Home > Dispatches >Daily Dispatches 2022 > Daily Dispatch #109

April 21, 2022: Lost

I’ve had to deal with lost dogs, or dogs that have run off and might be lost. The feeling is disconcerting. When out on the trail, the dogs often go further afield than they should. Always, they have reappeared near the Murphy Road Trailhead.

The feeling, of being lost myself, is both similar and different. It is similar in that I have to deal with the uncertainty in not knowing what the outcome might be. And it is different in that I know that I, and not the dogs, are lost.

Today I was lost. I took a wrong turn, maybe cut back in the direction of road when on the way to Grizzly Camp, a bit too soon. I knew fairly quickly that I was not on the trail. I did not backtrack because I would have had to go back uphill. Also, I had been post holing (that is, having the snow pack fall out from under one or both legs), and I figured that returning to the upper trail would increase the likelihood of this occurring again.

So I kept going. For the longest time, nothing seemed familiar. A ridgeline was on my left, and deadfall was on my right. I wove back and forth between the two. And down I went, repeatedly.

The dogs, they were having a wonderful time. I knew that I could not depend on them to make a bee line for home. I was soon in tears. I was well aware that I had gotten lost because my mind was on other things.

Neighbor, Idiot Boy, was, earlier, walking on the loop road. I was pulling a branch, which I was going to give to the horses. As we passed, he said, “don’t hit my dog again or you will regret it.” These were not the exact words – I am too tired to remember them. But it was a threat. What to do? I’m too afraid to call the State Troopers.

And shortly thereafter, Pete yelled at me for inadvertently turning off the internet. He was attending an online meeting.

Both occurrences would have rolled right off of me, but I still am not feeling well. My lower back is sore, and I am still having headaches.

Add to this, the book project. I am feeling right now as though I have been tied to the tails of two of my horses – and the order has been given for them to walk in opposite directions. This is called being drawn and quartered. On the one hand, one person is wanting us to scale back. And on the other hand, another is wanting us to extend our efforts.

All I know is that we need a site for the BLBP. Today I talked to a fellow who was demolishing the house behind the meeting house. Josh was a really nice guy – someone I’d like to get to know. He said he’d talk to the owner and have him get in touch with me. And he also said his wife owns the Silver Birch Thrift Store, and that she has books for us.

So maybe something will come of this. Hope continues to spring eternal. This is what I thought as, finally, Murphy Road came into sight and the dogs appeared behind me.

Next: 110. 4/22/22: Per Chance, to Dream

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