Struck with wanderlust, a mare travels to the Crystal Empire and back.
Hayfever's lived in southern Equestria her whole life, never going far from the town in which she was born. But one day, during her midlife crisis, she decides to get out and see the world, traveling to the Crystal Empire alone and on foot. Her journey will take her all across Equestria, opening her eyes to the land she lives in. As she travels, she records her day-to-day adventures in her journal, slowly compiling a travelogue of all sides of Equestria, of big cities and secluded villages, of mountain peaks and river valleys, of ponies friendly and hostile. This is her journal. These are her tales.
Enclosed are excerpts from the journals of Hayfever. A middle-aged Earth pony, Hayfever lived in Lareindo, one of the southernmost settlements of Equestria. Some time after Tirek’s attempted takeover of Equestria, Hayfever had a midlife crisis, possibly brought on by Equestria’s collective brush with death or enslavement through Tirek. Hayfever had lived in Lareindo all her life and abruptly realized that she’d never even been that far from Lareindo. This was not caused by discontent at home; by all accounts, including her own, her single life in Lareindo was one of contentment and stability, if characterized by a lack of significant happenings.
This lack of outside experience initiated intense feelings of wanderlust, and Hayfever decided that she’d travel, on her own and on foot, to the Crystal Empire. (She was well aware of how dangerous this would be, particularly given her own inexperience in travelling, but was not to be dissuaded by her friends or acquaintances.) This trip would last months and take her along a meandering road across Equestria, from border to border and almost coast to coast, from deserts to snowy plains to forests to cities to mountaintops. Along the way, she recorded her experiences in her journal, punctuated day-to-day with Hayfever’s attempts at various forms of poetry.
Upon her return home, Hayfever showed her journal entries to a few friends, who responded favorably. On their suggestion, she showed them to a few publishing groups. One of them accepted her offer, and her journal was released as The Winding Northward Road. Editing was minimal; at Hayfever’s request, even her own misspellings and crossed-out mistakes were included.
Hayfever still lives in Lareindo. She has not written another book, and although she still goes traveling from time to time, she claims her urge to wander has been largely sated. However, she still writes poetry in her spare time.
I’m leaving tomorrow. Everything’s all set; I’ve got my tent, my sleeping bag, money, medical supplies, and a few miscellaneous tools that I may or may not need. Not packing food; I’ll live off the land (hopefully I’ll be able to find enough stuff to eat).
Still wondering if this is a good idea. I’ve never gone for so much as a long walk before, and now I’m going all the way to the Crystal Empire? Ten bits says I’m going to chicken out halfway there and take the train back. Well, actually, halfway there might be stretching it a bit.
But still, I’m going to try it. I can’t just sit here on my rump for the rest of my life without seeing something of Equestria outside of pictures. Nobody should. Lareindo’s fine and all, but it’s all I’ve known my whole life. I need a change of scenery for a little while. I need to get out, see the world before I get too old. Don’t think I’ll be one of those healthy old types, either, that can climb Mt. McKinskey no problem. I’ll be one of those that sits around all day. But with luck, I’ll be one of those types that sits around all day while talking about cool stuff that happened to me when I wasn’t an old coot.
So here I go. An inexperienced pony trekking all across Equestria just because I’m a bit bored with home and want to go for a bit of a walk. This can only end well.
No, really, BIG. Really, REALLY big. I mean, DANG. The mountains in the distance, the Macintosh Hills that I’ve seen all my life? I thought I’d reach them by evening, but they don’t seem any closer. Meanwhile, I take a look back over my shoulder, and Lareindo is almost completely lost in the haze of the scrubland. I haven’t moved while moving farther than I have in my entire life.
But that’s part of the adventure. That’s why I headed out in the first place. If I’m going to just sit in one place for the rest of my life, I should at least have stories to tell and eventually impress my grandkids with. “When I was your age, we’d WALK to the Crystal Empire. And by gum, we LIKED it that way!”
Anyway, so far the journey’s been… eh. To be expected, I suppose, but it’s still kinda disappointing. Walked, saw shrubs, walked, saw shrubs, rinse and repeat ad nauseumnauseam nauseum. Hot, but not too bad, and what isn’t this area this time of year? Could use some more cloud cover. Looked pretty at first, but it’s beginning to wear.
Not a lot of ponies on the road once I got a good distance from Lareindo. Seems like most of them take the train. Can’t say I blame them; there’s not a lot of places out here for them to stay otherwise. Everypony I did see had some kind of tent. Maybe they’re backpackers, too? Didn’t talk to any, but exchanged friendly nods.
Speaking of tents, I hope mine’s good. Should’ve tested it first, but oh well. Began wandering off the road once it got dark, found a good place to camp. Spring for water, which also meant slightly healthier plants for dinner. Don’t taste that bad, actually; a little tart, but in a good way, like they’ve got a mild bite to them. Ate a good amount. Setting up camp was sloppy, but the tent looks fine, and I think I’ll do alright as long as no pegasus out here decides to kick up a windstorm in the middle of the night.
Under the stars right now, writing by lantern light. Beautiful’s the only way to describe it. Simply stunning. Never been far enough outside Lareindo this late to see the stars like this (some of them actually have colors, not just white), and I’m surprised at how much I can see. Moon’s full, so that helps a lot, but I can still see enough to walk by, if I wanted. Luna sure does a good job with the nights.
Night was cooler than I expected, but my sleeping bag worked just fine. Woke up just in time to see the sunrise. Sky was practically glowing, the sun was so bright. Wonder if Celestia’s ever looked at the sunrise herself.
Spent almost half an hour packing up. Couldn’t remember how to get the tent back in its bag, didn’t want to look at the directions. Eventually just stuffed it in, but it looks bad. I’ll take a look at the directions tomorrow.
Pretty much the same as was yesterday; lots of scrub, few ponies, mountains don’t look any closer. Saw an interesting-looking rock formation that looked like a top-down view of the sun and moon; may have been carved.
Couldn’t find water tonight, but I filled up my canteen yesterday, so I’m good on that front. Plants a bit stringier, but taste the same. Tent went up a bit faster, looked a bit better.
Had a thought. I’m trying to broaden my experiences, right? Maybe I should do the same with my mind. I’ll try writing poems or something at the end of every day. Those 5-7-5 syllable ones, haikus, at least to start. Those are usually nature-focused.
Opening my mind,
I’m trying out a new art form.
I hope I don’t suck.
Hey, no one said MINE have to be. Seriously, though, that was just a start and I got lucky. Going for a better one.
With my tent on my back
My tent on my back,
Supplies on my back,
And my journey open before m
The road open before me:
My journey’s looking
My expectations ar
Great expectations.
Okay, this is harder than I thought. Still, not that bad for a first try, I don’t think. (The previous one doesn’t count.)
Okay, screw it. I said I’d write something in this journal every day, but so far, I can’t do it. More of the same, except the mountains are a bit closer. I’ll only write again when something interesting happens.
Might as well keep broadening my mind, though. Trying some more haikus.
Nothing bu
Not a thing but scrub
As far as the eye can see;
Endless rolling plains.
Bleh. Not that great. Too simple. Trying something else.
Traveling through limbo
Going through limbo
Of endless sc
Of infinite scrub and sand,
I keep pressing onw
I press onwar
I slowly press on.
Better. I can sleep on that. I wish I had a better word than “scrub”, though.
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.
Spent yesterday going through denser and denser foliage, like I had the day before (hence the lack of an entry yesterday). Today, noticed a mountain pass and aimed for it. Don’t know if air’s getting thinner, but definitely feeling slightly light-headed. Might need to go sleep a bit earlier.
Reached pass just after noon. Found some ruins not too far in; looked like an old guard post of some kind. No walls spanning pass to prevent passage, not military. Toll booth? Way station? Dunno. Not in that bad of shape; most walls and roofs still standing. Could’ve made nice shelter for night, but it was too early, and I wanted to keep going.
Dug around a bit. Not much left, very overgrown. No leftover tools or anything. Not even furniture. Picked clean or taken when outpost abandoned? The latter, I think.
While I was picking through it, heard somepony outside. I poked my head out and nearly got it taken off by a magic blast to the face. There was a unicorn on the outside, and she looked furious. Also dirty and disheveled, but mostly furious. She kept going on about this was HER land, and no one else was allowed on it. Every now and then, she’d try to hit me with magic again just to make me keep my head down.
When she took a breath, I yelled out that I didn’t know this was her land, I was just passing through, and if she’d like to stop trying to kill me, I’d be on my way in a heartbeat. She tried to fry me one last time, then gave me sixty seconds. She started counting down immediately, which wasn’t all that fair, but oh well.
I took the opportunity and continued down the pass. She didn’t try to kill me again, but kept glaring daggers at me until I was out of sight (at about 12 seconds or so). If she’s so protective of the place, why doesn’t she just stick up a sign? “Dudes, don’t stay here. My land. Get your own and get out of here. Srsly.” I didn’t even see a metaphorical sign, like manticore skulls stuck on pikes across the road.
Are there manticores out here? Great, I went and made myself scared.
On the other side of the pass, well and truly out of sight of Lareindo now. Found worn-down path; largely heading down. Don’t see another set of ruins yet; I thought there’d be another on this side of the pass. Maybe I just haven’t reached them yet.
Big desert to the north; very spread out. Looks sparser than the land around Lareindo. But I can see a change in the land to the northeast; maybe there’s more vegetation there. If I have trouble getting enough to eat, I’ll head that way. And hope I’m actually right.
Some ponies just
Some ponies shouldn’t
Be with others much.
Be with others that much. Who?
Very crazy mares.
Mountains towering
on either side, I feel like
a nut between teeth.
I need to work on my imagery. Couldn’t come up with anything good for the last line of the second one.
Met someone today who didn’t want to kill me. I was continuing down the pass (definitely no second set of ruins) when someone up ahead noticed me and called out. A pegasus named Silky Breeze. Asked me if I wanted to talk, and said, sure, why not?
She asked what I was doing out here. I told her, and she was impressed. Said not a lot of ponies would try something like that. When I asked her if I was determined or stupid, she laughed and said that there’s not a lot of difference sometimes, that determination is just stupidity with a positive spin. Um, thanks?
I asked her about the unicorn from yesterday. Breeze said the unicorn sticks to her ground and doesn’t come through the pass, while Breeze sticks to her ground and doesn’t go through the pass. She doesn’t know her at all, besides the fact that she’s there. Doesn’t want to know her, either; that reduces the chance of magic missile to the face considerably.
We walked down the pass together, and she started talking about herself. She helps with the weather in this area. Says she’s a “transitional weathermare” or something; when we get environs that meet, like these mountains and that desert, it takes a little bit of weather finaggling finagling to make sure they don’t clash. Like, clouds come down from the mountains with more water than usual, so if she doesn’t knock the rain out early, it could drift into the desert and ruin the ecosystem. She’s not alone out here, but I didn’t meet anyone else. She soon left me when she had to go back to her home base or wherever while I stayed on the path. She said that I should expect some rain tonight, and that I was welcome to stay at her place, but I declined. Don’t feel comfortable sleeping in strangers’ homes yet.
Trees and plants getting thinner and less tasty; I’m heading out of the foothills. Feels like it’ll be hotter than Lareindo already. No sand yet, but there’s less shelter from the sun. Still some streams; I should stock up on water tomorrow.
Put up my tent with no collapsing! Hopefully its claim of waterproofing is actually true. Don’t want to be sleeping in a little river tonight.
Good news: tent is indeed very waterproofed. It rained and I was still dry all night last night. Bad news: tent is not soundproofed in the slightest. I constantly heard the rain pattering softly on the tent outside, and it was hours before I finally got to sleep.
But I suppose I’d rather have dry and noisy to wet and silent. Sleeping in a wet bed would be terrible.
The rain had stopped by the time I woke up. I was worried that I’d have to pack the tent up damp, but it was completely dry. Didn’t know if it dried naturally or due to water-repelling spells; poured some water from my canteen on it. Dried up way too fast to be natural. Good to know these things.
Almost completely into the desert. Sand gets hot during the day, makes it a little difficult to walk. But the sun only went down a few minutes ago and the land’s already cooling off. Guess the desert doesn’t hold its heat. Not worried about cold; my sleeping bag’s kept me plenty warm so far.
Plants are better than I expected. Not great, but they have a lot of water in them. Juicy. Didn’t actually drink at all today, got all my water from plants. I’ll try to get as much of my water from plants as I can. Should try as many different kinds of plants as possible to get the most water from them with the least work. For starters, I’ve seen some tiny little cactuses cacti around. They look like balls, barely the size of my hoof. I’ll try one tomorrow.
The desert again.
Is it any di
Any different from before?
Have to wait and see.
You know, that might not be a proper haiku, depending on how you pronounce “different”: is it diff-rent or diff-er-ent? I went with the first here. I’ll have to look that up later.
