The Winding Northward Road

by Rambling Writer

Day 4

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.

Comments

[Meta Four]

A lot of authors, when writing an epistolary story, use struck-out words as a cheap way to convey what the character is really thinking (as if writing were as spontaneous and irrevocable as speaking). So it's really refreshing to see an in-character journal where strike-outs in a context that actually makes sense.