker kept falling asleep, was hilarious.

We also got rain. It sprinkled just a little as we were coming in from our hike, but then it rained a little harder in the afternoon. I got to break out my new rain jacket, and it worked swimmingly (nice pun, no?). It then cleared off, and a few of us hiked to a high place and watched the sunset. It was a fabulous evening.

Just after we bedded down, the heavens opened up again, and we had a spectacular thunder and lightning show. I did everything right – I set my backpack and boots inside the tent, put on my rainfly with the guy lines to shed the water, and had picked a good spot. What I didn’t remember to do was to close my bite valve on my water bladder, and apparently, during the night, I rolled on to it and emptied the whole thing into my tent. Fortunately, it all ran to a back corner and everything, but the tent and my sleeping pad, stayed dry.

It was a full day, and three of the biggest impressions I had were: 1) The beauty of this place is magnificent; 2) I miss my kids when I can’t talk to them; and 3) backpacking requires a person to be content with being dirty. Really dirty.

Day 16, August 3: Group Hiking in the “Backcountry” (written August 5 from notes)

Day 16, August 3: Group Hiking in the “Backcountry” (written August 5 from notes)

Fully loaded backpack

The issues one encounters when taking a group backpacking/ camping experience became clear immediately as we began our excursion. My campmate, Henry, is apparently OCD. We were to meet at the designated spot by 8 a.m., only a few campsites away, and he was late. I woke 30 minutes later than he and he took so long to get everything just right, I had to wait for him. I finally said I would meet him over there and took off. Waiting for others became a regular occurrence, but more on that later.

Besides having to wait for him, I had an interesting morning packing my backpack and preparing to go. I was working to get everything put in it, and both Dennis from across the way (who was not going on the trip) and Rick (who was going on the trip) came over to advise me on how to pack. It was great to have the help and it made me smile. When we left, Rick said something about how funny it was to watch Dennis flirt with me. I didn’t notice.  Their attention did make me a little uncomfortable, but at the same time, it made packing the pack more enjoyable.

Making choices about what I would need for the next three days was difficult, especially because a person doesn’t want to take more than she needs. All my food had to fit in a bear-proof container, and none can be refrigerated. And you want to be prepared for everything, but you don’t want to take any extraneous items. In retrospect, I think I did pretty well. But once I was finished, I imagine my pack weighed around 40 pounds. Too heavy, but it was the best I could do. Maybe next time I can reduce it by a few pounds.

One of the other major preparations we had to do was to protect all our food from bears. Every campsite, and at the parking lot by the trailhead, there are metal cabinets to put all food and scented items in. You can’t leave your food in the car, you can’t leave an empty cooler in the car, and you can’t leave any scented toiletries in the car. It’s a real pain, and that took quite a bit of time sorting and arranging and then storing it all in the bear cabinets. All that, and I never saw a bear.

A little farther along the trail

The hiking was beautiful, right from the beginning. It began as a fairly level trek through some Lodgepole Pines, and then it moved downhill. The last two miles were at a pretty severe downhill slope, and each step had to be picked carefully to keep from slipping. But my what beautiful land this Yosemite is. The rocks are granite, so everything is pretty gray, except of course the brilliant blue with the green pines piercing it.

 The group of us was an interesting bunch; the Chinese couples stayed together all the time, and the rest of us kind of rotated. I spent most of my time talking with Rick, Kim, or the leader, Suzanne. They were all very different and interesting people.

Suzanne, our leader, at the bridge where she was knocked off by a pack mule and broke her back.

I found my natural spot was near the beginning – Suzanne’s pace was just right for me most the time. She is a 67-year-old woman and has been hiking and leading hikes all over the world for more than 30 years. She’s written a number of books on hiking, and I have one in my library. She was an interesting character and her stories were amazing. She’s had many injuries in all her years, the worst of which was when she broke her back. But nothing seems to slow her down. And she was no slow hiker.

Resting that load...

I also seemed to bond well with Rick. He’s a 50-year-old firefighter from near Fresno, and we hit it off immediately. His wife doesn’t like “sleeping on the ground,” so he takes these trips without her. They’ve been happily married for 30 years, and she’s 12 years older than he is. We talked a lot, both while hiking and in camp, and we both appreciated each other on the trip.

Kim is an interesting woman. She’s in her late 60s and lost the man she’d been with for the last seven years just six months ago. They had planned this trip together, and it was an emotional trip for her. We occasionally visited hiking and spent some time in camp together.

I enjoyed the hiking and most of the time in camp. I did realize, once we had set up camp and settled in for the night, how much I suffer emotionally when I can’t contact my kids and my friends. I went to bed early, simply because I didn’t want to stay conscious and miss them. I was also exhausted – we hiked six miles in carrying the backpacks, and the trips back and forth to the bathroom or the little store there were about ¼ mile each way, down and up a steep incline.  Having no cell phone reception and realizing I wouldn’t for the next three days took quite the toll on me.

But I knew keeping busy hiking and the physical exertion and the beauty of my surroundings would carry me through the next few days.