I’ll say it again, just to be absolutely sure of myself: DON’T EAT THE CACTI. SERIOUSLY.
It was stupid in the first place, eating any random plant that I can find. But why’d I immediately go for the one that screws you up?
I tried one a bit of a ways into my walk. Ate the whole thing in a few bites, and it was decently watery. A few hours later, I felt ready to throw up, I was cold and shivering, yet I was sweating at the same time, and I was feeling a bit numb.
Then things got WEIRD.
I started just not caring about how I was feeling or the trip I was on and began going whichever way I felt like, which changed every few seconds. Colors were weird, getting stronger and more intense. I felt weightless, like I could jump to the moon. And for some reason, I actually tried it a few times (yes, even though it was day). When I wasn’t doing that, I think I spent an hour staring at a rock marveling at how its dark blue color was almost exactly except not really in the slightest like Luna’s coat. It felt like it lasted for days, but based on the sun, it was “only” about eight or nine hours. And throughout the whole thing, I felt like I had just won the lottery and absolutely nothing could go wrong.
Then it wore off and I puked. I puked a lot.
So now I don’t know where I am in relation to where I was this morning, I feel terrible, and whatever was in there is probably doing terrible things to my insides and I’m going to die in a few days.
All because I ate a cactus.
Don’t eat the cacti.
They totally mess you up.
Don’t eat the cacti.
Seriously, don’t.
It’s the worst kind of crazy.
YOU WILL REGRET IT.
Am I seriously getting these things right on the first try, now?
Anyways, getting to non-cactus things: cold night, warm sleeping bag. Feel really hungry, so I’ll probably forage around a bit once I’m done writing here (not eating the cacti). Probably sticking to shrubs for now. Tent up as best I can make it. The night’s already so chilly it’s hard for me to write all this down. But I’m managing, obviously.
I’m still in the desert, but I can make out the lights of a town on the horizon. I’ll head that way. If I die, at least they’ll know what to do with my body. Can’t tell how far away they are, but it looks like three or four days.
Dodge Junction was closer than I thought, only two days away; just arrived a little while before sundown. But I don’t think I’m dying after all. I feel a lot better, good enough to travel, but I’m wussing out and staying in an inn tonight. It wasn’t that bad, but for now, screw the desert. Screw it all: screw the sand, screw the hot days, screw the cold nights, and, most of all, screw the cacti that screw with your head.
Did some rambling, and it turns out Dodge Junction is where Jubilee Cherries come from. Cherry Hill Ranch, run by one Cherry Jubilee. Didn’t meet her, but she’s impossible to miss, since the ranch is the town’s biggest business. Might be getting near the end of the desert; the plants look a bit stronger here and more numerous here than a day or so out. I’ve had Jubilee Cherries before, and almost splurged on a carton, but convinced myself not to; I’m spending money on this hotel already, and I want the bits I have to last as long as possible before I need to take some from a bank.
It might just be me, but it seems like sweet hats are obligatory out here. Everypony I’ve seen is wearing some variation on the cowcolt hat. They probably have different names, but the only one that comes to mind for me is a Stetson. Anyway, there are lots of sweet hats out here, and I’m considering buying one, if I can find it for relatively cheap. I mean, LOOK at them.
Hats. Hats everywhere.
Those glorious fabric crowns
Call to m
Call out to my head.
Been around the whole town; Dodge Junction isn’t that large. Got everything you need, but not a whole lot else. Besides cherries. Cherry Hill Ranch is really big here; there’s even a restaurant devoted to cherries. I like cherries, but not THAT much. Seems to be doing fine, though. I browsed through the general store, but I don’t need anything else just yet. I’ll probably need things later, but I can’t tell what I’ll lose or break. Went to a doctor, got a quick appointment to talk about the cactus. She said not to worry, I’m not going to die, just don’t eat them again. Yeah, like I’m going to do THAT.
Found an inn for a decent price. Bed’s pretty comfy and room’s not drafty. Nothing particularly special, but I didn’t pay for special. Hopefully I’ll remember to get up on time tomorrow.
Got an interesting opportunity today and took it. Left Dodge Junction early (no sweet hat, sad to say), and was heading northward when a stagecoach train (yes, train, I’ll get to that) pulled up next to me. Coachmaster was an Earth pony named Royal Ann. Asked me where I was going. When I said the Crystal Empire, she asked if I wanted to ride to Baltimare; she worked for Cherry Hill Ranch and was taking a shipment of cherries to there and various places in between. When I said no thanks, I didn’t want to add to the load of the ponies pulling it, a stallion suggested I tag-team with them. When one of them got tired, I’d switch out with them, and the one that rested would switch out with the next tired one, and so on. We’d keep a faster average pace, and we’d reach Baltimare faster.
I liked the idea, but said I didn’t know how to pull in tandem with other ponies in a stagecoach. The stallion scoffed and said I just needed to keep pace. I decided, sure, I’ll do that. When we switched the first time, turns out it is just that easy. It’s a bit hard to turn, but it’s the same for everyone else, so I can’t complain that much.
So now I’m part of a stagecoach team. Don’t know how I feel about it; it’s work, but not as hard I thought it’d be. You don’t gallop most of the way, either, not like in the books. You usually keep up a brisk trot, or a canter at the fastest. You keep moving longer that way. I got tired the fastest, obviously, but I think I’m doing all right. Also: stagecoach train. There are actually three coaches hooked up in a row, one after the other. Ann says we’ll drop two of them off at places before we reach Baltimare as we deliver cherries, and the team’ll pick them up as they head back.
We moved at a faster pace than I usually travel; Dodge Junction and the bulk of the desert are already out of sight, and we’re getting into more woody areas. Camping out not too far from the road. Each pony’s got their own tent, but we all sat around the campfire together for dinner, so it’s not icey-aloney. Besides Ann, there’s three stallions and another mare in the group: respectively, Montmorency (he’s the one who spoke up the first time), Morello, Smokey Dun, and Nutberry. All were rather interested in my trip. I felt silly telling them why I was going, but Morello said that was as good a reason as any. Nutberry offered a spare map of the area, which I took just in case. Doesn’t show much south of Dodge Junction or north of Fillydelphia, but it’s real detailed within those bounds.
Nutberry pointed out the route we were taking, said it was normally five or six days, but if we keep up this pace, we should do it in maybe four. Passing through eight small towns before we reach Baltimare, but we’re also heading a bit close to the Hayseed Swamps for my liking. Nutberry says I shouldn’t worry, they’ve done that route plenty of times before, but I still don’t like it. It’s a swamp, and nothing I’ve read about swamps is good.
Hooked up in
Hooked to a stagecoach,
You learn to work together
Or it all goes bad.
Or it goes badly.
Unexp
Finding, on the road,
Unexpected company
Is a nice surprise.
Hmm. I’m crossing out lines based on whether or not they sound nice. I’m getting into this.
Yay! Day 13 is over and nothing bad or unlucky happened!
It was pretty uneventful, actually. We trotted along, stopped at a small town, dropped off some crates of cherries and got some bits in return, continued on, rinse and repeat two more times. Well, the third time we also dropped off the last first end stagecoach, and WOW did that make a difference. I feel like I’m twice as strong as I was, and I know I was going for longer than I did before. Not sore from yesterday’s running, surprisingly enough. I thought I’d wake up unable to move my legs, but they don’t feel too bad. Maybe all the walking I’ve done so far has made me stronger or more adjusted to walking? Hmm.
At least nothing but trotting provides plenty of opportunities for talking. Apparently, Jubilee started Cherry Hill Ranch herself with just a few trees when she was barely out of school and grew it to what it is today. At least, that’s what Ann says; Dun suspects she inherited it from an old relative and the “started it herself” thing is just a tall tale. He still says she started running it at the same age, though, and still enlarged it herself, so he’s not knocking her business acumen in the slightest, just a mild disagreement on its origins.
Montmorency Monty gave me a few tips on eating plants in the wilderness, and recommended I pick up a book on the subject in Baltimare, if only to avoid another cactus incident (yes, I told them about that; they tried not to laugh, but I could see them almost failing, but oh well). But he also said that, while plants are USUALLY safe, if I’m not sure about it, I shouldn’t eat it. It’s not like there isn’t plenty of grass around.
Speaking of which, we’ve completely left the desert behind and are in a light forest. Ann says this is good, we should reach Baltimare ahead of their usual schedule (basically, what Nutberry said yesterday). To celebrate, they broke out what would be their extra provisions, some tools, and made what they called “hobo pies”; take two slices of bread, stick whatever the heck you want between them, and roast them over the fire in a special frier. Tried one with some cheese and vegetables; didn’t burn it, and tasted better than I expected. Might pick up some food-food in Baltimare, too, if only to make hobo pies of my own. Very full tonight.
Nights here are… not loud or noisy, but surprisingly sound-y (is that a word?). Lots of animals making noise, especially owls. Can’t see any, though; they must be good at hiding. I hope one of them doesn’t try to crawl into my tent in the night. (I’ll be able to sleep; there’s not too much noise for that.)
Oh, sure. Nothing bad happened on the day of the unlucky number, but bad stuff happens on the day of the lucky number times 2.
Well, it’s not that bad. Everything’s fixed now and we didn’t lose too much time. But I KNEW something bad was going to happen in the Hayseed Swamps. Should’ve said, “I told you so.” to Nutberry.
Was about noon, just after we entered the border of the swamps. The second coach (that’s the one on the end) was almost empty, and we’d drop it off at the next town; through the swamp was just the fastest route. Everyone was confident that we’d have a quick trip, and they knew what was supposed to be a hard road.
But the ground didn’t feel right, and when Ann checked the wheels, they were sinking into the mud slightly. We’d lost the road somehow. (When we got to the village, we learned that a new weather pegasus had made it rain where it wasn’t supposed to rain and the start of the swamp road had been washed over.) Ann told us to wait for a little while she went around to find harder ground, and, well, you can imagine what happened. Not moving, we started sinking into the mud.
She was only gone a few minutes, but we were struggling against the mud before she was back. It didn’t suck us down, but it was hard to pull up and get good footing, especially with four of us strapped to the coach hitch. The first coach, the one with all the cherries, was soon up to its axles, while the other wasn’t too bad. Morello, who was the one resting at the moment, tried to pull us out all at once, but quickly gave up and had us unhitch; it was easier that way. Monty was out when Ann got back, and she helped us all get out soon after.
The coaches were a bigger problem; they had all our goods and were stuck a lot more than us. We got the second one to the road after ten minutes of digging and pulling, but the first one was a lot harder. It was so deep we could barely get it up. I suggested using a dead tree for a lever to try to get under it, but I forgot we didn’t have a good place to put a fulcrum. Still, the basic idea worked fine, although we used the tree we found more like a crowbar than a lever. It took over an hour, but we got it out. Neither coach was too damaged, thankfully. Morello said one of the wheels on the first one might be a bit warped, but it’d be fine until we reached Baltimare. We moved extra fast in the afternoon to make up for lost time (luckily dropping off the second coach in the meantime), and now I’m all tired out. I’m having trouble staying awake enough to write this. Not just me, either; everyone just ate their dinner and went to sleep. This journal’s the only reason I’m not asleep, too.
Checked my map, tomorrow looks pretty uneventful. Might not write anything.
[Editor’s note: the following is hastily, densely, and haphazardly scribbled in small letters before the start of the next entry.]
Crap forgot to write a poem for last time Are Forgetful minds Busy ones? Did lots of work, Forgot to haiku.
Reached Baltimare mid-evening today. The ponies at the supermarket were pleased to get their cherries ahead of time and supposedly paid nicely. I actually got some of the money myself; I almost turned it down, saying I didn’t work for Cherry Hill Ranch and volunteered and didn’t deserve any money, but hey, bits are bits. Didn’t try to haggle the amount, but it seemed good.
Didn’t stay around to see Baltimare; I’ll do that at the Crystal Empire. Said my goodbyes to the coach team. They said thanks, and I should see them if I stop in Dodge Junction again sometime. Unlikely, but we’ll see. I used the remaining sunlight to leave Baltimare following some train tracks. Camping out far enough away from them that the trains won’t make too much noise. Baltimare’s still bright, though; might find a place with better cover.
Looking at Nutberry’s map (she let me keep it), wondering where I should go next. Fillydelphia’s almost directly north of here, kind of northeast , and I want to get all the way north eventually, but there’s so many other places I could go. Baltimare’s almost a hub of sorts. Plenty of nearby towns and landmarks to the north. Could go to Plymouth, for example.
