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WRITING AND HIKING
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WRITING AND HIKING
Blog
About
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Blog
About
Contact
“That’s the arm pit calling the ass crack hairy.” From the Aussie outback.
LRS 10/7/23 LRS 10/7/23

“That’s the arm pit calling the ass crack hairy.” From the Aussie outback.

‘I’ll also be content in having invested in experiencing life with my brother’s arm around my shoulder and mine around his; as a brother’s bond stretches to all lands and across all boundaries.’

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Timing. A post travel reflection.
LRS 6/8/23 LRS 6/8/23

Timing. A post travel reflection.

Timing. A post-travel reflection.

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A team was formed and friendships were born. A journey into yoga. Goa, India.
LRS 3/29/23 LRS 3/29/23

A team was formed and friendships were born. A journey into yoga. Goa, India.

A team was formed and friendships were born - A journey into Yoga.

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The mountains inhale, as do I. A Himalayan adventure begins.
LRS 2/17/23 LRS 2/17/23

The mountains inhale, as do I. A Himalayan adventure begins.

The mountain takes a breath, as do I.

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A Ladakhi farmer showing me the way forward. No path to follow
No one to guide 
Just a goal in the distance 
And choices to be made. Had to be my favourite camp location I think. 
On the edge of an almost frozen river bubbling away all night and Eagles circling over head.  The closet people, a group of shepherds about 1000m above and a couple of arduous days hike away. 

Absolutel To walk in the footsteps of men I have admired since a teenager was truely fulfilling.  An almost impossible story to predict in order to get here. 

My Dad told me a story when I was young.  About a person who was trying to leave his village and cli Trail thoughts.  Maybe hypoxic. 

Many cultures and many different relationships with horses. However it seems the horses have the very same relationship with many different cultures. 
They see us for what we are.  We see them for what we need. A note from my journal before heading to the mountains.  On reflection, I got far more than what I was aiming for.  Trust, faith and a fire in my belly like never before. 

—— April 2023 
There are truths, some worldly, some personal and
I wrote this poem while on navigation watch as swallows sat on the bow; blown there by offshore winds.  We had been at sea for a while and were now only a couple of hours from all the perks that come with being back on land. 

Swallows are very symbo Where the mountain dogs aren’t pacifists. 
Sham Valley - India. Buds and navigation aids.

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