750 miles up (north), and 7500 feet down (in elevation). That’s where you’ll find me.
Yesterday found me fixing fences and getting sunburn on my nose from the intense high mountain sun on fresh snow. Six degrees as I walked the dog before sun up.
Where will tomorrow take me?
And today, I’m on the road again. First time in a long time without my Bud, sitting there shotgun beside me, plugging our noses and singing… On the road again… I get to ride shotgun now, with Bob at the wheel… and that’s pretty sweet too. And anyway, where we’re heading, besides up and down, will be two days driving time closer to Forrest.
It it will take three days of driving to get there, and I’m not quite sure what “there” will be like when we arrive. We have trusted… odd connections made… the right person, the right place, the right communications and feeling… We’re leaping. If we don’t find a net, I believe we’ll sprout wings.
Excitement and anticipation swell. A new world to open before my very eyes. Will it be blinding and brilliant like the new snow? If I make it so, and some days I will. Some days I’ll probably look around my new world and wonder where I am, what I’ve done. It’s up to me. I think I’m gonna make it great.
Yes, of course, I may say something different as we drive through the front gate. But after years of my stomach twisting into a knot as we pulled around the corner each time we returned home, wondering what to expect, what disaster or conflict or problem awaited us upon our arrival… No, I’m not thinking it’s going to be anything too terrible sentimental.
Driving through that front gate, I think I’m going to feel free.
I can feel those wings starting to unfold…
Gin Getz 
Gin and Bob,
Sending you my very best wishes for a smooth trip, and an awesome landing, Glad you both have been and are in my life. Peggy Sue still talks fondly of Gunnar.
All blessings for the move and journey and new home. I know what you mean about coming back with trepidation: that was my life too for eight years. There will be a joy in passing through that gate for the last time, a lightness, a freedom: yes, like sprouting wings. Soak up and enjoy all that is positive in the act of moving on, metaphorically shaking the dust (or snow?) from your feet against those who did not make you welcome.
That’s a memorable new photo of yourself that you have posted at the top right: lean, resolute, piercing eyes searching the distance – the stance of a pioneer. It’s in keeping with your endeavour. But I do hope to see a smile again soon.
Hi White Horse Pilgrim,
I wanted you to know I always love reading your comments…I know they mean a lot to Gin as well!
agreed…
Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!
I wish you all the best !!! Where are you moving to ?Sounds like a warmer place with less hardships .You may even get to like it .They used to say all a man needs to be happy is a good women a good horse and a rifle and sharp knife .Most is true for a women .A good man a good horse and a comfortable place to live .If you like the place you are moving to you will have it all .I might not comment on your writing a lot but I read a injoy it all.
I havent been out of town in years but you never know where my wife to be and I will show up .We are getting married Nov 14 and going to start taking
road trips while we are still in good health .May see you this coming year
I hope you two had a safe trip. Change is disruptive and can be tiring. But, I’m sure you will carry a positive and eager attitude to your new niche. I too enjoy your photos, writings, weather, wildlife, and some small but significant observations. My senses feel like I’m there. I hope we cross paths again. Your friend from Sooner-land.