Actually, no. I won’t go to Fillydelphia. Not just that, I’ll try to stay away from cities if it’s reasonable. There’s a place not too far from here (relatively speaking) on my map called “Rambling Rock Ridge”. It’s a lot more more west than north, but I’m in no hurry. Looks to be fairly simple; follow the train tracks for a few days, keeping heading west when they turn north at Maretinsburg. Shouldn’t be too hard. (And now that I’ve said that…)
According to the map, there’s a town called Accident near here. Why would you name a town Accident? Was the town itself an accident? How do you “accidentally” found a town? Maybe I’ll stop there, just to find out.
Decided not to get food or hobo pie makers when leaving Baltimare, but I’m missing them already. Also forgot how lonely it could get out here. Nopony else to talk to seems a lot more empty all of a sudden. Did I get that used to Ann and the rest? Maybe I SHOULD consider visiting them in Dodge Junction when it’s all said and done.
Don’t actually have anything to say; last two days have been nothing but forest, forest, forest, and train tracks. Not stopping at any towns. No big events. Rambling Rock’s still a day or so away. Just writing some more haikus to keep myself mentally active.
Unused poem skills?
Can’t let them rust; must use them.
Exercise th
Don’t waste your talents.
Is it “pohm” or “po-em”? I hope it’s the latter, or that really isn’t a haiku.
Oh, and I’ve got tent-setting-up and tent-taking-down down to a science. I get take it out quickly and, when it’s up, it’s strong and stable. When I take it down, I know how to fold it to get it in its bag the best. Feels good.
Arrived at Rambling Rock Ridge at noon. Small canyon, bare walls, a bit more than just a “ridge”, although one side was a lot taller and steeper than the other. Maybe it’s named for that imbalance? Thought there’d be a river running through the bottom, to carve it out, but climbed down and didn’t see anything, not even a small creek. Wonder what could’ve caused something like this, or if it’s even natural; could’ve been carved by magic blasts or something. But they’d need to be big blasts, like maybe something one of the Princesses would be able to do… I dunno. Look into it later, maybe.
Looks to be a minor tourist destination; there was a platform overlooking a good spot on the ridge (I’m calling the taller side the “ridge”), but not much else in the way of construction. Dirt path leading to there from a nearby town. Maybe four or five ponies there. No signs saying “don’t go down into the canyon” or anything, but it looked like I was the only one climbing down. Then again, there wasn’t much down there that wasn’t up top.
One of the tourists said the place was the site of a major battle during the Second Pony-Griffon War, where Admiral Neighson smashed General Grayfeather’s griffon forces with a cunning pincer movement. When I pointed out there wasn’t a Second Pony-Griffon War, or Admiral Neighson, or General Grayfeather, she just scoffed and said it was VERY well covered up. I shot a Look at another tourist and knew she was thinking the same thing I was: cuckoo, cuckoo.
I decided to not also point out that admiral is a naval rank, not a terrestrial one. And that it’d need to be a VERY cunning pincer movement to trap griffons, since they can, y’know, FLY. And that if they were stupid enough to get caught in the canyon, it was probably more to do with the ineptitude of the griffon’s commanders than whoever “Neighson” was. Sheesh, I barely even know anything about the military and I know all this!
Stayed at Rambling Rock Ridge for an hour or so, then started heading north. North-northeast, to be precise. Heading to… Foal Mountain, I think. The map cuts out there, so it’s hard to tell. Can see it in the distance; guessing two or three days of travel. From what I can see, everything between there and here looks to be the same kind of land: some grassland, mostly forest. Shouldn’t be too hard. (And now that I’ve said that…) Based on the map, there should be a river I can follow for easy water.
Got into Foal Mountain’s foothills. Can already tell I’m moving faster than I did at the beginning of the trip; it took me a while to get through to the Macintosh Hills proper, but it looks like I’m almost to the slope-slopes of Foal Mountain. It looks smaller than the Macintosh Hills, so that might have something to do with it (but that might just be me). It’s tall (I can see the clouds getting caught on the peak), but it’s also a bit of a loner. There are smaller mountains in its range, but they don’t come close to it.
Did indeed find a stream. Followed it easily. Water’s cold, but that’s not that bad. Prefer cold water to no water. Heard a lot of wildlife in the forest, but barely saw any. Maybe a fox or two and a ferret, but I could’ve been seeing things. No real change in the scenery, aside from one time the treeline stopped dead because of farmland. Didn’t go on the farm, but stayed inside the woods. Haven’t seen another pony since I left Rambling Rock Ridge.
Over three weeks in, I’m honestly surprised I’m still doing this. Haven’t considered turning back once (except for after I ate the cacti, but that was a special case and doesn’t count). Definitely a good thing for me; I feel healthier, am thinking more, and am more fit. I’m even writing poetry! (It’s not very good, but I’m still writing it.) Has anyone else ever felt this way? Probably. I should look into some books on this, see if it’s true. Travelogs. (Is that how you spell it? No, travelogues.) Maybe write one myself.
Going to climb up Foal Mountain at least a little tomorrow. Can’t decide whether I’ll summit it or go around. Have to sleep on it.
Spire to the skies,
Crowned with a ri
Crowned by lofty ring of clouds,
Standing triumphant.
I really hope it’s spi-er and not spaihr. Also, what happened that made it “triumphant”? Dagnabbit.
Didn’t go as far as I could have. Why? Because I would’ve reached the summit far too late in the day.
Yes, I’m going all the way up. Why not? I said that if it made a good story, I’d do it. Feeling fine so far; shouldn’t have much of a problem getting to the top. I’m currently camped out just below the tree line; getting to the summit won’t take much more than a few hours from here. Then I can spend most of tomorrow getting down. Food might be a problem -- not much plants grow above the tree line -- but I’ll just be sure to eat a big breakfast before heading out.
I’m really excited for this. Foal Mountain is nowhere near the tallest mountain in Equestria, but it’s still tall. And if I get to the top, I’ll have done it alone. Not too bad for a first timer. And alone-alone, for that matter; I haven’t seen another pony on the mountain yet. You’d think that there’d be more mountaineers about, but I guess not. Wrong season, maybe? Anyway, there’s nopony around to even give me tips, so I’m surviving by my own wits and the skin of my teeth. Which is probably just as much a sign of my own stupidity as my determination, but oh well. I’m still doing it.
So. Anyway. Been camped out for a few hours now. I’ve been moving so much that being forced to just sit and wait is suddenly a bother. I’ve explored the surrounding area, but there isn’t all that much; just trees and rocks, mostly. Could get a good view if the trees weren’t in the way; guess that’ll have to wait until tomorrow. The stream I was following turned into a spring a while back, and now everything’s bone dry. Cold and windy, too; went above the tree line for a while, and when I came back down, I felt like I was freezing my legs off. But there’s enough trees here to block most of the wind, and my sleeping bag should still keep me warm enough.
The night sky is incredibly beautiful up here. Even more than it was when I first started out. When the clouds don’t block my view (which, fortunately, doesn’t happen that often), I swear the stars are clearer up here, sharper. Like I used to be viewing them through a thick sheet of glass, and now there’s nothing between me and them. And it’s WIDE; the horizon’s a lot lower than on the ground. You’d think it wouldn’t make that much of a difference, but when there’s suddenly a whole lot more sky, you start feeling a bit dizzy. (And not just because of the thin air.)
Well, not quite the WORLD. It’s not THAT tall. But I made it to the top of Foal Mountain!
Set out at my usual time, and around noon, reached a point where I couldn’t go any higher because there wasn’t any higher to go to. Thought it’d be a bit more pointy; the summit’s kind of flat. A little anticlimactic.
But the view. Sweet Celestia, the VIEW. I could see most of Equestria spread out below me. From the edges of the Celestial Sea to the east to Canterlot’s mountain to the west (Canterlot itself is on the other side, so I couldn’t see that), I’ve never been able to see so much at one time. I could even see the Crystal Palace to the north; it was a bit hazy, but the Palace itself is shiny and that poked through the glare. Sadly, I could not see my house from there.
Day was surprisingly clear, too. I thought there’d be a few clouds, but couldn’t see any. My view was pretty much unobstructed. Is the weather synched up everywhere in Equestria? Don’t think so, that’d be inefficient, but you’d think I’d at least see the shadow of a rainstorm or something. Maybe I just got lucky.
Started heading down after about half an hour. Beautiful, but not much else. Getting into warmer areas again, and thank heavens, because it is COLD up there. Was following a stream, quickly turned into a river. Not exactly wide, but very fast.
Less than an hour ago, I almost went over a cliff when I wasn’t paying much attention. River led straight to it and became a waterfall. The cliff was very steep, almost vertical. Took a short hike away from the waterfall to find a place that was a bit less steep. Tried climbing down it there, but partway down, I slipped and fell a good fifteen feet. Hurt a lot; I’m still sore from it. Tested that nothing was broken (it wasn’t), then trotted back to the river. Turns out, I wasn’t at the bottom of the waterfall just yet; the waterfall was moving so fast it’d carved out a little gorge through my little shelf. I followed the gorge a short ways, but quickly came upon the rest of the drop. Still a good distance down to wider ground.
Since I was still aching from my fall down the cliff, I decided to just camp out here, since there’s not much time left in the day anyway. It’s getting dark as I write this, but only because the mountains are blocking the sunset. Wonder what it’d be like to live in a place that’s so deep it barely gets any light at all. Of course, why would you live there in the first place? Probably not for the view.
Top of the worl
At the world’s to summit,
Everything below y
All the places below you
Look like th
Seem to be a map. (Of course they do, that’s the point of maps.)
Spread out like water.
Feh. All right, but I’m not really feeling it. (Also, I hope it’s ev-ree-thing and not ev-er-ee-thing, or else I just rewrote a line for nothing.) It’ll do for tonight, but only because I feel like I’ve hit a creative brick wall.
Woke up, followed the gorge back to the cliff at the edge of the shelf to try and climb down. It’s a good forty feet down, so if I tried jumping, I’d either die instantly or break a few legs and die of starvation. Yeah, no. Cliff was too steep where I was, so I started following it away from the gorge. But then I soon reached the upper cliff, the one I’d climbed down, and my heart started dropping. I followed that cliff back to the gorge and couldn’t find a place where I could climb up. I briefly considered jumping over the gorge, but it’s way too wide all along its length.
So now I’m stuck on a shelf bounded by a cliff that’s too steep to climb down, another that’s too steep to climb up, and a gorge that’s too wide to jump across.
Damn.
I searched around the shelf for something I could use, but there’s not much, mostly trees and rather small rocks. I looked in my pack to see if there was something I forgot, and I didn’t have rope. How did I forget to pack ROPE? Tried to see if my tent ropes could get me down, but they’re too short, I don't trust my own knots, and I’m not sure the ropes themselves could support my weight anyhow. I tried calling out plenty of times, but nopony's around to answer me. Might need to see if I can knock down a tree or two and use that for something.
At least I won’t die for a while. There’s plenty of grass and flowers and stuff for me to eat. I can get water from the waterfall. Still, I don’t want to live here, so I’ve got to find a way down soon. Although I suppose if I pace at the edge enough, EVENTUALLY it’ll get worn down to nothing. Ha ha, no.
Already feel restless, not being able to go anywhere. Shelf’s a decent size, it takes about 20 minutes to talk from one end to the other, but still small compared to just being able to walk in a straight line for hours on end. If I don’t die, I feel like I’ll go crazy.
Success! I made it off the shelf and am on my way again.
It happened while I was trying to knock over some trees to try to bridge the gorge or something. I was bucking some, but they weren’t budging. Then one of them sounded a bit odd. I tapped it, listening closely, and it sounded hollow. If it’s hollow, it should be dead, right? So I started digging around and under it, trying to uproot it.
It took most of the day, but I finally managed to get it down early afternoon. The taproot was the biggest problem, but the tree must’ve been dead for so long that it was relatively thin. So once I had the tree down, I dragged it over to the gorge (yes, alone, I’m stronger than I look). It took a little while, but I soon found a place probably narrow enough for me to maybe bridge the gap.
Then came the hard part: getting the tree over the gorge. Alone. (I’m not THAT much stronger.) I tried to lift it and slowly move it horizontally over the ravine, but I knew before I was a quarter of the way over that that wouldn’t work; the tree would overbalance, fall, and drag me down with it. It didn’t change even when I altered my technique.
The idea that worked came to me in a flash, as I was trying to rest from my most recent attempt. I dug basically a small pit near the edge, jammed one end of the tree in there, and used that as an anchor point to stand it up from the other side. Got it standing up straight after a few tries, then tipped it over to the other side.
Worked like a charm. The tree bridged the gap easily (at least five feet to spare on both sides), and it even hit the other side hard enough to get wedged in and be steady as I crossed it. And it was VERY steady, because I tested it five or six times before setting a hoof on there, just to be positively absolutely surely surely sure that it wouldn’t roll out from under me.
Crossing was a bit tricky, the tree was kinda narrow, but I just kept my eyes on the other side and tried not to think about the roiling waters I could fall in. Slipped slightly once, but nothing too bad. Started walking near the edge of the lower cliff as soon as I was across, and found a gentle-ish slope down quickly. Ran down it, and now I’m on the road again. Thank Celestia.
