HINJFCA 33: Backtracking Part 1

Okay, so how many of you clever trousers out there sussed out that the 'journal' was actually your humble narrator indulging in some so-called creative writing? Oh, I see – all of you figured it out from the get-go. Well, you'll never again catch me trying to be clever. You lot are far too advanced for me, it seems.

Actually, I couldn't think of another way to bridge the month+ gap between blog entries. Suffice to say that I have moved on from Las Vegas and am now living in the Grand Canyon (not actually inside the Canyon itself ... well, you get the idea).

I did have a bus trip to Flagstaff, AZ where I met some girls from Taiwan (Formosa); they were quite friendly and I've seen one of them on occasion. The 80-mile (+/-) trip from Flagstaff to GC was relatively uneventful, although the higher elevations can promote popping ears, bleeding noses, and even intestinal discomfort. I know because I've experienced these symptoms and more since arriving here in mid-June.

Upon seeing the GC from the south rim trail, I did wonder about the terrain's seemingly abstract angles and valleys and the inherent design and purpose that must lurk underneath those jagged foundations. I did mark an analogy between the Canyon and my own existence. My life has often seemed more the result of happenstance and the vagaries of chance more than the result of a definite plan. But deep down I still believe there is a design within the apparent abstraction; I just can't decipher it yet.

Ah, my self-pity detector is beeping, so I'd better take a different direction here. You may wonder wht happened when I left the Salvation Army in Sin City. After all, I stayed with SA for app. 7 months. During that time I went from sudden homelessness and embarked on a journey of sorts through parts unknown (unknown to me, that is).

I met people I likely never would have met before, given my circumstnces: Ex-cons of both genders, habitual offenders, thieves, cheats, weirdoes, wackos, wack-jobs and wack-everything in between. I met people who had been in and out of prison/jail for more that half their lives. One guy told me that I was the first person he'd ever met who had never experienced any form of incarceration. Indeed, when your humble narrator said he'd never been to jail, his fellow clients seemed to pity him.

Yes, some of those fellow clients seemed to prefer incarceration to a 'normal' life. I've heard that some of them have returned to lockup. Another tried to committ suicide and was locked up in a mental facility. I hope that many of the others are doing better but I haven't heard from many of them since I left SA.

... To be continued (always wanted to write that!) ...

HINJFCA Thirty-Two: Prairie Tales

From the journal of an anonymous traveler, dates unknown:

Well, I did it. Said my goodbyes to the kind folks in Las Vegas town and have now embarked on a strange journey to the east and north.

They was a bit put out about me leaving, really wanted me to stay. Must admit I got attached to the folks at the hospital. They was the ones who helped me recover from my shootout with the Malpaso Kid. A nurse I am fond of told me to forget my anger and let the past go, or some such. I told her I would. But by God if I ever meet up with Malpaso again I will blow a hole through that son-of-a-bitch big enough for a buffalo to roam through.

Doc Martin warned me that where I am going is still a wilderness, filled with all types of dangers from humans and animals alike. After surviving some shootouts with the galoots in Vegas town, I'll take my chances with the four-footed wildlife. The two-footed varmints were enough for me.

(At this point the Traveler was apparently en route to his destination(s); dates unknown):

... Been a easy enough ride on the train from Vegas town to Arizona. Stopped at a small fort called Flagstaff. Been let off at a rail depot where I'm supposed to pick up the next coach heading to the north. Four in the morning now and no one here but the attendant and some fellow travelers. Seem to be from the Orient, I cannot understand them at all. Three gals though, and mighty watchable.

... Two coaches were filled and left me in the dust before I finally snagged this stage. Had to bribe the driver to get a seat, too. The three gals have traveled with me and we have spoken a bit. They are real nice and say they are from a place called Formosa. I asked if that was near China and they got persnickety.

... Heading to the north I can feel the higher elevation make my ears pop. Noisy on this stage what with a couple of dudes from Germany yakking nonstop. Most of my fellow travelers seem to be from foreign lands. I hear some French and even Russian being spoken about. Alls I can understand is some Spanish and Navajo (which sounds kind of like the palaver those gals from Formosa talk) ...

... Seeing a lot of wildlife as we get nearer to our destination. Huge elk, a lot of muledeer and coyotes can be spotted along the plains or sometimes blocking the trails. Even seen a few bear off to the sides. No bison, though. Guess the buffalo hunters have damn near wiped out the herds ...

... The plains seem to stretch on forever. Skies have been clear and blue with the higher altitudes. Someone said that's because we're getting closer to God. Didn't figure on getting that close until I was put six feet under. Driver and scout say it is only a few hours away now, our final destination.

... I hear tell the area looks like a sculptor reached out and carved abstract shapes and patterns out of the very earth and rock. Some folks say it all looks too organized, too planned out to have happened by mere chance or coincidence. I been reflecting on how that could describe my own small existence: Seemingly abstract, events occurring by happenstance without any apparent meaning; yet all along things have been guided by an unseen force, silently orchestrating a plan that I cannot understand, but continues to play out ....

... We have arrived at the place they call El Canon Gran. When I first saw this wonder of nature I felt empty and fulfilled at the same time. I still wonder why I was led here and what I will discover. Guess I will know it when I know it. All I can know for sure is, El Canon was here a long time before we got here. It will be here a long time after we are gone ...

(The journal ends here)