I saved my life by joining Dave Whipple's hiking brotherhood soon after the beginning of summer 2010, right in the middle of my book tour for my graphic novel "Forget Sorrow." Climbing high above sea level meant I could leave my greedy carcass and attain see level in the mountains where the Olympians live.
Having spent forteen years on "Forget Sorrow," the last three years bent over the drawing board, I knew I was going to end up a myopic hunchback. Now nearly a year after I began my weekly regimen of 8 to 12-mile hikes up to 3000 ft. level, my legs are strong, my back straight and my heart pumping for the sheer joy of being alive.
Yesterday was a May Day hike in upper Carmel Valley:
It was like a pop-up page from the life Will Shakespeare. We were met by boatmen, hunters, merry maids, hounds, flowers growing in the shade of oaks where Artemis may have been bathing after the chase. Bird song even at midday.
Larkspurs are edging out the early season shooting stars. The miner’s lettuce have taken on a thick red underskirt. They wilt and turn ocher in the heat. Owl’s clover, ever-comical shake their layers of pink petticoats.
My last visit was in January with Dave and Katchan when the dripping oaks were dark silhouettes, highlighted by moss and a whisper of snow. Today the greens were overwhelming for the rods of the naked eye
It was me and Dan Dolk, sans Cookie, attending one of the many feasts Dave Whipple has set out for us with love and care. (Feasts must always come to an end, so I try never to miss the spread and say grace in my own silent way.)
If there is a machine in outer space that can recapture the sound waves from our lips, it would have recorded memories of childhood, grief, voice-gained, equilibrium attained after loss, silence. Lots of luxurious silence and yes, Donald Trump. He would have been a fitting incarnation of Gluttony, Greed, Vainglory or Pride on Christopher Marlowe’s stage. He mirrors the potential in each one of us to forget our manners in our hubris. Maybe this is why we hate him so.
Can’t wait for Katchan’s return, Dave’s knee to heal properly and the next fancy spread of land, sea and sky.
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