Still following the stream I was following before. Going to be a bit more careful when climbing down cliffs, but it looks like the land’s leveling out and there aren’t any big ones like that anymore. I can only hope; don’t want to get stuck again just after I got out of that. Still plenty of trees, though. The map I had is useless now, so I don’t know where I’m going.
Did a lot of work today; going to sleep deeply tonight.
Thought I’d come across a town or two after leaving Foal Mountain, but nope. Not yet, anyway. Just more trees and some grasslands.
Getting into a surprisingly dense forest. Trees closing in tightly, the canopy blocks out a lot of the sky, and I can hear a lot more animals. It’s pretty dark, even during the day. Kind of ominous.
Haven’t made any more mistakes like I did on Foal Mountain, but I’m left wondering: what would’ve happened if I hadn’t made it off that shelf? Nopony back in Lareindo knows when I’ll be back (mainly because I don’t know when I’ll be back), so if I’d died, they wouldn’t think much of it for… how long? Months, maybe? And when/if they sent out somepony to look for me, they probably wouldn’t find anything, since I was on a random cliff in a random part of Foal Mountain. Didn’t tell anypony where I was going, just said, “Hey, Imma go to the Crystal Empire, be back sometime whenever, see ya!”
I think I need to be more careful about this. I can’t just go blundering off to wherever I feel like. I need to be aware of where I’m going, probably let others know. Of course, I don’t know anyone out here to tell where I’m going, so that’s no help now, but maybe in the future, I should say, “okay, I’m going to go here, here, here, and here” and tell that to somepony before I go anywhere.
Of course, I’ve done well enough so far, and there was no way for me to know that the cliff was ungetoffable at the time, so… No, I still need to be careful.
Wondering if there are dangerous animals here. Hope not, since I’ve already set up camp, but at the very least, it’s not the Everfree. (Which forest IS this?)
Found a village in the middle of this forest, right at sundown. Hollow Shades.
I was pushing through the forest when I found a path. Not paved, but it looked very beaten down. It was heading north, so I figured why not. Kept following it, then suddenly came into a… not-clearing is the best way I can describe it. It was an area with barely any trees, but the trees there were so big, so tall, and so wide that their leaves and branches blocked out the sun anyway. They were BIG, so big you fit at least one house in them, usually more.
How do I know this? Because there WERE houses in them. Most of the buildings in the village were normal on-the-ground stone-and-slate-roof houses, but built on and in the trees were more houses. Hanging from branches, sticking out of the trunks of trees, carved out of the trunks, you name it. The town hall was the inside of a tree that must’ve been at least several hundred feet around. The branches had their own roads, with bridges connecting tree to tree to tree. With the leaves so thick in the air, I almost felt like I was underground. I could, however, see a soft glow through the leaves, the remainder of the sunlight.
There were plenty of ponies up and about, not minding the gloom (well, dark; it wasn’t gloomy, more like the warm darkness just after sunset). At first, no one noticed me as I entered the tree-cavern (?), but after a few moments, as I was reading the “Welcome to Hollow Shades” sign on the path, a pegasus flitted up, lightly poked me in the shoulder, and asked me what I was doing there. It was the curious form of that question, not the aggressive kind, so I just said I’d been traveling through and happened upon it.
The pegasus, introducing herself as Skydale, said that she was happy to meet someone coming to visit, if only accidentally, and asked if I needed a place to stay, since it was almost night. I said sure, and Skydale promptly offered a spare room in her house. She quickly added that she was only offering because there wasn’t a proper inn in the village; it was so isolated that barely anyone came over, so there wasn’t much need for an inn. When the need arose, some pony or another would rent out a room or two in their house, dirt cheap. Here, she was just the one who saw me first.
For some reason, paying money made me feel better about staying in someone’s home, and the price WAS dirt cheap. When we started walking towards one of the giant trees, I had a brief moment of panic that, since Skydale was a pegasus, she’d have a house that I couldn’t get to. But, no, her house was just on the other side of the tree, and I felt silly; she’d be thinking of that.
Skydale also provided dinner. It was good, and there was a blue-y purple-y melon I didn’t recognize. Tasted real good, real sweet; wondered why I hadn’t seen it before. Skydale said it was shadowberry, a rare kind of fruit that only grew in shady places like this. Very expensive, and Hollow Shades’s Shades’ primary export.
Writing in a room with a decent bed. Bare, but that doesn’t matter. There’s a low sound that may or may not be Skydale snoring. Quiet enough that I can live with it. Glad that she offered me a bed so easily.
Still in Hollow Shades; leaving tomorrow, Skydale’s coming with me. During breakfast, she asked where I was going, and when I said the Crystal Empire, she said that she was leaving tomorrow to visit friends. She wondered if I wanted a traveling companion (quickly adding that it was okay if I didn’t). Sure, I said, I’d be willing to wait a day so she could come with me. She was excited about that.
Since I was free that day, she offered to show me where shadowberries are grown; Skydale does work helping keep the “fields” properly irrigated. That sounded like fun, so once we finished breakfast, I followed her down a path deeper into the forest. Very clearly marked, so it’d be easy for me to find my way back to Hollow Shades if I didn’t want to stay out there the whole time.
Don’t know what to call the place where shadowberries grow; it’s not exactly a field, since it’s broken up by trees, but “field” is really the best word. Screw it, it’s a field.
Growing shadowberries is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. It’s not like back home, where you make sure they have good land, good water, good sun, and apply a little Earth pony magic to top it off. Since shadowberries can only grow well in the shade, you’ve got to be careful not to get too much sunlight on them, while also providing enough light for them to actually grow. There was a complicated system where ponies would pull aside branches in the canopy for a very specific length of time to let sunlight through. Some pegasi would sometimes pull in clouds through the branches for water, whether it was a quick spurt of water or extended rain.
Talked a bit with the supervising foremare about shadowberry care. Turned out to be a lot of botany stuff I didn’t understand, but I nodded and went “uh-huh” so she wouldn’t be offended. Watched the process go for I don’t know how long, then headed back to Hollow Shades alone.
Must’ve been about noon by the time I got back; canopy was letting some light through, enough to see easily, but not much more. Missed the sun a little, so I started climbing up a staircase on the outside of the town hall tree. Kept going up, then broke through the canopy rather suddenly. Many of the larger trees kept going up a little bit more, but their branches weren’t as broad, so they couldn’t block the sun as much. Were a few houses out here, as well as some platforms that I guess were for relaxing in the sun; even if you live in Hollow Shades, you probably wouldn’t want to stay out of the sun your whole life.
Stayed up there a little while, chatted with some ponies, then went back down explored Hollow Shades a bit more. Aside from its design, it’s actually not too different from Lareindo or Dodge Junction. It’s got all the amenities, but not much else. Fortunately, some of the much else it DID have was a bookshop; picked up a plant identification book that I really should’ve gotten back in Baltimare but forgot to.
Considering its isolation, I thought Hollow Shades would be very insular, but everypony seems to be at least a little aware of things going on in Equestria proper. And not just because of Tirek; they could usually talk about things well before then. They were usually welcoming of me, not “When are you going to leave?” like I thought they’d be.
Back in Skydale’s house, ready for bed. We’re leaving early tomorrow. Skydale says she knows a way to quickly get through the forest, so she’s leading.
Can’t come up with a topic for haiku, so I’ll just skip it today.
Left Hollow Shades early, already out of the forest. Skydale’s route was very fast indeed. Lots of grasslands and some farms; was a bit hard to find an open area to camp in without knocking over somepony’s crops, but we found a flat area near a pond.
Skydale’s very talkative. As we traveled, she told me a lot about Hollow Shades. For instance, it takes pride in being completely self-sufficient; if all the rest of Equestria were to just vanish, Hollow Shades could still survive for a while, so long as the sun and moon kept moving. Her family moved to Hollow Shades when she was getting into adolecenseadole teenager-dom, and she quickly took to it. She says it’s the best place she’s lived. When I asked her how many OTHER places she’s lived in, she admitted only one, but added Hollow Shades was much better than the other, to the point of it being no contest; Hollow Shades is where she “clicked”, so to speak. I know the feeling, so I gave her that.
Was worried Skydale wouldn’t know the things about traveling I’ve learned. Now I think she knows more than me. She set up her own tent very quickly, stoked the fire better than I can, and knows how to use the sun to gauge which direction we’re going. I have a compass (I’ve been checking it a lot on my journey), but she looks up for a few seconds and says which direction we’re going, down to about 10 degrees of error. That’s VERY accurate, considering there are 360 degrees on a compass. Wonder where she learned it.
Trying to convince Skydale to take a short detour to Neighagara Falls, but she just wants to get to the Crystal Empire ASAP. Must try harder.
Curses. Neighagara is now south of us. Was hoping, given a few days, I could get Skydale to agree to go there, but she was quite resolute in not changing course. Oh well. Maybe next time.
Finally getting into the north; we’re near the tail end of the Crystal Mountains. Can’t yet see the Empire, but I know we’re getting close. Weather’s colder, too; I packed for the daytime cold, but just realized I didn’t pack any blankets or anything for the nights. Why did I forget that? Hope my sleeping bag’s warm enough (it has been so far). It might just be me, but I feel like I’ve been forgetting a lot of important things this trip.
Skydale’s still talking about Hollow Shades; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get her to shut up. She says the town predates Luna’s banishing, and the large trees are the result of the Princesses doing something to them to help found the town. She doesn’t know what they did or why, and when I asked her if that might be hearsay, she said she’s seen the records of the event. She admits they might be forged, but doesn’t know why they WOULD be, although she’s thought on it.
We started speculating why the Princesses were personally involved in the town’s beginnings, but didn’t get very far. We just didn’t know enough about the place. Skydale wondered if the LOCATION of the town mattered at all, since Hollow Shades was kind of in the middle of nowhere, after all. I wondered if the size of the trees mattered at all, since why else would they use magic to make big trees instead of just cutting down trees to make room for a town? We went at it for a while, but couldn’t come up with anything satisfying to us. I said that we were missing something simple and innocuous (was it on a trade route and isn’t any more?), while Skydale said there was -- or maybe still is -- something secret going on that Hollow Shades was founded to cover up.
I’ll admit that while my idea’s more likely, hers is more interesting. I kind of like the idea of a town existing to hide something. Pretty sure Lareindo’s not such a town. Of course, depending on what the “something” is, it could mean terrible things for the inhabitants if it ever gets out. But if Hollow Shades really has been around for over a thousand years, then I doubt there’s much risk of A) something still being around in there that B) could still break out after all this time. Plus, I’m doubting Celestia would deliberately have a bunch of citizens so cluelessly sitting on something dangerous. Maybe the town was founded to cover up something that no longer matters.
No, wait. Stop. Don’t keep speculating. You’ll get nowhere.
Secret beginnings
Of a hidden town in the f
Of a town in the forest,
Hidden from all sight.
Should be getting into the lower reaches of the Crystal Mountains tomorrow.
Staying out of the Crystal Mountains. Skydale thought it’d be easier, and I’m still a bit jumpy from a week ago. Following them through their foothills.
Getting snowy, even though it’s summer. Never seen this much snow before in my life; Cloudsdale usually doesn’t come as far south as Lareindo to distribute snow. Even when it does, it’s usually only a few inches a year, and never all at once. It’s usually spotty, not even like this. Never knew how thick it could be; it falls to the ground all light and fluffy, but walking through it’s like being buried in sand up to your knees. And it’s WET. You walk through it, it melts on your coat, and if there’s too much, you need to dry some of it off before it refreezes. Yes, I found that out personally. Nice to see all the snow yesterday, getting sick of it today. And it’s only going to get worse as we get closer to the Crystal Empire.
It’s cold here, colder than I’ve felt in my life, even during winters back home. Fortunately, my sleeping bag’s holding up. Asked Skydale how she was doing during the nights, she said just fine. Started bundling up to keep warm during the day. Skydale didn’t pack anything for this weather, but she says she’s doing just fine. Wondering if she’s doing it just to seem tough, but then again, I’m from way souther than she is; she’s used to colder temperatures than I am. For all I know, this ISN’T that bad for her. For me, though, I’m shivering a lot. Not enough to keep me from writing, though. (Obviously.)
Snow’s not too deep, so it’s not slowing our pace that much. We’re also sticking to roads a bit more, so they’ve been cleared at least a little. Makes some trouble when we’re trying to find a place to pitch a tent, but we beat out a large circle off the path to make the area level and that seems to work. It also snows during the night, but so far, neither mine nor Skydale’s has caved in from snow on it. Just not coming down thick enough yet.
Was stupid and forgot that I couldn't eat grass that'd been buried under the snow for Luna knows how long. Fortunately, Skydale wasn't stupid and had packed food for this portion of the trip for both me and her.
