Big Foot

I used to hike with this guy. His trail name was Big Foot. We got separated on one stretch of trail and never crossed paths again. Lots of people out there obsess about blogging or journaling their journey. Big foot just had this little spiral notebook. “I have to find something beautiful to write about every day. Just one or two sentences. It helps keep me positive, because some days it’s really hard to make yourself find something beautiful.”

I haven’t thought about Big Foot in awhile. I regret getting separated from him, as he was a very kind, gentle man. I remember limping along through the grass outside of Warner Springs. Every step, my feet felt like they were going to snap in half, pain shooting up through my legs, the hot red sun rising in the cool blue morning haze, and Big Foot shrinking in the distance as he got further ahead. I remember racing up a desert hill with him on my heels, resting in the shade with him, cowboy camping on a desert bluff back in the bushes… under the stars… I remember a stretch of days, maybe a week or two, where I always thought I was going to turn a corner and see him sitting there. Sometime along, after many disappointing corners, I heard he had gotten off trail. I never saw Big Foot after that.