My new lounger

In a previous blog entry I stated, "I've thought for over a year, I wish I had a bed back here so I could just rest flat. Flat is one of my preferred positions, especially when symptoms are exasperated."

My wish has been fulfilled. Sunday I napped for over two hours on my new prop. I awakened momentarily during that time, heard the birds, smiled, and dozed back into slumber.

I received epidural #17 yesterday. So here I go on my next 12-week round. As a calculated experiment due to some symptom changes, yesterday we skipped my every-six-week neck shouts. That could be a good thing. Time will tell.

I wonder if I should give it a name? lol 

Xylem and Phloem

Monday, 6/12/2017

Grandfather Fir

I walk through the meadow at Massie Gap and proceed up the Rhododendron Trail. I stop about a quarter-mile up at Granfather Fir who lives right at the edge of the trail on the east side. I gently pat him with my hands and run my palms across his bark. I greet him with spoken words, "Hey Grandfather. I've come to see you about my xylem and phloem."

I take a seat on his big, above-ground roots which are elevated the perfect height for me to plop and have my feet supported comfortably by the ground. I lay down my trekking poles and take off my light weight day pack.

Sitting quietly, I think about the communication network within the soil beneath my feet. I've read that trees communicate with each other through their roots, providing the trees around them with support and sustenance, especially when the other trees have been traumatized. There's life in these roots. 

I notice the small, young adult firs a few feet away on the other side of the trail. An image comes to mind of the underground root system connecting these trees beneath the trail. I wonder how much assistance Grandfather has given to those young firs? I wonder if they will grow into full adults?

I breathe deeply and close my eyes. I sit in the quiet. There are some insects flying, but I barely notice their wings and chatter.

I envision my body-electric being energized by Grandfather's roots. The gentle life-force flows up my spine and into my torso and arms and legs and hands and feet and neck and head.  I envision my spine and nerve roots being nourished reducing any inflammation. I envision my adrenal glands becoming normalized. I breathe deeply. I sit, fully allowing the imagery to take its course, feeling the life-force flow through me.

Probably four minutes move by. I open my eyes. I sit quietly hoping my image becomes reality. Even if it's not "real," in the sense of measurable, scientific fact, it's real to me. My reality. 

Grandfather Fir roots

I stand and take a couple steps toward Grandfather Fir. I turn and lean my back against his sturdy trunk. I straighten my spine so that, as much as can be, it is in contact with Grandfather's strong torso. I close my eyes and envision Grandfather's xylem and phloem moving nutrients up and down his body distributing nourishment and allowing his body to work like its designed to work - giving life, cleaning the air, providing oxygen. As I envision his physiology touching my own physiology, I whisper, "Heal my xylem and phloem."

Probably two minutes move by. I open my eyes and breathe deeply. I retrace my couple steps and again sit down on Grandfather's root-perch.

Probably one minute moves by. I hear human chatter coming down the trail. A moment later, two young men and two young women in their early twenties come around the bend. They have traveled to Grayson from Georgia and Florida, making some other Blue Ridge mountain stops along their way. It's their first visit to these Highlands. They have caught the Grayson magic.

They had hiked to Mt. Rogers, the highest point in Virginia, and were on their way back down to their vehicles. It's about a nine-mile round trip which includes rugged terrain and boulders. I've hiked to Mt. Rogers once. There are lots of above-ground roots along the last half-mile of the journey. I've hiked the eight-mile route within a mile of Mt. Rogers multiple times.

The five of us hiker-chat for five to ten minutes. It's energizing. This is my clan, among these souls that love this land and know that no words suffice to describe its enchantment. We say our good-byes and good lucks.

I smile, breathe deeply, stand upright, don my light weight day pack, and pick up my trekking poles. I continue up the trail. My goal? Another three-fourths-of-a-mile to the bench that borders Jefferson National Forest.

Comparisons

I'm glad I write because I have a record of life that I can go back and read. And recall. And compare to now. And I get reminded that I have improved, in regard to the nerve damage.

