look, ma, no hands!

Have you seen the bridge?
I ain’t seen the bridge!
Where’s that confounded bridge?
— the prophet robert anthony plant

I’m on the verge of crossing No Hands Bridge. My pace is down to 15:40 miles as the fatigue sets in and the monkey jumps on my back, but I’m still hoping to finish before darkness envelops the trail.

I can almost taste the finish line, just a big climb and a few miles away. It tastes like pizza. I’m going to make it.

and then.

I stop daydreaming and pause on the bullfrog loop to update the tracking for moose and mild sauce. They’re doing great; over halfway, 12 hours. I send all the good karma an old guy can muster across the desert and over the mountains to a little single-track trail in California as the sun sets and the headlamps come out.

I hope no hands bridge brings them hope and agony and joy. I was lucky enough to run over it once for a shorter race; I know a little of how it feels to see it in the distance. The proud finisher of a 2-mile walk today, I am humbled and awed by the feat they’re accomplishing.

I hope that soon the finish line in Auburn will be so close they can taste it.

I hope it tastes like pizza.

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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1 Response to look, ma, no hands!

  1. Kieran says:

    I have no ideas what any of this means or where it is, but I like it.

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