Day 15, August 2: Yosemite

Day 15, August 2: Yosemite

I left Lake Tahoe this morning, thinking I was disappointed in what I’d found there. And I was, for about five miles. Then, suddenly, I was in the wilderness part of the area. The houses and condos and bars and stores gave way to rocks and trees and wilderness. The lake, although there were still boats moored regularly on its shoreline, showed the beauty that it is.

Lake Tahoe at Emerald Bay

I stopped some to take photos along the way, and before I knew it, I had wrapped around the bottom of the lake, heading southeast toward Yosemite. The mountains were beautiful and varied – for a while the road ran along Carson Creek, a stunning, fast-running river with fly-fisherman standing knee deep in it.

Mono Pass

Mono Lake

I drove over Mono pass that took me to about 10,000 feet before dropping back down to around 4000. I passed Mono Lake with its haunting hoodoos sprouting from the blue blue water. And before long, I was pulling into Yosemite. I stopped every few miles to photograph the shifting scenery, and watched at one point as a helicopter passed over, carrying a huge piece of metal to shore up the power lines running through the mountains. I stopped to inquire about the construction and roped the worker to photograph me in front of a nearby waterfall.

When I reached the campground I met Henry, my campsite mate. He’s in his late 60s and has hiked all over the world. A wonderfully sweet man, we’ve bonded already. We’ve decided to share the backpacking load – he’s bringing his stove and I’m bringing my water filtration kit.

I’ve also met a man who has the campsite across from us. He’s not going on the backpacking trip, but I spent the afternoon over there as he advised me of some not-to-miss hikes here. He’s also offered to let me pitch my tent in his site while he’s off backpacking with a friend. What nice people I’m meeting! I also met another man going on the trip, Rick, who is from the area and is giving me much advice on hikes, parks to visit, and routes to drive. He’s a fire chief in a fairly small town, and just a great guy.

I haven’t had this much company and companionship since I’ve left home, and it’s been nice. It will be interesting to see how the hike goes. In addition to Rick and Henry, there’s a woman, Kim, who’s a bit older than I am, and a group of six Chinese people who live in California now. The woman, Suzanne, who is leading the hike, has written numerous books on hiking and survival, and she and her sister are in their 60s. I feel like a youngster here, except for the Chinese. The Chinese are very talkative and loud, so it will be interesting to see if they calm down a little once we’re hiking.

Tomorrow should begin a very interesting three days.

Day 14, August 1: Lake to Lake

Day 14, August 1: Lake to Lake

Today I began the day at Crater Lake and ended it at Lake Tahoe. You couldn’t have a bigger disparity in the types of atmospheres present at each lake. While Crater Lake is pristine, secluded, and in the middle of a vast wilderness, Lake Tahoe is crowded with boats moored along its shores, surrounded by condos and lake “cabins,” restaurants and bars. The road that runs alongside the lake, unlike the Rim Road at Crater Lake, is crowded and urban. My preference is clear, and it is witnessed by the unease I felt driving to find a campground. But more on that in a minute.

My first view of Crater Lake this morning. What a way to start the day.

Cold, clear water on the toes!

Crater Lake boat dock from the trail.

I chose to hike a short hike today that is the only “legal” means of reaching the water at Crater Lake. It was only just over a mile long, but it went down (and then of course climbed) 700 feet in that mile. The hike up certainly got my heart rate up. But what a destination. The lake is clear and clean and cold, and I took off my shoes to enjoy it on my feet. The quiet and the beauty is unparalleled, even with people waiting to catch the boat just up the hill from where I sat. I debated about taking the boat, but I decided against it.

After the hike back up, I planned my route to Lake Tahoe. I wanted to get most of the drive to Yosemite taken care of today, and I had hoped to find a campsite and then some trails to hike tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll find anything here to hike. It’s quite a different experience than any of the other places I’ve visited.

Nevada/California

The drive was pleasant – I enjoyed seeing the terrain change from the forests of Crater Lake to the more desert type landscape through northern California and coming into Reno. The last time I drove into Reno, it was dark and I couldn’t see any of the landscape, so it was nice to see it all. I had to merge onto the interstate at Reno, and it was busy and congested, and I realized I’ve really enjoyed all the scenic routes I’ve driven, even with the slowdowns for the towns I drove through.

Lake Tahoe. A little different from Crater Lake.

And the interstate driving isn’t the only difference I’ve encountered. The campsite is right off the lake, and it’s expensive and not well run. At $35 a night, it’s much more than most of the fees I’ve paid. Even in Canada it was less than that, and I thought that was expensive.  But the people around me are nice, and it is fairly secluded from the traffic and busyness that is Lake Tahoe resort area. Ick.

But I’m in for an early night’s sleep tonight – I have lots to do to prepare for the hike that begins tomorrow evening at Yosemite. I’ll be in the back country for four days, and I have to pack everything in my backpack that I’ll need. It should be quite an experience and I’m eager to meet the people I’ll be hiking with and to do some real backcountry backpacking.