In the actual living moment of coping with the debilitating fatigue and weakness, in that moment, it feels overwhelming. And it is. And I sometimes just want life to end, feeling I can't keep this up. It is difficult to see beyond the moment, and I try not to because usually that just induces worry about all the things that need to be done that I am incapable of doing and how far behind I am and on and on. That's not healthy.

But if I recall what I have accomplished that day, or in the past week...I give myself an "atta girl"...as best I can.  I made the bed. I dressed. I made my morning smoothie and cleaned the kitchen sink. I recycled what can be recycled to help steward our planet. Maybe I bathed or got my nails trimmed. Maybe I did my stretches. Maybe I saw a pet client. Maybe I worked at the art studio for a couple hours. Maybe I paid some bills. Maybe I rode my bike or walked with my walker or trekking poles. Maybe I spread some kindness.

My "atta girls" are sometimes accompanied with a sense of sadness. I am my own cheerleader. Sometimes I want cheers from others, but I don't ask. Because then I start talking about my crazy health issues. And, not to sound arrogant or special or something like that, I've learned that most people can't relate. They simply can't and to try to explain can be frustrating for me, and probably frustrating, not to mention boring or draining, for them. I have met only one person who has my same diagnosis, but their symptoms aren't as severe. I met her in the neurologist's waiting room; we were both receiving injections that day. She was still working as a public school teacher. That'd be impossible for me.

Every so often I search online for face-to-face support groups in the area where I live. There are none for my condition. There are support groups for specific ailments, but none for mine.

I have searched for support groups for chronic illness in general. There are none. And I've said to my self, Of course there are none. People with chronic illness don't have the energy for a support group. And I've responded, But those groups for specific ailments are chronic. The person's energy is limited and they live with the fatigue. Maybe the groups are led by someone who has improved or had the condition in the past. 

Point being, I feel overwhelmingly alone. It is an often occurrence.

The place I feel most connected and the least alone is in the mountains. And, ironically, that connection is deeper when I take my trips solo. I am "alone," but I feel "all one" - connected and hopeful and like I'm being lovingly succored in the palms of the hands of creation. After a Grayson trip on June 12 I told my psychologist, "It may sound weird, but as I stood on the trail looking over the mountains and trees and meadows and giant rocks and ponies grazing in the distance, I felt whole and nurtured and cradled.  I feel at home. At the same time, I also feel I'm an honored guest."

On that same Grayson trip as I walked back down the trail, I stopped and looked and listened. There were no other human sights or sounds. I thought, I feel no fear up here. None. Even if it were night time, I'd feel no fear. I'm not naive to think that nature is always "kind." There are dangers. But, for me, those dangers are less than where we contemporary humans swarm with our problems and regimens and overload.

But in the context of "where we humans swarm," maybe a better word would be "hardships" rather than "dangers." Hardships, with their never-ending drip-drip. Of course I have the convenience and luxury of not having to carve a life off the land which would be arduous, making our modern hardships pale in comparison to our forebears. And maybe "pale" isn't the right word; the comparison is more like apples to oranges. The hardships of life now are different from our ancestors. Our dangers are different too.

I now have a summer project - to take a mountain trip at least every other week; every week if I can.

mists from the valley
blue ridge parkway ~ 6/19/2017 mountain trip ~ high piney spur overlook
pilot mountain and hanging rock in the far distance

~*~

I'm glad I write because I have a record of life that I can go back and read. And recall. And compare to now. And I get reminded that I have improved, in regard to the nerve damage.

A few minutes ago I read this piece which I wrote in 2014, Absent Reserves.  It was a good reminder. Since surgery, I've felt that same "absent-reserves" fatigue almost without a break. I got a few weeks break in February when the epidural worked well. But the rest of the time it seems my routine injections and epidurals and my daily medicines and nutrition are working maybe at 60%(?) compared to pre-surgery.

