Ever since I've been back, it's been conference calls, the Can't-Help Desk, meetings meetings meetings. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to have a job. But to live in a mountain town yet not be able to get to them is a special kind of torture. I need a date with a lake, a rendezvous with a river.
I don't know about you, but I am a caged animal without the wilderness. It starts with a new-wool itchiness under my skin. In the worst of times, I become a snarly creature. It is like going cold-turkey, this change from my summer fieldwork to the winter office routine. The 20 mile backpacking days are only a faint memory, almost as if I were someone else back then.
A trail run really isn't enough, or a ski, though they serve as band-aids. What I want is total immersion, days and nights on the trail. At the same time, I know winter is for writing (just nominated for a Pushcart Prize! Yay!), a return to yoga, dinners with the friends I have neglected. It is for breathing deep of cold, clear air, watching stars prick the sky, remodeling the cabin. It is all those things, and still..
Maybe I'll try winter camping.