//------------------------------//
// Day 4 
// Story: The Winding Northward Road 
// by Rambling Writer 
//------------------------------//

Well, whaddya know.  I say I’m not going to write if something interesting doesn’t happen, and something interesting happens.  I made it to the foothills of the Macintosh Hills (and that sounds really redundant but it’s not).

They come up on you fast; one moment, they look like they’re miles away, the next, you’re suddenly climbing up small cliffs and ledges.  The vegetation’s changed, too; a bit greener, more varied, some trees, longer grass, that sort of thing.  I’ve been following a stream for the last few miles, but it’s not just that.  I can feel the air cooling down as I climb higher; the nights are going to get really chilly.

Wondering if I should go around them.  I’ve heard air can get thinner in the mountains, so I might not be able to get all the way up.  Going around would be easier, but it would also add at least a week to my trip.  There’s no time crunch, but it’d look like more of the same, and I want quality over quantity.

Actually, you know what?  I got it.  I WON’T go around.  Why?  Because I just came up with a philosophy for this trip: if it makes for a good story, do it.  And you know what I don’t want to say when I’m talking about this?  “And I reached the Macintosh Hills, and I could’ve gone over them, but I wussed out and took the safe route around them.”  Nope.  Definitely not.  That’d go against the entire philosophy of doing this in the first place.

This is either a brilliant idea or a terrible one.

Since I’m higher up, I can make out the lights of Lareindo in the distance tonight.  Not much more than specks; can’t make out any landmarks or anything.  Should probably be disquieting, but I’m actually thrilled; I’m looking at my home in a way I’ve never seen it before, I’m well and truly on my journey now.  Don’t want to turn back now, not in the slightest.

Finding camp was a bit harder -- lots of slopes -- but I managed to find a decent-sized, decently-flat space to pitch my tent.  I’m getting better at it; now it only collapses two times instead of four or five before I’m happy with it.  Right near the stream I was following, too, so that’s nice.

And now, haikus.

Mountains raising rising high;
A stairway to heaven
Earthen stairway to heaven
Crowned with pearly clouds.

Hey, that was actually almost good almost the first time!

P.S.: I’m expecting the vegetation to slowly get denser and the land to get steeper and the air to get colder tomorrow.  If that’s all that happens, I’m not writing.