Can barely see the Crystal Empire in the distance. Only a few more days to go.
Winter wonderlands
Can go screw off. They’re too cold
To be enterta
To be wonderful.
No, it’s not that bad, I can kind of see the appeal of living out here if I tilt my head and squint, but this made for a halfway-decent haiku.
Endless sea of white,
More to come from th
Yet more comes from the heavens.
Don’t get lost out here.
Of course, the Crystal Mountains are big and noticeable enough that that’s unlikely.
Guess what? Crystal Ponies use explosions to control avalanches.
Skydale and I were walking when she noticed something flying out from the plains in front of the Crystal Mountains. It hit a broad slope on one of the mountains and exploded, with the fire and the smoke and the everything. We heard a rumble, and some of the snow started sliding down the mountainside in an avalanche (we weren’t in any risk, though, too far way). Skydale and I looked at each other for a second before another soared out, hit another mountain, and exploded.
After a brief discussion, we ran out to the field to see what it was. Found two Crystal Ponies (that term’s not metaphorical in the slightest) working an old moveable mobile ballista. They were cranking it back for another shot when we got there. They noticed us, but didn’t change what they were doing until they’d actually notched the bolt, aimed, and launched it, starting another avalanche.
Started talking with them. They said their names were Geode and Clarity, and they were part of the Crystal Empire Avalanche Control Group. They were making one of their seasonal runs down the mountains (or technically up, since they went all the way away from the Crystal Empire and moved back towards it), making sure that there wasn’t too much snow on the mountains that could cause an avalanche sometime. Basically, they pre-emptively caused smaller avalanches using the ballista and bolts loaded with explosives so that the snow couldn’t gather as easily. They needed to be more careful in certain places, as snow would slide more easily and be more directed (Geode called them “chutes”, then he and Clarity got in a brief argument over what a chute was; Clarity said chutes were for water only, and Geode dropped the subject when she didn’t flinch).
Skydale beat me to one question: why they used the ballista for that. Interesting story, actually. Basically, when the Crystal Empire vanished under Sombra, any weapons in the Empire did too, and now stuff like the ballista is a thousand years out of date. Blowing avalanches with it is just a way of getting rid of the surplus in a useful manner with minimal risk.
We walked with them for a little while, watching them blow a few more avalanches, then Skydale and I said bye and left them; they were moving a lot more slowly than us, and we wanted to keep up a good pace. And a good pace we kept up, because I can see the Crystal Empire much better from here than yesterday, especially the palace. Even from here, looks sparkly; very very sparkly. Skydale thinks we should get there mid-evening tomorrow, which sounds about right to me.
Can’t believe I’m almost there. Never really thought I’d make it this far, but whaddya know.
Why’s the Crystal Empire so important that it can be in the middle of a field of snow but not have any snow fall within its borders?
I’m sorry, this is a stupid thing to get upset about, but it’s really bugging me. No other place in Equestria is exempt from the local weather, not even Canterlot. It plays all sorts of merry hell on your sense of temperature; it’s nice and warm within the Empire, but you take two steps over the city line and suddenly you’re freezing your tail off. Then when you adjust to that and go back into the Empire, it’s way too hot for a little while and you’re sweating bullets until then. There’s a good chunk of farmland within its borders, but that doesn't justify the suburbs also staying warm. It’s not like Dodge City or Hollow Shades, where they depend on a crop that grows well in a specific climate and they need to work to maintain that climate. (To be honest, I don’t even know what the Empire’s economy depends on.) It’s not even as if Princess Cadance’s living here warrants it; nopony changes the weather when Celestia or Luna goes to someplace. If Celestia’s visit to Sacramaneto happens to coincide with a scheduled thunderstorm, by golly, she’s going to visit it during a thunderstorm. (And probably fire her PR guys, because what kind of moron wouldn’t check the weather schedule first?) And besides, Canterlot still gets snow in the winter. So why’s here so important?
Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen many pegasi working with the weather at all up here. Probably missing them, I tend not to look up, but it’s still kind of noticeable. Must start staring into the sky tomorrow and maybe find out some things about the weather.
So yeah. Reached the Crystal Empire at long last. Stepped into it, got hot, was immediately bugged by the lack of snow inside it. But once I got over that, wow. This place is beautiful; it’s just so shiny. Even the pictures of Canterlot that I’ve seen haven’t looked this glistening (but those’re pictures, so…). And not just the buildings, the Crystal Ponies are like that, too. I said yesterday that the term wasn’t metaphorical, but it really isn’t. The light DOES catch their coats in a way to make it look crystalline. They don’t look hard, either, it’s actually a kind of soft crystalness. Don’t ask me how that’s possible, I can’t explain it.
Staying with Skydale for at least tonight, maybe more. Well, technically Skydale and I are staying with one of Skydale’s friends, but close enough. And the friend’s the one who volunteered it. When we reached the Empire, Skydale said I needed to meet her friends (who aren’t Crystal Ponies, but not every pony who lives in the Empire is a Crystal one). I said okay, and we did, and during the course of conversation, where I was going to sleep somehow came up. One unicorn said that, even with Skydale, she had an extra bed, and I was free to stay there. I took her up on it; save some money from not staying in hotels.
So I made it. Didn’t think I had it in me. I’m thinking I’ll stay in the Crystal Empire tomorrow, and start heading back the next day.
At my journey’s end.
It’s been a long, hard winding road,
But I loved it all.
Well, I need to get back to Lareindo, so I guess this technically ISN’T my journey’s end. Hmm.
Decided I’d leave the Crystal Empire tomorrow, so I took today to explore it a bit. Very pretty, very sparkly. Lots of angles everywhere: buildings, roads, signs, that sort of thing. Not a lot of curves. Keeping with the crystal theme, I guess; crystals don’t usually have curves unless you cut them like that. Not too threatening, though; you’d think all those angles would feel pointy and stabby, but for whatever reason, they don’t.
Found my way over to the train station and a tourist center. Figured if anypony knew what was up with the snow (or lack thereof), they’d probably work there. Asked about it at the front desk, got directed to a guide named Bravais (it sounds like brah-vai, and I only know the spelling from his nametag). He knew quite a lot about weather and said it was something to do with the Crystal Heart (a magical power source that protects the Empire or something, he wasn’t very clear). Said the energies from it are the source of the warmth in the Empire and what keep the land fertile for farming. I pointed out the warmth stopped right at the border of the Empire and asked whether the Empire stopped there because that was where it got cold again or if it got cold again there because that was where the Empire stopped. Bravais said he wasn’t precisely sure, but assumed it was the latter; if the Empire expanded, it would stay warmer further out.
While talking about the weather, I brought up the lack of pegasi (remembered to look up today, didn’t see any working the weather). Bravais said weather still changed here because of the way weather worked on a large scale; apparently, weather pegasi in individual towns and cities are responsible for shaping the weather sent out in larger, vaguer masses by “weather distributers distributors”. Cloudsdale’s the main distributor, but there are several others around Equestria. This far north, they just react with each other in the right ways to make the weather in this part of the world. Thought that was a bit strange, but Bravais just shrugged and said it worked.
Before I left, I asked Bravais why he knew so much about the weather. He said he liked knowing how weather worked. Kind of anticlimactic.
Saw the Crystal Palace next. Looks nice, standing up in the center of the city like it does, but it also seems a bit impractical. What’s with having the central plaza UNDERNEATH the Palace? Just getting into the Palace means you have climb up a lot of stairs. And it only has four legs holding it up; if one of them breaks, the whole thing could come crashing down into the city. The most open part of the streets isn’t visible from the balcony if whoever’s ruling wants to make announcement or something. Probably made by somepony who cared more for spectacle than sense. Still, there’s definitely a lot of spectacle. Saw what was probably the Crystal Heart right in the center of the plaza; it was a crystal, and it was heart-shaped, and it was magical and glowy and stuff. Couldn’t tell what it was doing, though.
Kind of hoped to see Princess Cadance, but didn’t get the chance. For some reason, I’m wondering if her marriage to Shining Armor was for political reasons, but I’m also wondering what those reasons could BE. He was the Captain of the Guard, so that’s high up in Canterlot, but living here with a princess is a borderline step down, considering he doesn’t have the power he used to. He’s Princess Twilight’s brother, but he and Cadance were married before Twilight became a princess, but Twilight was still a personal student of Celestia before she became a princess, so maybe her ascencion ascension or crowning or whatever was planned by Celestia well before the wedding, but then how would that fit into guiding Shining into marrying Cadance, and oh no I’ve gone cross-eyed.
No more speculation on stuff. Not here, not later, not ever. Speculation never does me any good. It just gets me confused.
The rest of the Empire that I saw looked nice, but wasn’t the most memorable. Splurged a few bits to see a jousting tournament, which was interesting. Kind of wonder what the point is, but you could say the same of all sports, and I’m not sorry I went.
Not much else to say here. Still staying with Skydale’s friend (I need to get her name), leaving early tomorrow. Didn’t like the snow; thinking about taking the train until everything stops being so cold.
A place of wonder,
This city in the nort far north;
A shining g
A glistening gem. (No, too obvious.)
Nothing li
Not a thing like it.
Just realized: could’ve said “empire” in the second line, not needed to add an extra syllable. But the Crystal Empire doesn’t seem all that imperial to me; you’d think it’d be bigger.
Woke up early this morning, said my goodbyes to Skydale and her friends. Still forgot to get the name of the mare I stayed with. (Curses.) Thought a bit about trekking south on my own, then wussed out and took the train out of the north.
Hey, snow is cold. I don’t like the cold.
Going southwest, not southeast; I want to take a different way home. What’s the point in just going over the same ground I already went through earlier? Not much. I went out to see Equestria, and I can see the things I already saw, or I can see new things. You bet your tail I’m going to go see new things.
There was one point today where the train had to stop briefly because of a big snowdrift across the tracks or something; I didn’t hear the announcement clearly. I thought a bit about going to the front and trying to see how they’d clear it, but we were on our way before I made up my mind. Probably just unicorns, but I still would’ve liked to see it.
Got off the train at about 2 or 3 in the afternoon. Small town called Sarsaparilla. Picked up a map of the area; there’s something called Galloping Gorge not too far south of here. Thinking I’ll go there next. Don’t even know what it is.
Moving south. Cold, but it’s not snowing, so I can live with that. The environment’s kind of like a really sparse forest; there are trees, but they’re not all that close together. Barely cover the sky at all. They’re mostly pines, but they’re different types of pines, so trying to eat the needles from one tree will get you a tasty snack but trying to eat the needles from another similar-looking one will get you a sharp needle jabbing you on the inside of the mouth. Testing the pointyness of each tree before I eat it. I’m getting better at recognizing which tree is which, but I’m just being sure.
Feels weird to be leaving the Crystal Empire; I felt big and important when leaving Lareindo, but now it’s just kind of “eh”. Like it’s something I’ve done a thousand times before. I haven’t even stopped in that many towns or cities. Probably just getting used to traveling and not staying in one place for long. Hope I don’t get too restless when I get back home.
Already arrived at Galloping Gorge; either this map’s smaller than I thought it was, or I’m terrible at reading maps. Probably the latter. Not exactly a canyon, kind of shallow for that, but real wide. Goes on for a long ways, too. I’m taking a risk and camping out on the bottom; I SHOULD be able to just follow the gorge out. Hopefully. Hooves crossed. And, well, if worst comes to worst, I can come back here and climb out; the walls aren’t too steep.
There’s a river at the bottom. Moving kind of slow. The water’s real cold, but it’s clear. Tastes fine. (Just realized: I’m growing more aware of how water tastes. How WATER tastes. It’s water, it shouldn’t HAVE a taste. But it does. Anyway…) Plants on the shore are surprisingly good, although a bit stringy. There are trees on the slopes of the gorge, but not a whole lot down below. Don’t know why; there’s plenty of other plants, it seems like there should be trees.
After the snowy plains surrounding the Crystal Empire, I feel kind of boxed in. There’s no horizon, just the walls of the gorge. Like I said, they’re not steep, but it still makes a difference. Everything feels a lot smaller and tighter. Can’t see where I’m going; from what I can make out, the gorge is real twisty, and I can’t see very far down it before a curve cuts off my view. Never thought I’d get even a little claustrophobic in a place larger than my house. Still, not TOO bad, and I’ll probably adjust as I keep going. If not, well, I can climb out. (Which side, though?)
Stopped a bit earlier than usual to try to listen to nature more intently, and anypony who thinks the wilderness is quiet is full of it. It’s noisy. Even if you take out all the animals, there’s the wind blowing all the plants around and the river running its course. It’s not loud, but it’s definitely there, and the only way you can’t hear it is if you stuff your hooves in your ears. (I get the feeling I’ve written this before, but eh. It deserves mentioning again.)
