Lost in B.F.K.

         I am happy to be back on this blog, especially to talk about something a little less traumatic, although nevertheless extreme. Most things in my life work in extremes, so it is no surprise that my walks would follow suit. Throughout the first semester last year, Solomon (my roommate and great friend) and I would plan walks on the Flint Hills Nature Trail here in Ottawa, KS. It is a really flat trail, but beautiful nonetheless. Throughout these walks, we dove into topics of interpersonal communication, theology, philosophy, and probably created our own ‘ologies. Solomon was a very driven guy, very much in shape except for working out the remains of knee surgery the summer prior. That being said, it didn’t take much convincing from me to get him to accompany me on a walk without a destination. The conversations took us where we were going to go. We started walking around 2:30. We decided that we would take the trail longer than ever before, and even veer off it to create our own path…some sort of philosophical metaphor that we thought should parallel actual life. We ended up walking for over ten hours…through the dark with no flashlights, and the rain with no ponchos. We had enough water to survive, and that was really all we cared about. We probably should have cared about more. Although the conversations throughout could fill up novels, the end result was merely worth it. We were lost on gravel roads in Kansas, foreign turf for the both of us, with nothing to predict where to go next. We walked circles, or gravel squares, many times. Every time we would see a lot of light, we swore it had to be Ottawa, and we took that as our compass. When we finally reached a town, we were all but rejoicing. Although it had its main street just like Ottawa, the building that included the post office, fire department, and town hall, told us we had missed the mark completely. Sore, soaked, tired, and hungry, we forfeited ourselves and called for a ride. Luckily, someone was able to figure out where we were and come get us. But not without the help of a navigational system. It took them over 30 minutes by car to get to us in Rantool, Kansas. I have no idea how many miles we walked, but my body knew. We didn’t move much that night, and for the next few days either. Our initial plan was philosophically adequate; to forget about the result and focus on each of the moments. Somewhat of an existential motive that I still try to hold in my everyday life. Living in the moment is great, but at some point in time one must survey their circumstances, and see if the moment is worth taking other moments. I have never really been very goal oriented, so I think this is a lesson for me to learn as well. Taking life as a series of interconnected moments is great, but have a plan, and have mental or physical checkpoints. Do this with walking and with life. This helps steer you clear of unnecessary pain, and most importantly, a soaking wet visit to Rantool.

Son of Mr. Walking Wild

P.S. If you have read any of my writings you know that I get wordy and drag things on sometimes. This particular event though, I could write a novel about. But being that this is a blog site I guess I can only leave but footnotes about one crazy walk.

My friend Carhartt Larry says, "Just because you are wandering aimlessly it doesn't mean you are lost"..er..something like that.