A silver ribbon winding down canyon ahead, the road beckons. Rarely inclined to venture far from home these days, many hours of previous decades were spent on long road trips and peaceful rural commutes all thoroughly enjoyed, and I used to think I would always love to drive long distances—as long as it wasn’t within any city’s toxic limits. But having already traveled to so many different far-flung places, none elsewhere hold much charm of attraction now. It’s fulfilling beyond expectations to simply, slowly travel by muscle power alone hiking local highlands, forests and alpine meadows or canoeing on mirror-still waters of mountain lakes, seeing much more this way than I ever could riding ribbon. It will take a hell of a good destination to draw me out again.
The Hayduke Trail may be that destination before I’m too old and decrepit to hike it.