Deep down
Down below the land,
The river runs on alone.
It has its own course.
Not that great. Sounds like I’m writing about an underground river. Hmm.
Turns out Galloping Gorge is inhabited. Sparsely inhabited, I haven’t seen any towns or villages, but there’s small groups of ponies living here, usually not more than four at a time. Makes a lot of sense, actually; right next to water, plenty of, quiet (relatively speaking, see yesterday), out-of-the-way. Just the right kind of place if you want to be a little alone. Not for me, but can totally see the appeal.
Not much change in the scenery (Galloping Gorge goes on a lot farther than I thought), but met briefly ran into plenty of ponies. Here’s some of the more interesting ones:
- Carrara, a pegasus who carves rocks she picks up from the riverbed and sells them at a nearby town outside the gorge. Pretty small, but beautiful. Decided to buy one once I was convinced it wouldn’t break in my bags.
- Storm Shelter, a unicorn who offered to waterproof my stuff with magic once he heard what I was doing (for a small fee, of course). I said sure. It worked, but I would’ve appreciated it if he didn’t test the waterproofing by immediately chucking my saddlebags in the river.
- An Earth pony who chased me off her land with a paring knife the moment I was within fifty feet of her house. What’s with the psycho hermits who don’t put up “keep out” signs?
- Cadastra, another Earth pony living out here with her family. Got a husband (he was out getting food when I came around) and two fillies. She’s a cartographer; says she keeps track of state and regional boundaries in these areas or something. Offered me a map of the area, but I already had one.
- Windlass, a pegasus with a really thick accent (I think she might be from around Inverness) and several mounted crossbows on her lawn. None of them were armed, but there were enough to make me nervous. I asked her why she had all the crossbows, and she just said she liked studying them. She offered to show me one she’d been working on, but I’d already stayed a good while and had to leave.
So yeah. Met plenty of people on my way. Still in Galloping Gorge, but I think I’m getting near the end of it, with the terrain leveling off. Based on the map, continuing on my current route should take me right over the Unicorn Range.
Left Galloping Gorge late yesterday, getting into the Unicorn Range. I’m going through mountains a lot this trip, aren’t I? First the Macintosh Hills, then Foal Mountain, then the Crystal Mountains (technically, anyway), and now these. Wouldn’t be all that surprised if I went through another mountain range on my way home. Based on where I am, it’ll probably be something like the Sierra Neighvada. But I dunno.
Anyways, getting into the foothills (AGAIN) of the Unicorn Range. Might just be me, but the mountains themselves look kinda small compared to the others I’ve seen. Not as tall, and I swear to Celestia there’s less snow on them. If they are, should make going over them a bit easier. (Note to self: don’t climb down random cliffs.)
I might just be paranoid, but I’m getting a bad feeling about this. It’s… I don’t know, something about the atmosphere. It doesn’t feel HOSTILE, but it does feel vaguely threatening. Makes you kind of jumpy. Still going for it (even though I know that’s a stupid idea), but I’ll try to stay on my toes a bit more.
The slopes of the mountains are pretty sparse, compared to the other mountains I’ve seen. Not a lot of trees. Mostly grass. Wonder if that has anything to do with my bad feelings, but I don’t know why that’d be. Think I can see some gray splotches here and there: ruins, maybe? Could just rock shelves, but that’s boring, and they seem kind of focused around a certain point. Maybe they’re a village that I haven’t heard of. I’ll aim for them, find out tomorrow.
Sparse slopes, empty hills,
All the things arou
All of the things around me
Bespeak an empty lan
Bespeak aban
Bespeak barren lands.
Hmm. “Barren”. I only used that word to get a good syllable count, but now that I think about it, that’s kind of what it feels like. There’s just… nothing out here, not even many plants. (Still plenty of grass.) I haven’t even seen many ponies since I left the Galloping Gorge. Do they feel that thing, too? And if they do…
Okay, now I’m seriously having second thoughts about this. Go around, or charge forward and get through this as fast as possible?
Oh, what the hay. I’ll go through. I want to see those ruins. And if the bad feeling’s still around, they should make some protection to camp out in. I’ll reach them by about sunset, anyway.
Well, the bad feeling’s still here, but it hasn’t gotten any worse. I’ll risk it and stay the course.
Those gray splotches? Ruins. In a bit better shape than the ones I saw in the Macintosh Hills. They’re part of a large… complex, I think the word is. Mostly houses, but also some other buildings I can’t identify. There’s one set of buildings that’s still relatively intact, barring a few holes in the wall. They look like some kind of fronteir frontier fort. Outer wall’s made of stone, not wood, although I suppose there aren’t a lot of trees out here. Maybe there’s a quarry nearby.
Got to the ruins about an hour before sundown (which came earlier than I expected, since the mountains block out some of the western horizon). Decided to camp out here tonight for the extra shelter. With some time to kill, I poked around, trying to see if there was anything I could find about this place. Came up with nada. Everything’s been taken. Guess they abandoned this place for whatever reason. Tried to look it up on the map, didn’t see anything. In fact, there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of anything in this area, which wouldn’t be that glaring if there wasn’t a whole lot of somethings scattered around it. It’s like there’s something here ponies don’t like.
Still planning on heading forward, still can’t shake the feeling I’m doing something stupid. On the one hoof, there’s that bad feeling, these ruins, and the blank spots on the map. But on the other, it can’t be THAT bad, can it? Didn’t hear any warnings about it or anything. It’s not like there’s a permanent stormcloud or perpetual darkness hanging over the area. Maybe there just isn’t anything out here to bring ponies out; the town was a boom town for, I dunno, gold or gems or something, then there turned out to not be anything, and it was abandoned. And even with the bad feeling, I’m hardly an experienced hiker that could notice things to give me that feeling.
Can’t hurt to get out of here ASAP, though. There’s a low pass between two peaks right near me. I’ll aim for that.
Getting more and more south. The wind’s slowly getting warmer.
[Editor’s note: the following is written in a much sloppier script than the norm.]
To whoever finds this: my name is Hayfever, and I live in the town of Lareindo south of the Macintosh Hills. I leave everything to my younger brother Flax. My documents and Mom’s necklace are in the safe, [scribbled out]. The combination is [scribbled out].
Signed, Hayfever
[Editor’s note: the usual script resumes here.]
Well, that was close. I don’t think I’ve had a closer brush with death. Yes, going forward was stupid. What is it with me, mountains, and stupidity?
Okay. So. Found out why there isn’t much in the way of ponies in this particular area: this is manticore country.
Left the ruins in the morning, made straight for the pass. Found another set of ruins right at the top around noon; looked like some kind of toll gate. Poked around a little, didn’t find anything, kept going. Ran into yet another set of ruins mid-afternoon, but these looked more thoroughly ruined. Destroyed, walls torn down, rubble everywhere, that sort of thing. Poked around again, and actually found stuff this time. At first, nothing that told me anything bad had happened; mostly ordinary things like tarnished silverware or some old clothes, maybe a knick-knack or two. But when I found a ruined chest with gems spilling out, it finally hit me that you wouldn’t leave something like that behind on purpose.
And around the time I realized just how badly I’d screwed up, a manticore came bounding out of what little forest there was. You know, those big lion/bat/scorpion things? And you never really hear just HOW big they are; this one could’ve eaten me in two or three bites. Based on the way it charged at me, I’m pretty sure it was going to try.
I managed to get out of sight behind a wall before it reached me, but it still tried to track me; I think it could smell me. Chased me around the ruins for what felt like hours, roaring like mad the whole time. I managed to get a break and make it into the sparse forest, but it still kept following me, the trees barely impeding it at all. In hindsight, I wonder if it was REALLY hungry.
Galloping blindly, I ran up against a cliff and managed to find a cave with an opening just large enough for me to squeeze through; way too small for the manticore to follow me. Inside, the cave was the size of a small room and closed in the back, so if the manticore didn’t leave, there wasn’t any way I was getting out. Wrote that quick will just in case I was killed and someone found my journal, so I wouldn’t just vanish during my trip. (Note to self: erase the location of the safe and the combination.) But after a few minutes of trying to get me, the manticore gave up and left.
Waited a few more minutes to be safe, then poked my head out to look around. Didn’t see it, didn’t hear it, and the sky was turning purple. Since it was late and I was tired, I decided I’d set up camp in the cave, since it seemed secure. Couldn’t make a fire, thanks to the roof, but I guess that’s a small price to pay for safety.
Note to self: listen to your instincts more. You won’
A note to myself:
Listen to your instincts more.
They’re smarter than you.
They always know when
You’re going to do something
That’s really stupid.
Hmm. First try, that time. I’m lucky I didn’t try to write it while being chased by the manticore, or it would’ve been something like this:
Crap crap crap crap crap
Crap crap crap crap crap crap crap
Crap crap crap crap crap.
Hey, it was all that was going through my head at the moment.
Woke up, stuck my head out of the cave. Didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything, packed up and legged it until the trees got thicker and my instincts stopped yelling at me. Should be safe now. Also well out of the Unicorn Range.
Getting another one of those “was going on this trip REALLY the best idea?” moments. There’s no reason I couldn’t’ve gone to Canterlot and back instead of the Crystal Empire. If I did go there, I’d probably be back already. The trip would probably take me through less dangerous areas, I don’t know. And everyone goes to Canterlot at some point or another; any routes I would’ve taken would be well-traveled. Not to mention the whole “you’re inexperienced at travel” thing.
But the only way you’re going to get experienced at travel is by traveling. Might as well go longer (although, next time, I should plan out my route in advance so I don’t go headlong through manticore country). As for everyone going to Canterlot: that’s like, well, EVERYONE goes to Canterlot, and are you really going to just do what everyone else does? Yeah, plenty of people go to the Crystal Empire, too, but not as much.
And then there’s the things I’ve seen that I wouldn’t see if I went to Canterlot. Like Hollow Shades; it’s too far north, and I never would’ve reached it if I went to Canterlot. Everyone goes to Canterlot, but no one goes to Hollow Shades, and I’m real happy I saw it. Galloping Gorge is also too far north and, crazy knife-weilding knife-wielding hermits aside, it was a very soothing part of my trip.
So, if I had to choose whether or not to take this route again, would I? Probably. I mean, ocassional occasional threats to life and limb aside, I’ve seen some beautiful things that I never would’ve seen if I’d gone to Canterlot. It wasn’t the destination that mattered to me, anyway, that was just a place to get me moving to.
Can’t think of a haiku tonight. Maybe I should start writing limericks instead.
There once was a mare from Lareindo
Who dr
Okay, wow, like NOTHING rhymes with “Lareindo”. So much for that. (At least for today.)
Stupid Lareindo having a stupid name that doesn’t make any stupid rhyme with any other stupid word in the stupid Equestrian language.
Seriously, my trip’s been uneventful since I left the Unicorn Range (lots of grass and shrubs on the land), and that’s pretty much all I can think of. It’s like “orange”, only more personal. If I can conquer it, I can conquer my urge to write limericks.
Because, really, if you want to write limericks, you’ve got to do a “there once was a mare from wherever” one, if only to follow on from “there once was a mare from Nantucket…” And Lareindo’s the only place I’ve stayed in for more than three days, so I’ve pretty much got to do that place.
But “Lareindo” is hard to rhyme. It’s got that stupid n sound right in the middle of the word, and I feel like I have to include that. If it was just missing, like I lived in a place called “Laredo” or something, I could probably do it. But noooo, whoever named the town just HAD to stick that n in there and screw me up. (Yes, I know Lareindo was founded over a hundred years before I was born. It’s just REALLY WEIRD how much this tiny thing is bugging me.)
And, yeah, I could just go back to haiku, but that’s getting back in a rut, and I did this whole thing to get OUT of ruts; doing haiku again would defeat the point.
There once was a really dumb word
Such that attempting a rhyme was absurd.
Whatever you try,
Your suggestions, they fry
In the stench of that horrible turd.
Okay, that went fine. Maybe once I get the whole “Lareindo” thing out of my head, I’ll be able to do more with limericks.
Don’t really have a destination in mind at the moment. Just kinda heading south-southwest at the moment. Maybe I’ll see the South Luna Ocean, but I kind of doubt it. I’ll hit a town, change direction to be more homewards, never get a glimpse of it. But I saw the Celestial Sea last month, so that’s okay.
There’s a mountain to the west that I don’t like the look of. Not the same way I didn’t like the look of the manticore mountain; no, I just don’t know what mountain that IS. I’ve looked over the maps I have, and none of them show a mountain to the west of me. It’s strange and kinda disconcerting; I’m not off the edge of the map, am I?
Well, if I am, at least the land doesn’t feel too dangerous yet. You’d think things would get more hazardous near Equestria’s borders, but I’m not getting that yet. Maybe I’m not outside Equestria and there’s still a ways to go before I am. And the second I step over the border, a chimera will jump out of the bush and bite my head off. Actually, knowing my luck so far, that’s kind of plausible.
