Walking on up the Mountain

I woke up on Sunday morning with the feeling that I needed to move. I still did not want to go to Panama City. I did not want to go to any city. I am a nature boy. I grew up in the sticks of back country USA. I get weird when I am not in the countryside. I begin choosing work over walking. When this happens, I know it is time to split.

So I walked up into the hills and got far, far away from Heredia, San Jose, and all the junk and jive that goes on down below. Once high up a mountain the feces, spite, and pettiness of civilization disappears.

To get to where humanity flourishes you must go up. Up, up, up to the mountains. The higher the altitude the purer the person. I had to refresh myself. Too much time in the cities of Asia and Central America have dulled my senses to the life that flows freely all aroud me. I had become tempered, in a way. Today I struck out to the hills and ended up in the clouds. A cloud forest that reaches high up into the sky above the cities of Costa Rica. I smiled as I climbed, said howdy to all of the smiling ranchers, and summited some volcano, whose name I do not know. But I know that there were clouds on top. And the moss hung down heavy off of the the ever-moist trees, the ground was soft, the rocks slick with some kind of nature slim, and the sky gently rained down a think blanket of misty rain.

I breathed in deep. I felt good. Now it is time to run some romance.

Wade from Vagabond Journey.com
Barva, Costa Rica
February 18, 2008