And I say to my self,  Hey...that's 60%.

Like my June 12, 2017, trip to Grayson. I was able to ride my bike 1-1/2 miles up the mountain compared to last June's 4 miles up the mountain. I told my self, Hey...that's 1-1/2 miles.

Sometime I wonder if I should have had the surgery last August. The answer is always, "Yes." I really didn't have an option. I couldn't leave a faulty hip implant leeching cobalt and chromium into my body. The possible consequences were too high, one being sure bone death. And possible benefits may still come as time goes on and the metal levels come down.

Surely they will come down.

Surely there will be benefits to come.

I just need to keep going and get up and over this mountain.

The Deal Breaker (an excerpt)

Following is an excerpt from part three of my Way story, which seems to be in continual revision these days.

Rereading it this morning, I was struck by the gravity of the decision to leave The Way. I recall the fear, trembling, self-doubt, and more. That I had to come up with an exit strategy and the agonizing that went into that process almost boggles the mind, but then again not. Among other things it shows how deeply the tentacles of indoctrination and herd-mentality affect the soul.

When I left The Way and told people outside The Way that I had left, some responsed that I had simply left one church for another. I didn't object to their comments. Rather, I considered them and thought maybe that's all it was...yes, that's all it was.

But it wasn't. It was much larger than that.
___

In October, 2005, after twenty-eight years of loyalty I exited The Way. To leave was a tormenting decision riddled with internal chaos. In my mind by choosing to leave I would be playing the Judas role three times (the number three Biblically representing "complete") and breaking a salt covenant ("worthy of death" according to Old Testament standards) which I had taken in 1981 at a Way Advanced Class Advance.

My departure was not in AWOL fashion as I had attempted two times before in previous decades. Rather, while trembling, I informed our husband-and-wife Limb/Region Leaders via phone about my decision. My husband joined the conversation via a second phone extension in our house. I wanted a witness.

The leaders' responses were that perhaps I needed to be going to more functions and wasn't giving enough; that I should have counseled with Way leadership before making my decision; that if I had "sincerely prayed" and contemplated, I would have chosen to stay with The Way; that The Way had experienced some problems through the years not unlike the first-century church; that most followers who leave never return; and that I was welcome back at anytime.

But no one could convince me to continue. Throughout the previous couple years my heart had become a vast, empty hole. I felt like a shell of a person. I wanted to feel whole again. Yet it was an incident with my son earlier that October that really catalyzed my decision to leave.

My then fifteen-year old son, his eyes damp with tears, said to me, "Mom, I feel empty inside." That was it. The vast void in my soul was not only affecting me, it was affecting my children. Or maybe my son was growing his own vast hole. At that point, I had to leave. Not to say that there weren't other reasons, but that incident was the deal breaker.

Through the previous couple years one of the main reasons I had stayed with The Way was for my family and children. I was afraid that if I left we would become splintered because we wouldn't be like-minded on the Word. It was one of my biggest fears. And then when I finally left, it was for my children. The scales had tipped, and the potential benefits outweighed any possible risks.

I already had a quasi-exit plan. For six months, since April, 2005, I had been seriously researching how to exit, in case this time would come. I didn't want to give up on the Word or become bitter. I just wanted to feel whole and connected again. I had to figure out whom I could trust; that's what it boiled down to. I left via one of the ex-Way splinter groups which was vital in helping me with my exit and later with my husband's. Though we only continued with the group for about one year, we will always be thankful for their help. (Click here to read a memoir piece about a letter I received in  in May, 2005, that was the linchpin in my exit strategy.)

In hindsight, my exit in 2005 had begun at least seven years prior. In October, 1998, I began journaling, and I didn't stop. Since 1982 I had beaten my self up with shame and berated my self over being unable to believe God for healing of my chronic health issues. The Way taught a health-and-wealth gospel, though The Way would never call it that. (Click here to read about that doctrine helping to drive me to the brink of suicide.)