Day 13, July 31: Oregon Coast to Crater Lake

Day 13, July 31: Oregon Coast to Crater Lake

With a leisurely day on the agenda, I woke fairly early and fixed myself some breakfast on my camp stove. A little eggs and Canadian bacon gave me the boost I needed. I carried my coffee down to the beach to meditate and walk in the ocean. I was early enough to beat the crowd, and I almost had the beach to myself. There’s nothing quite like listening the sound of the waves hitting the beach in the morning and the gulls calling to each other while you bury your toes in the cool, moist sand.

The beach outside my campground.

Pretty soon, the beach started to fill with folks looking for something only an ocean can provide, and I headed to the car to start off to Crater Lake.

Oregon coast

It would have taken less time to get there if I hadn’t had to stop so many times to take a photo of the coastline or simply to stand and take in the beauty of it all. I set the GPS for Seafood Station, that little place Jesse and I ate last summer. It turned out I would hit it about 11:30 – just in time for lunch.

Best seafood on the Oregon Coast

I pulled in the parking lot (about three parking places outside an old filling station that had been renovated), and saw a closed sign in the window. My heart dropped, afraid it was out of business. I parked and went towards the door anyway, and it turned out they didn’t open until 11:30 and it was 11:25. They beckoned me in, and a couple in their 60s followed me closely.

The other couple, Leslie and Jack, and I visited the whole time we ate. He explained, in the first few minutes we were there, that they’d been married for years but were living separately right now. She stayed in the California town they had raised their kids in, and he bought a ranch in southern Oregon to raise hay. He was worried about the economy and wanted something firm, like land, to give him some security. His wife didn’t agree, but they both were doing what they needed to do.

By the end of lunch, we felt like old friends, and she hugged me when we stood to leave. I hugged her back and wished them the best, as they did me. What lovely people there are out there.

On the drive from the coast to Crater Lake

After lunch, I kicked it into higher gear and headed for Crater Lake. With no reservation for camping, I was a little anxious, but I’m learning to trust that things will be what they are and the value that comes from each experience is just exactly what I need and want. I called the park, and the ranger said there were eight spots open, but they couldn’t reserve any for the same day.  So I began to hurry as I was about an hour away by the best estimate. Then I hit road construction. And this was not just slow-you-down-a-little road construction; it was major-delay road construction. Two sets of waiting for a pilot car, and a long drive each time behind that car. And the first pilot car drove, I kid you not, five miles per hour for most of the stretch. In about 45 minutes time, I took about five minutes off the time to arrive according to the GPS.

I began to get very impatient and was cussing that first pilot car driver, when I realized it just doesn’t matter. It would be okay. So I settled in to enjoy my audio book and resigned myself to the time table being forced on me. Then I got to Crater Lake. What I had intended to be a quick drive through the park to the campground ended up having many stops to look at the beauty that this National Park has to offer. My god. It’s amazing. I don’t know how many times I’ve said that about what I’m seeing on this trip, but every single destination and leg of the journey has something unique and special and breathtaking about it. The blue of this lake that is set inside an old volcano defies description. And the mountains surrounding the park are just as awe-inspiring.

Crater Lake is ringed with volcanoes

The road itself runs around the rim of the crater, and the drop-offs are steep and have no guard rails, so there’s no driving fast even if you wanted to. One mis-turn or poor judgment and you’d be careening over the edge to who knows what landing spot.

The bluest water I've ever seen.

I pulled into the campground finally, after being behind a slow car the last five miles or so when we could have driven a little faster, and stood in line behind two other groups of people with business at the campground office. When I finally got to the window, I asked if she had any tent sites left, and what do you know, they had one left. Only one. Now if they had been full, there are plenty of National Forest campgrounds nearby, but as the universe would have it, I had one here, waiting for me.  And to make matters better, it was a “choose your own site” type of reservation, so even though all the campsites were booked, if the people with reservations hadn’t arrived yet, I had the pick of what was open. What a deal.

So now I’m sitting in front of my campfire, writing my blog here for the day, getting ready to plan my hike for tomorrow and then the drive to the next destination. I may try to make it to Lake Tahoe tomorrow, or I may just get a ways down the road to Yosemite, finding a campsite in the Sierra Nevadas or somewhere else along the road.

This kind of travel I like to think of as traveling with feminine energy – just letting it flow. Eating when I’m hungry, stopping when I feel the desire to check something out, sleeping when I’m tired – it’s all a matter of being a part of the flow instead of trying to manage it with linear, masculine energy. I first experienced this type of travel with Jesse out in New York two years ago when we took a four-day trip on his bike. We put everything in a backpack I wore on the back of the bike and we simply took off, open to the experiences that presented themselves. I’ve been hooked ever since. Yes, of course there are times when a little planning makes things easier, but the less planning the better as far as I’m concerned. And I’m hoping I get more and more comfortable with this freedom to roam wherever the journey takes me. When it comes right down to it, that’s really all we do any way, right?