Assuming that doesn’t happen, I’ll just keep going the same way I’m going now. One way or another, I’ll hit the South Luna Ocean eventually, and then I can follow that back into Equestria. Or some other place I can get my bearings. Then I can head to Los Pegasus, cut across the San Palomino desert, and get back to Lareindo.
Yeah, I did some thinking about my route. Decided to pick a more concrete one than just “southeast”. But if I’m outside of Equestria, that won’t matter much unless I can get back inside Equestria. Hopefully won’t be out here too long.
For what it’s worth, land doesn’t feel all that different. If I AM outside Equestria, it doesn’t feel like it. Still hear animals, still have plants, still have weather. Wonder who keeps track of all that stuff out here if there aren’t any ponies. Deer? I know I heard something about deer in school. Yaks? No, yaks are way north. Probably deer.
Outside all the lands that you know,
There isn’t that much of a show.
The plants are the same,
As is the aim
So I don’t see the gain
Of coming out here where they grow.
Ugh. Terrible. Need to add onto it.
In fact, it really feels like
You can get the same things in your land
So long as you just understand
How everything works;
But sometimes that irks
Those who prefer
Those who can’t get their food plants to stand.
Feel like rhyming “stand” and “UNDERstand” is cheating, but oh well.
“How everything works” is complex;
Not understanding that can wreck
The plants that you grow,
And leave you with no
More than a pile of dreck.
Hmm. Limericks feel easier than haiku, but maybe that’s because they’re more flexible. (Still need to rhyme “Lareindo”…)
Hit the South Luna Ocean around noon. The catch? It was the northern shore, way beyond Equestria’s borders. Well, not WAY beyond -- I can see the lights of Los Ambeles from here -- but still far enough out to definitely be outside Equestria.
Don’t know how I feel about this, to be honest. It’s kind of an accident, since I never meant to actually leave Equestria. None of this has been mapped. But the land doesn’t feel that bad; it’s kind of like the area between Baltimare and Rambling Rock Ridge. Kinda foresty, but not really, and not that dangerous. Not sure whether I’m breaking the law or not; haven’t heard anything about it being illegal to leave Equestria like this.
Following the shore to Los Ambeles. Thinking I’ll get there in a few days. Don’t think I’ll do any sort of sightseeing; I’m quickly learning cities aren’t really my thing. Smaller towns and villages, maybe, but definitely not big cities. Even the Crystal Empire didn’t click all that much for me. Kind of wondering if I’ll run into any guards on the way there, a border patrol or something. Hope I don’t get in trouble if I do.
Haven’t seen any deer. Am I driving them away, or do they just not live in this particular area? Thinking the latter; I haven’t seen any houses or anything. But deer DO live in houses, right? Or are they semi-nomadic? I might’ve heard something about them not living in permanent settlements, but then again, that might just be me making stuff up. (Come to think of it, there being deer out here might just be me making stuff up, I dunno.)
Was following the shore, and at about 10 yesterday, found a worn-down path, followed it, and came to some kind of checkpoint or something. Staffed by five or six royal guards. They saw me and just waved me on through. That seemed kind of simple, so I asked them about the rules for entering and leaving Equestria. Their leader shrugged and said there weren’t any; the checkpoint was just there for ponies to know when they were leaving Equestria, as opposed to actually stopping anybody.
So yeah. Boring.
Back in Equestria, pretty much nothing’s changed. Everything feels exactly the same. So, seriously, what actually happens outside Equestria? Even if some other kind of pony person is in charge of the weather and plants and whatever, you’d think it’d feel a LITTLE different. But no, the only way I know I’m in Equestria again is the guards back there and the shore starting to turn from south to southeast.
I wonder if any ponies live outside Equestria. Well, I’m sure SOME do, but enough to take care of the weather and the land? That area’s supposed to be uncharted, but if there are ponies there, even if they don’t want to live in Equestria, you’d think they’d trade something for their own maps. Come to think of it, you’d think any deer that live out there would be that way, too. Maybe nobody lives out there and I’m just making stuff up. Again.
Getting closer to Los Ambeles. Should be another day or so.
I don’t feel one single change
Across the whole complete range
Of the nearby lands
Of the lands of green
That I have now seen
Of my nation and other lands; so strange.
Well, limericks may be more flexible, but they’re not necessarily easier. My writing’s getting less impulsive, now that I have to think about rhyming.
I keep walking and walking and walking and walking but it’s STILL a ways ahead of me. Either I’m terrible at judging distances or Los Ambeles is… real real big, and I just thought it was smaller because it’s that far away.
Otherwise, nothing’s really happened yet. Forded a great big river just after lunch. I’m real happy Storm Shelter went and waterproofed my stuff. Not too difficult to swim across, but very wide, and I might’ve had to go hours out of my way to find a place to cross it without soaking everything through.
Officially giving up on finding a rhyme with “Lareindo”. But I still need to write a locative limerick, so I’ll try something else.
There was a Lareindoan mare
Who thought, without one single care,
To cross all the land
Though she didn’t understand
The skills that she’d need out there.
Huh. That… actually sounds pretty good. (Although I don’t know if “Lareindoan” is the right word.) Let’s continue!
Turns out, Los Ambeles isn’t real real big. It’s even bigger. It’s INCREDIBLY big. I’ve never seen a city so bigly hugely huge in all my life. I’ve never IMAGINED a city could be so big.
I know what you’re thinking. “How big is it?” I’ll tell you how big. I finally got to the outskirts of LA mid-morning. And if I hadn’t taken the bus and taken the fastest trip across that I could, I’d still be in there. As it is, it’s still a bit too close for my liking.
Stopped at the first bus station I saw to get a look at the map and find a way through LA. At first, I thought, ‘Okay, this isn’t so bad.’ And then I saw the scale. ‘Okay, this is not only so bad, it’s even worse.’ The whole place just SPRAWLS pretty much everywhere. It’s so big, I’m not sure how anypony could live in it; just getting from place to place would chew up a big chunk of your time.
I suppose I can see it for some ponies -- there’s all the hustle and bustle, things are happening, you’re near lots of other ponies -- but this, more than anything, has me convinced that cities are not for me. There’s just too much going on.
Saw the scale, got overwhelmed, decided to take the bus. Was on the bus for most of the day, looking out windows at random stuff. Got turned around a few times, but made it to the other side of LA eventually. I saw some places that may have been interesting to go to, but I didn’t want to stay in LA too long; I wanted to get out before evening came, and I didn’t know how long it’d take to get out.
Just barely made it: left the last bus and was back in the country in late afternoon. Managed to get some decent distance, since I’d barely done any walking all day. Hopefully, LA won’t be too bright for me to sleep. Heading towards the Sierra Neighvada mountains; should reach them in a day or so, but after taking so long to get to LA, I’m not sure I trust my sense of distance any more.
Trusting my sense of distance again. The Sierra Neighvada’s as much closer as I thought it would be, although Los Ambeles doesn’t really look all that further away. Must just be that dang huge.
Another uneventful day, unfortunately. Been following a river towards the mountains (ought to get there in a day or so). Just noticed how much warmer it’s been getting; feels more like home. Not sure what else to talk about; land’s nothing I haven’t seen before.
There’s really only one thing for me to talk about today, but it’s a big one.
THE TREEEEEEEEEEES.
Before I got to the foothills of the Sierra Neighvada, I passed through this forest where the trees are… well, something else. I said Los Ambeles was big; these are that for trees. They’re ENORMOUS. The tree in the middle of Hollow Shades was bigger, but there was only one of them, and these are way taller. Any single one of them is probably ten times the size of my house back home.
It kind of boggles the mind just how monstrously big they are. It takes a good twenty seconds to walk around one (which isn’t all that much, but it’s still just one tree). They’re so tall, they feel like the skyscrapers I saw in LA and Baltimare; I think I might’ve gotten a crick in my neck from looking up at them, trying to see the top. And I think they look taller than they are, because they don’t have any branches until about halfway up, so you don’t have anything to compare them to except the other tall trees, which kind of skews your judgement a bit.
On a side note, this makes it one of the easiest forests to get through that I’ve been in. Because the trees are so big, they need to be a ways apart from each other, and the ground’s pretty clear of plants. I had to push my way through the undergrowth in other forests, but here, there isn’t any undergrowth to push through. It’s like someone just dropped a bunch of giant trees in the middle of somepony’s yard.
This must be a tourist attraction, since I saw some other ponies around, taking pictures and stuff. They didn’t pay any attention to me, though, so I didn’t pay much attention to them. There are also some paths across the grass, “paved” with woodchips. Wonder if it’s a park and I missed the plaque, or if it’s just a place for people to come out to.
The trees: so utterly massive,
They sit there, looking like passive
Pillars so high
To hold up the sky.
They look eternally placid.
That last line’s terrible, but I wasn’t going to throw out the first four lines just because I couldn’t find something to rhyme with “massive”.
Met a hiker coming down the mountains as I was coming up. Unicorn named Proud Pinnacle, though she insisted on being called “Pinny”. Real enthusiastic about mountains; she practically shoved her tail in my face to show off her mountain cutie mark. I get that it makes you happy, but could you let me keep my space?
Barring that, she was actually quite nice, if prone to not shutting up. Just kept talking and talking. She said she was just coming down from Mt. Whinny, which was probably too hard for me, but if I wanted to go to the top of A mountain and didn’t care which one, I could go for that smaller one right over there (she didn’t name it). Might do that; I’m fairly close to it anyway. Really liked the view from the top of Foal Mountain, but this is on the other side of Equestria; might be able to see Canterlot, if I’m lucky.
The San Palomino Desert’s just on the other side of the Neighvada. And from there, it’s a straight shot home. A LONG straight shot, but one nonetheless. It’s weird, thinking I’m close to being done. Wonder what I’ll be doing then. Kind of feeling like I’ll be prone to wander a bit more, but I dunno. Maybe I’ll just plonk down, never leave town again, and have stories of that one time I went all around Equestria and it was AWESOME and now I’m all old and boring and don’t do stuff like that anymore. I dunno.
Feeling a little nervous about getting to the top of the mountain. Mountains and me don’t have the best history. I mean, I seriously think that something bad’s happened to me whenever I climbed a mountain. There was that hermit in the Macintosh Hills, getting stuck on that cliff on Foal Mountain, the manticore in the Unicorn Range… Am I forgetting something? Probably. But I don’t feel like thinking too much about it now.
At mountain ranges, I gain
Nothing but a great deal of pain.
It all goes downhill
In them. Yet I still
Go through them again and again.
Sounds kind of awkward, but I’m tired. Don’t want to do any more work on it.
Wait. “Downhill”? Ugh. Unintentional puns are the worst.
Getting to the summit of a mountain is a lot less impressive when you can see two or three taller mountains right next to it.
Reached the top of this mountain (never got the name), then looked north and Mt. Whinny’s much taller and it’s RIGHT THERE and why didn’t I go up that one? The view up top’s beautiful, but I kept looking up at Mt. Whinny and thinking that I should’ve climbed that.
Oh, well. The view from the mountain I climbed WAS very very pretty. Canterlot was a bit too far away to see, but I may or may not have seen Princess Twilight’s castle. It’s real sparkly, and I saw what may have been sparkles at where I thought it was, but I’m not sure. At least the taller mountains around me didn’t block out the view for the most part; I could still see a lot of Equestria. And seeing the South Luna Ocean just stretch out to the horizon made me think: just what is out there? I mean, we know what’s on the other side of the Celestial Sea: griffons, dragons, and, if you go further, zebras. But we don’t really look west a whole lot. Wondering if there’s something out there to cause that.
On the plus side, nothing bad’s happened yet. Already more than halfway down the mountain, so (hooves crossed) I might actually get lucky this time. Heading towards a valley that opens out into the San Palomino. It looks green. No, REALLY green. Crazy lush. Lots of trees and such. Never seen anything like it, not even in pictures. Not that long, maybe seven or eight miles, but it should provide some nice scenery (and maybe even food) to hike through tomorrow before I get back to the brown and tan and beige of the desert.
Want to write a poem about tempting fate with nothing being wrong just yet, but I can’t get anything to rhyme for some reason. Maybe I should work extra hard tomorrow.
I swear, this valley perhaps the most gorgeous land I’ve passed through on my trip. It’s not even all that big, but I didn’t get all the way through it today because I kept stopping and spending all my time going, “Wow! Look at that! Wow! Look at THAT!” over and over and over again.
Because, wow, it’s just… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s beyond picturesque is what it is. You’ve got these big peaks rising up on either side of it, with all these unusual shapes. Like, one of them doesn’t even really have slopes like other mountains, at least not on the valley side; it’s just got this great big sheer WALL sticking up out of the ground and rising to a top that’s practically flat. It looks impossible to climb, but I’m pretty sure some ponies have gone ahead and climbed it anyway.