I was no longer able to stuff my inside turmoil into oblivion.  The only thing I knew to do was, to write and write and write. Darkness, emptiness, pain, grief, self-loathing. It poured onto the page, which led to writing about hopes and dreams. For seven years I wrote until, quite literally, I wrote my way out of The Way.

Over the following eight months after I left in October, 2005, my husband and our children cut allegiances with The Way, each in their own time. Our then fifteen-year-old son drifted away within a couple months after my official exit. My husband officially left at the end of March, 2006. And our then eighteen-year-old daughter quit going to Fellowships around May, 2006. (Click here to read a letter my husband sent Rosalie Rivenbark, President of The Way at the time, shortly before his departure.)

___

Excerpt Series: Part Three of my Way story
1984 and onward: Loyalty ~ Exit ~ Aftermath ~ Life

Crossroads
Hush Patrol
The Deal Breaker
Aftermath
Post-exit

___

New Life on the Mountain ~ Grayson Highlands ~ June 12, 2017

I was able to visit Grayson Highlands on Monday, 6/12/17. I needed a visit with my sacred tree, Grandfather Fir. He was waiting for me.

I think it was 2015 when I first prayed to Grandfather Fir. A simple prayer, "Heal my limbs. You have limbs. Strong. Durable. Limbs. Heal my limbs." That began my sacred relationship with trees.

Later, as the symptoms in my body spread to my back and neck and jaws, my prayer expanded, "Heal my trunk and my crown." Trunk refers to my spine and back and neck. Crown refers to my jaws and head; in my head I also began to regularly feel dizzy or swimmy-headed.

And now, due to the severe fatigue I'm dealing with, I've expanded my prayer again, "Heal my xylem and phloem." Xylem and phloem are like a trees circulatory system. It's not that I wasn't fatigued before, but since surgery on 8/30/16, my body isn't responding as well to my routine injections and epidurals and daily meds. Thus I'm not getting symptom-breaks like I used to. So, I figure my xylem and phloem need some help.

My 6/12/17 visit turned into another magical Grayson day - the whole experience, including the few people I met. Perhaps I'll write about it later.

Rhododendron Trail, the path to Grandfather Fir

Bee in flight among Mountain Laurel blossoms

Pollinating 

Infant blueberries

Not far from Mom

Grazing with Mom

Taking a rest near Mom

Among daisies

~*~

Well, this is cool. After posting this blog piece I came across a blog entry from January, 2017. In the January blog entry there's a picture of the pregnant mare who is pictured above with her foal. The photo above is captioned "Among daisies." Below is the photo from 1/25/17 when she was pregnant with that foal..

1/25/17.  Pregnant mom. Same pony as "Among daisies" with her foal.

Below is another photo from 6/12/17 with a back-side view. I have a few others as well. I was able to compare her markings. I'm sure it's the same pregnant pony from 1/25/17.

6/12/17. To compare markings. 

~*~

Docudrama: "Deliver Us From Evil"

Click here to watch the full episode of "Deliver Us From Evil."
___

Saturday night, 6/10/17, Hubby and I watched ABC's 20/20: In An Instant. The episode, "Deliver Us From Evil," is about a young woman who escaped a cult. She was sexually abused by the leader from the age of thirteen through twenty-three. Her name is Lindsay Tornambe. She was not the only victim. The cult was River Road Fellowship originally located in Finlayson, Minnesota. Last I heard the cult, for the most part, is defunct.

The cult leader's name is Victor Barnard. Barnard is a graduate of the 14th Way Corps, The Way International's leadership training program. He left The Way International in 1990 and began his splinter group, River Road Fellowship, a few years later.

In 2010 Lindsay left the cult. In 2012, she began contacting authorities about her story. She was finally heard in 2014 when a local investigative reporter, Tom Lyden, contacted her and broke the story. The authorities started to listen. Barnard was already on the run. The US Marshals got involved. Barnard was captured in Brazil in February, 2015. He was extradited to the USA in June, 2016. He plead guilty in October, 2016, and was sentenced to thirty years incarceration. In January, 2017, he was severely beaten in prison which resulted in broken bones, a collapsed lung, and a traumatic brain injury.

