We like wrap-ups. Whether it is a relationship, basketball game, a book, or what have you, it is generally bad without any kind of a wrap-up. Thusly, it would be detrimental to the welfare of the blog if we didn’t wrap-up it. By gods, I entreat you to tell me how to finish this. Admittedly, I have kind of put this finishing business off for a while…because frankly, I don’t want it to finish. By writing this blog to end all blogs, I am nailing the last nails on my coffin.
Nevertheless, we march on. Operating this blog during our travels was surprisingly easier than I thought. It was kind of nice to feel that our followers were traveling with us in spirit, living vicariously through our words. What’s more, when I get back to ol’ Frederick, I found myself not having to explain our trip from A to Z. People were already aware about the general picture of the trip and some stories that emanated from this lovely blog. If you know me, you should know that I am not generally fond of small talks. Thanks to this blog, instead of having small talks, meaningful conversations with people ensued. I also have learned that sometimes even English trumps ASL. There were some stories in the blog that I would have found it hard to explain in ASL…English somehow becomes it possible for me to tell you more about my feelings, the surroundings, and the event itself.
The group dynamics for this trip were simply magical. We already knew eachother pretty darn well to start with but seventy days of jamming up together everyday….oh boy we started learning about eachother. Like how Scott would nod his head repeatedly when he drives. How Bobby burrows his eyebrows when he reads. How Bobby ties his knot on the sleeping mat…it looks the same everyday without fail. Or when Scott gets up in the morning, he would stroll around, looking for a place to piss just like a dog would, and finally finding his spot; the delight in his face when he goes is pretty entertaining. Or when we all hike, when it is a steep climb ahead, Bobby and Scott would unknowingly part ways so I could pass, because I climb these mountains like Lance Armstrong. When we do our return hike…Bobby is simply the best down-scrambler I have ever seen. His nifty feet are something to behold, as he glides (literally) down a field of boulders on a deep descent. When we get to the “Get the fuck out of here” mode Scott is glorious. Bobby and I try with all of our might to keep up with Scott while he furiously makes his way down a mountain. I could go on and on all day about our peculiar tendencies or group dynamics. But it is these kinds of things that make me miss about the trip the most. The intangibles. How Bobby and I would inwardly groan as we pitch up the tent while Scott is taking a dump. Or when they infuriatingly waited for me while I got lost in a gas station trying to decide between a snickers or payday. It goes on.
Our path diverges…Scott continues his journey of the west. I go back to the land of Kendall Green and play football. Bobby dresses up in a tie suit, working from 8 to 4. Things do fall apart, but at least we have this. We have the memories of our reckless youth, when we felt that we could conquer everything that we set our minds to. I can promise you, the next journey…I am going to write blogs…and I only can hope the two companions whom I care deeply about would join. There are many things I dream of doing. The first deaf person atop Everest. Sail around the world. Don’t worry, I’ll be taking you along with me as well.