The first

What is the Continental Divide Trail? In one sentence, it may be described as a trail that traverses the United States while attempting to remain as close as possible to the mountain ranges that dictate which way water flows (east or west) on the continent. For more, see CDTA and Wikipedia webpages.

My plans (I know, I know Mr. Burns, I hear you) involving hiking on the trail until I begin law school at the end of August (Go Eagles?). Although I had previously banked on going from border to border, I've realized it's just not possible. School begins too early, I'm leaving too late, it just ain't happenin.....as Jesse Spano noted in that famous episode of Saved By The Bell where she overdoses on caffeine! pills (kids, caffeine is dangerous) "there's no time."

Besides being dissapointed that I won't get into Stansbury (how are these SbtB references doing for you?) I'm frustrated I won't be able to cross the United States from end to end.

There is an ugly troll that often makes his perch on my shoulder. I named him Mr. Ego. He's cute in a furry, abrasive, insecure kind of way. He's the one who's really mad that I won't get to go border to border.

Crossing the U.S. is a neat and tidy package of a tale I can unveil with grandeur and grace while sitting with a few chaps, chomping a cigar, and polishing my monocole around a table of solid oak down at the country club.

Crossing the U.S. is a notch on my belt, or bedpost, or forehead, or wherever one chooses to place the notches of ones life.

Crossing the U.S. is a carrot and a stick that will get me up in the solidly cold mornings and keep me going to the next boulder I must bound.

It would be pretty cool. But I suppose I cannot write in the present tense anymore about this particular accomplishment because it won't happen. I'm beginning in Northern New Mexico and I better start getting ok with it. Maybe I can hike the difference in New Mexico some other time, but for now, I'm left with this.

And, if were to draw any lessons from my journey - and if I were to glean any such particularly breathtaking parables, where would I write them down? A blog! Praise be for living in such gloriously connected times - this would perhaps be the first. It really doesn't matter if I make it border to border in this trip. It doesn't matter if I stay directly on the trail (sometimes I won't be able to: weather, water, confusion, aliens). It don't matter if I go as fast as I want to go (though eventually I'll run out of time).

I won't wake up any better or worse or different by doing it a certain way. I have to draw some other enjoyment from this. What is this mystical enjoyment? Uh. I'll keep you updated (again! on a blog!).

And steering back to the title of this posting, I won't be the first to do anything here. Plenty of people walk the CDT. Folks such as: The Onion (twice, all at once!), these folks (maybe I'll see them?), this dude, a lady from Kansas named Yogi (who compiled by Bible in preparing for this trek, I am in your debt Yogi), Jonathan Ley (thanks for the maps Jon, as long as I'm shouting my indebtedness into the interweb ether, some of it is directed your way), as well as too many others to count.

The CDT is both entirely unimpressive because so many people count the trail in their memory abacuses'. At the same time it is incredibly daunting. These sentiments are usually mutually exclusive. hmm.

In news more relevant to my current existence, I leave in 7 hours and my pack is too heavy.





Perhaps I shouldn't pack the electric fan