Both Hubby and I thought the docudrama was really well done. Though I'd prefer less or no background, eerie mood music. And Barnard's character, much of the time but not all the time, comes across as the Hollywood, stereotypical cult leader with almost complete control over the followers, which in my opinion, is overly simplistic. The girls who play the roles of Lindsay and Jess do an excellent job portraying how children can be led into the grips of indoctrination and abuse.

Theatrics aside, the core of the content of the drama is realistic and comes through clearly, to me. Though there is one error stated by investigative reporter Tom Lyden. He states Barnard purchased land in Minnesota in 1985. It definitely wasn't 1985; The Way had not yet experienced its mass exoduses of followers. I think Lyden simply made an error and meant 1995. I've read the purchase was made in 1996.

Here's a link to a short article about the film-maker and the docudrama: Cult docu-dramatized: Duluth-raised filmmaker directed episode of '20/20: In an Instant'.

It's a heartbreaking and sickening story; "horrifying" is the word my husband used. But it's also a story of great strength - of a young woman coming forward in a situation where it seems authorities will never hear her. Lindsay Tornambe does a superb job in this film as she shares her story in her own words interspersed throughout the drama. She shines like a bright light exposing the darkness. And that darkness cannot put out her light.

One has to wonder how any parent could ever allow their child to be placed in such danger? How could they be so blind? And how could anyone end up following a man like Barnard?

One thing in common regarding people who join such groups, unless they are born into the group, they typically get involved when vulnerable. Something happens that throws life into chaos. and we look for answers. In the case of River Road Fellowship, many (most?) of Barnard's followers had left The Way International which was all encompassing and dominated their lives. After exiting a group like The Way, the former follower is often left with a gaping hole waiting to be filled; they are again vulnerable and even conditioned to follow and obey. Here's an excellent article that may help shed some light on Barnard's followers: Betrayed followers say sect leader Barnard’s abuse surfaced gradually.

___

Below is a preview clip of the docudrama. In An Instant posts full episodes one week after airing on national TV. I will update this post with a link once it's available. (Update link to episode.)




Below is thirty-minute video compiling five different news clips from KMSP Fox 9 out of Minneapolis. The compilation goes from when the story originally broke in 2014 through the manhunt in early 2015.

Below is a seven-minute video from January, 2017, about a civil lawsuit filed by Lindsay against fifteen former leaders of River Road Fellowship.


___

Links to posts on toss & ripple about Barnard:
3/01/14: Victor Barnard and River Road Fellowship (contains links to news articles up through the arrest)
4/19/14: More thoughts regarding Victor Barnard...and influence...and The Way...and...
8/18/2014: Victor Barnard: "Preaching Lies" to air on "The Hunt," Sunday, August 24, 2014
2/28/15: Victor Barnard is apprehended in Brazil... (contains links to news articles after the arrest)
6/11/17: Docudrama: "Deliver Us From Evil"
___

Victimhood

Some weeks back I shared with Hubby, "I'm updating my story on my blog. I again get concerned I'll come across like a victim. Then I again realize, I was a victim. That's just a fact. But I don't think I have a victim mentality. Do I?"

The subject has been on my mind again the past couple days.

First what is a victim?

The Oxford dictionary defines "victim" as "a person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other event or action." A sub-definition under that is "a person who is tricked or duped."

Everyone who lives long enough is a victim of some circumstance, event, or actions beyond their control. It is unavoidable. What we do in response determines whether or not we live with a victim mentality.

So, what defines a victim mentality?
What is a normal response when one is a victim?
How can one avoid falling into victimhood?

Following is an excerpt from an article posted on the Harley Therapy Counselling Blog out of the UK. Here is a link to the article: The Victim Mentality – What It Is and Why You Use It.

Being a Victim vs Self Pity vs Victim Mentality

Bad things can happen in life. You might be the victim of a crime, such as fraud or even sexual assault. In such a case you have every right to feel that things were out of your control, because they were, and any thought that it’s somehow your fault and you are responsible is erroneous thinking.

It’s also perfectly normal to feel sorry for yourself every once in a while, or feel powerless in the face of a challenge like a bereavement or divorce.

But if you have a victim mentality, you will see your entire life through a perspective that things constantly happen ‘to’ you. Victimisation is thus a combination of seeing most things in life as negative, beyond your control, and as something you should be given sympathy for experiencing as you ‘deserve’ better. At its heart, a victim mentality is actually a way to avoid taking any responsibility for yourself or your life. By believing you have no power then you don’t have to take action.

A healthy person, on the other hand, recognises that beyond random bad occurrences, many things in life happen because of choices they themselves made, and that they have power to choose differently. And they understand that when misfortune does happen, it is nothing to do with personal value or ‘deserving’ or ‘not deserving’.

So what are some of the ways I have responded to various victim-events in my own life? Where have I landed in the hood of victim-village?

• Self-pity from time to time? Yes.
• Anxiety due to a string of bad circumstances that left me waiting for the next bad thing to happen and wondering where the next bad thing would fall from and how could I move out of the way when and if it fell? Yes.
• From time to time, feeling I deserve the injuries I've received? Yes.
• Feelings of self-doubt and self-blame and guilt that I have brought these injuries on myself? Yes.
• Wondering if I did the right thing in response to the unlucky circumstances? Yes.
• Wondering if I'm "attention-seeking" when I post parts of my story and experiences online? Yes.
• Wanting to be understood and to be able to tell my side of the story, to give it voice? Yes.
• Replaying certain events and circumstances over and over in my head wondering what did I do to cause certain events to happen? Yes.

• Feeling I have no power to choose differently? No.
• Seeing my entire life through a perspective that things constantly happen "to" me? No.
• Avoiding taking responsibility for my actions and words? No.
• Seeking sympathy for the predicaments in which I found myself? No.

~*~

Then there is this article posted on the same website: Do You Have a Victim Personality? 12 Ways to Tell. Here are the twelve identifying factors. Each of these is expounded on in the article.

• 1. You Often Feel Helpless.
• 2. You Have A Tendency To Complain.
• 3. You Are Rarely Visibly Angry.
• 4. You Are, However, Convinced Those Around You Are Always Upset Or Angry With You.
• 5. You Expect Other People To Know How You Feel.
• 6. You Talk About Other People More Than Yourself.
• 7. You Talk About Events For A Long Time After The Fact.
• 8. You Believe That The World Is A Dangerous Place.
• 9. You Just Can’t Get Ahead No Matter How Hard You Try.
• 10. When Stressful Things Happen You Can’t Think Straight.
• 11. You Believe You Are Entitled To Being Treated Well.
• 12. You Often Feel Exhausted Or Have Colds And Flu.

This list strikes a bit close to home. Keeping in my mind that it is "just a list," the factors that cause me pause are numbers 1, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12. Most of those pause-causers tie in closely with living with chronic illness. Some of them also tie in with the aftermath of therapist abuse and an attempted character assassination. That aftermath is a bit hazier, not so clear-cut as a physical disability.

• #1: "You often feel helpless." As much as I'd like to, I don't have control over the physical symptoms I manage on a day-to-day basis. And because of my symptoms, often times I am faced with a feeling of helplessness.
• #3: "You Are Rarely Visibly Angry." I don't often visibly express anger.
• #7: "You Talk About Events For A Long Time After The Fact." I do often talk/blog about my disability and its associated circumstances, but it's not a long time after the fact because I'm living it in the present. Sometimes I still talk about the Knapp trauma, and I wish I'd get through that already. 
• #8: "You Believe That The World Is A Dangerous Place." The world is a dangerous place. I endeavor to not allow the danger-mentality to dominate. I do take calculated risks. I trusts people less easily than I once did, and I don't think that's a bad thing. As Bilbo Baggins said, “It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to."
• #9: "You Just Can’t Get Ahead No Matter How Hard You Try." I can't get ahead in the sense that I can't get things done around my home because I literally can't do them. Much of my energy has to be spent on self care; it's not a luxury. 
• #10: "When Stressful Things Happen You Can’t Think Straight." I often can't think straight when stressful things happen. But isn't that true of many people? 
• #12: "You Often Feel Exhausted Or Have Colds And Flu." I often feel exhausted but I don't get "sick." Fatigue is part of the symptom picture for polyradiculitis. I haven't had a cold in over six years (tap on Groot). I only had the flu once and that was a side effect of an immunosuppressant drug which I quit taking when I got the flu. 

Again, it's "just a list." But I'll probably ponder it a bit. I may search more online and see what other sites state about victim mentality.

I didn't answer one of the questions I posted at the beginning of this post:  how can one avoid falling into victimhood?

"Victimhood." Brings to mind a mental image of a dark shadowy figure hiding under a hoodie cape, like a victim reaper. 

~*~

After posting this blog entry, I searched a bit more on the Harley Therapy site. Here is an article with good pointers about how to avoid falling into victimhood: How to Cope When Life Does Things You Can’t Control.

~*~

West Coast Trail - May, 2017

My son, Josh, and his backpacking buddy, Richard, recently hiked the West Coast Trail in the Pacific Rim National Park Reserve in British Columbia, Canada. It's a coastal trail and only for experienced, fit hikers and backpackers. It's not a long trail, only 47 miles, but "has the reputation of being one of the most grueling treks in North America. It is isolated, strenuous, physically challenging and potentially hazardous." It is considered one of the top ten hikes in the world and "was built in 1907 to facilitate the rescue of shipwrecked survivors along the coast, part of the treacherous Graveyard of the Pacific."

Josh and Richard hiked north to south. They met a solo hiker, Michael from Canada, who joined them for the entire hike.

Below are some short, fun video clips and a few photos. Josh's trail name is Sponge, which he was christened with on his 52-day backpack trip of Iceland in 2015. Josh wears the orange backpack.

I just love this stuff. And continue to live vicariously...

~*~

Crossing one of the suspension bridges. That's Richard's vocals. Hilarious!





Josh riding a hand pulled 'cable car' across a river/ravine.

Michael (Bronty) and Josh (Sponge) bouldering

Just one suspension bridge

 Richard on a bridge. Look at those ladders behind him!

Sponge and Bronty ascending

Sea lions

To see over 100 more pics, click here.

Perspective...

Worth the watch. Four minutes and twenty-three seconds...




From PBS: "Designer born without hands chooses a life of inspiration: When Ryan Hudson-Peralta was born with a congenital limb deficiency, doctors said he would never drive a car, go to a regular school or have a family of his own. Now all grown up, the web designer is an inspiration to his family, friends and colleagues. His son, Noah, produced this report as part of our Student Reporting Labs for our series Limitless."

Say what you need to say...

Pandora played Say for me recently. I hadn't heard it in some time.

It brought to mind a youtube video I ran across some years back.

I really like this youtube with scenes from the movie The Bucket List.

We need no grand purpose to say what we need to say.
And if we think no one hears, say it to a cornfield where there are lots of ears.







"Say"
by John Mayer

Take all of your wasted honor
Every little past frustration
Take all of your so-called problems,
Better put 'em in quotations

Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say

Walking like a one man army
Fighting with the shadows in your head
Living out the same old moment
Knowing you'd be better off instead,
If you could only . . .

Say what you need to say [x8]

Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You'd better know that in the end
Its better to say too much
Than never to say what you need to say again

Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open

Say what you need to say [x24]