And then there are all these waterfalls. And they’re not like normal waterfalls, no, these spill out over cliffs and into the air, sometimes getting whipped away by the wind before they can hit the ground. They come out of these sort of elevated valleys in mountainsides, and it looks like they’re going pretty fast when they go over the cliffs. I can see three or four of them from where I am right now, and I saw lots more when I was walking today.
And I haven’t even gotten to the valley floor yet. There are trees, lots and lots of trees, but there are also plenty of streams winding their way through the forests, slowly joining up to a big river. They’re all over the place; I followed one of them partway up stream and was soon clambering up a steep slope, over rocks and debris as the stream itself rushed through a little rut it had carved. They must all come down from high up in the mountains; kind of wonder why SO MANY of them are here.
There’s lots of vegetation beneath the trees, too, most of it edible, and the edible stuff is yummy. Berries, ferns, bushes, it’s like a buffet out here. I tried a little bit of everything, and now I’ve got a massive stomach ache from all the stuff I ate. Not sick, just completely stuffed. Worth it, though. Totally worth it.
Honestly, if I was told that I couldn’t leave this valley and I was stuck here for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t mind all that much. I’d prefer to get things sorted out Lareindo first, but I could see myself living here. Haven’t met anypony else, which is a bit of a surprise, so I’d prefer maybe a bit more company, but other than that, this place is like heaven.
Sadly, I have to leave it behind tomorrow and get back into the desert, where everything’s hot and dry and brown and boring. I kind of want to stay here a little more, but I should get going. Maybe later. I wonder what this place looks like in the winter.
If I had to give grades to this place,
There’d be utterly nothing but A’s.
This place so calm,
That although it’s not long,
You feel every inch of its space.
I want to just stop and stay here;
That thought in my mind is quite clear.
But I have to move on,
So I cannot stay long;
Maybe some other year.
Last line is a bit iffy on the syllables, but it’s the best I got. Definitely not looking forward to tomorrow, so maybe that has something to do with it.
When I left that valley and got into the desert a couple days ago, I knew there’d be a lot less to see. But I forgot how much less. Out here, it’s pretty much just sand and the occasional mesa or whatever it is they’re called. And this is pretty much all I’ll see until I get back home.
Hip hip hooray.
Okay, I’m being a bit harsh. It’s got its own kind of rugged beauty, and I suppose it could be worse. But compared to everything else I’ve seen, it just looks so… bland. Empty. Flat. I don’t know. Like there should be SOMETHING there that isn’t. Everywhere else had plants or valleys or streams or cliffs or whatever, but there’s not that much variety here.
And it’s HOT. I thought it was hot back home, but this is way worse. I seriously need to watch my water, make sure I don’t dehydrate myself and die from sweating too much. Even the BREEZE is hot. That goes against a fundamental law of the universe or something. Breezes are not supposed to be hot. They’re either cool or bitingly cold. Not hot.
Not much going on. Walking, subsisting on plants, drinking from my canteen so I don’t sweat myself to death, all that jazz. (Note to self: don’t eat the cacti. You know what happened last time.) On the plus side, the skies are clear again. Stargazed last night. Think I might pick that up once I get home. It’s strange when you watch the sky enough and notice that the stars move as the night goes on. Yeah, I totally knew it before, I’ve even seen it before, but it looks a bit weird to me. Wonder if Luna does that on purpose or if that’s just the way nights work and there’s nothing she can do about it.
[Editor’s note: much of the original text of the following contains obscenities. At Hayfever’s request, these have been edited out.]
I’ve been [expletive deleted] mugged. I feel like [ex. del.], all my [ex. del.] gear is gone, and I’m stuck in some [ex. del.] town in the middle of [ex. del.] nowhere.
[ex. del.].
It was just after noon. I can’t really remember what the [ex. del.] happened. I was walking along a ridge, some [ex. del.] jumped me from behind, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, feeling like I’d been crushed by a [ex. del.] boulder, with all of my [ex. del.] missing. Completely [ex. del.] gone.
It hurt so [ex. del.] much, I could barely move; my legs would just [ex. del.] give out beneath me. It even hurt to breathe. But some deputies out on patrol from a nearby town noticed me, picked me up, and took me to the hospital there. Not complaining; it’s cool in here, and I REALLY [ex. del.] needed someplace soft to lie down. They dropped me into bed, and I pretty much passed out.
Woke up an hour later; at least, that’s what they say. The sheriff, a mare named Savannah, was sitting by my bed, wanted to know if I was feeling well enough to answer a few questions. I still felt like [ex. del.], but sure, I could do that. Told her what I knew. Apparently, I was mugged by some [ex. del.] gang that’s been harassing travelers out here. They jump random ponies on the road, steal their [ex. del.], and leave them for dead. Been a hassle to ponies all around this town for a while now, and she can’t do a [ex. del.] thing about them.
But this time, apparently, they got a bit sloppy. Those [ex. del.]s recognized me as inexperienced out here and didn’t bother covering their tracks as well as they should have. Now she can hopefully follow those back to whatever [ex. del.] they’re hiding in and take them down for good. Maybe I’ll even get my stuff back.
Don’t know how long I’ll be here. The doctor says nothing’s broken or sprained, but I still feel like [ex. del.], and even if I didn’t, I don’t have anything like a tent or a canteen or what have you, and I don’t think I’d last long in the desert like that. I couldn’t even buy those things; those [ex. del.]s took all my money. I don’t know what town I’m in, where it is in relation to anything else, what I’ll feel like over the next few days, or even what kind of [ex. del.] I’ll have access to once I’m able to leave.
So I have no [ex. del.] idea what I’m going to do tomorrow.
Snowflake. The town is called Snowflake. In the middle of nowhere in the [ex. del.] desert, and the town’s called SNOWFLAKE? Someone must have had a really bad sense of humor.
Haven’t gotten anything back yet, but Savannah’s putting together a posse (that’s the word, right?) to try to take down the gang, maybe get my stuff. Should be heading out tonight. Wish I could go with them to watch them take the [ex. del.]s down, but I’d just get in the way, even if I weren’t laid up. Oh, well.
Feeling a bit better. Still beat up, but at least I can limp around a bit. Felt better in the evening than I did in the morning. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get out by tomorrow; the doctor thinks so, as long I get enough rest tonight. Of course, if the posse fails, I’ll have to find some way to earn a few little bits of cash just to buy something so I don’t [ex. del.] freeze in the night, so I won’t be able to leave tomorrow.
Doctors let me out and about the town late in the day so they could see how I was doing. Not too bad; leg still twinged a little, still got a kink right above the tail, but it could be worse. Had an assistant of some kind (she said she wasn’t a nurse, forgot to ask what I could call her) to help me in case something went wrong, but nothing did. Meandered around Snowflake a bit before just dropping down under one of the trees in the park to rest until I had to go back.
Yes, park. Snowflake’s near an oasis, and they’ve got this small park just outside the town line. It’s not much, but it’s an awful lot of green for being this far out in the desert. According to a plaque I saw, this oasis was part of the reason Snowflake was founded; it provided water for weary travelers decades ago. Chances were, if you went through this part of the desert, you stopped at Snowflake.
Went back to the hospital before sundown. Hospital beds aren’t the greatest, but at the moment, it feels like heaven. No hard rocks poking me in the back that I need to get rid of, no whistling wind keeping me up, somepony waiting on me if I have a problem… For all I’ve been through, it feels just fine. (Food’s still [ex. del.], though. But it’s free, relatively speaking.)
I really want to head out
Tomorrow, ‘cause this little bout
Has stalled me too long.
I hate the whole throng
Of those aggressive and idiotic louts.
Last line doesn’t sound right, but I’m too tired to make it sound right.
Woke up this morning, and first thing I heard was that the gang had been caught and much of their loot had been retrieved.
To say I was enthusiastic would be an understatement.
Savannah showed me the pile of stuff they’d recovered. Most of it wasn’t mine, and I had to stop myself from claiming that this one really nice canteen belonged to me. But I found all of my own stuff, and it wasn’t even damaged. I guess if this gang was stealing things, they wouldn’t want to damage them, but I was still happy. They even managed to recover my money.
I felt a lot better when I woke up. Could walk around without wincing. Doctor said if I felt like I could leave, I could leave. I decided I felt like I could, so I set out once I’d gotten a map and oriented myself. Slower pace, so I wouldn’t set anything off. Sore, but I could walk. Not too bad. Didn’t go as far as I liked, but considering I didn’t know whether or not I’d be going at all yesterday, I’ll take what I can get. Hopefully I’ll feel better and be able to go farther tomorrow. If not… well, I can still get home like this. It’ll just take a real long time.
Before I set out, I asked Savannah about gangs in the area: had ALL of this one been captured, were there any others in the area, if so what were they like, etc. She said all this one’s members had probably been captured, but her posse would be scouring the area for the next few days, so any ponies that had managed to escape would have to lay low, and I wouldn’t have to worry about retaliation. And part of the reason this one was such a hassle was because they were the only ones around. If there’d been others, they’d be more used to this sort of thing, but here, their only experience was with this one group. That seemed like some weird reasoning to me, but oh well. If there’s no one else around that wants to take my stuff, I’m fine with that.
So I’m off. Not too far from Lareindo now. Less than two weeks. After passing through all this desert, it’ll feel good to sleep in my own bed again.
My body, it still feels quite sore.
Like I’ve never felt it before.
If it doesn’t get better
I’ll just have to weather
The pain until I reach my own door.
Okay, it’s not that bad. The doctor did give me some painkillers, and they help. But this makes a better poem.
Been slowly feeling better as I travel, going farther every day.
Met a herd of buffalo today around noon, right around lunch. Never knew how BIG they are. Even their foals (is that the right term or do they have something else? Dunno) are as big as me. They looked real intimidating but acted plenty nice. Even said I could stampede with them to a town called Appleloosa if I could keep up. But I checked my map, and it was too far north, so I said thanks, but no thanks. Not sure if I could keep up with them anyway; still a bit sore, and buffalo are a lot faster than they look. It’s like, they’re so big, you’d think they’d be lumbering, but they’re pretty spry for being the size of a train.
Unexpected benefit of eating with them: you get a LOT of food. Because they’re so much bigger, they need a lot more food, so their portions are larger. I could eat a whole meal from just their scraps. Don’t know what was in it, but it tasted fine enough. Very filling. Kinda mushy, though, and visually unappealing. Brown slop. Do visuals matter that much in food? You’d think they wouldn’t, since it’s taste that matters in food, but sometimes you just see something and just go “ugh” and you don’t want to eat it. Wonder where that came from. And if it means anything.
Buffaloes (I think the plural’s just “buffalo”.) Buffalo are completely nomadic, I noticed. It’s weird. They just travel EVERYWHERE and live off the land. Don’t think I could do that. Sure, I’ve been doing it for the past two months or so, but it’s been pretty off and on. Stay in the wilderness for a week, stay in a hotel or a friendly someone’s house for a night, stay in the wilderness for a week, and so on. And there’s nothing wrong with doing that, but it’s definitely not me. I like beds, and I’ll be happy to get home. Even if I could do it, I definitely wouldn’t be doing it out here. Way too bland.
Nomads. They go through the land
All together in one big band.
They support one another,
Each father and mother,
And the siblings, wherever they stand.
It’s a somewhat risky way to live life;
You can always encounter some strife
Wherever you are.
It’s rather bizarre
To have danger be so rife.
It definitely isn’t for me.
I’m really grounded, you see.
I stay right where I am
For as long as I can;
I live right where I want to be.
You know, pure nomadism (is that a word?) might not be THAT dangerous, especially out here, and especially since buffalo are so big. They ought to be able to defend themselves pretty well. Way better than I could, at least.
I’m at the Macintosh Hills one last time. They’re pretty much the last obstacle between me and home, but I’m REALLY not looking forward to climbing them. Don’t know why. My soreness is gone, and I ought to be able to get through them pretty quickly, but… I don’t know. I just don’t feel like it.
Maybe it’s my past experience with them. Barring the Sierra Neighvada, something bad’s happened to me every time I went through mountains. And this range is the first place I almost died. It’s like I’m feeling like things can only get worse from here. That I’ll set one hoof into the range, and then an avalanche will come out of nowhere and bury me. And this WOULD be the place that would happen, so close to home. It’s like when a bad guy goes “Nothing can stop me now!” and then his plan gets screwed up before he can finish his sentence.
Maybe it’s just the travel itself. Compared to like everywhere else, you can’t really go straight through or over mountains. You’ve got to find the right path. Sometimes you can’t find a path, and you’ve got to turn around and find another one. It’s just so slow. It starts out pretty, but after a while, it can get samey and tedious. You can’t really compare how far you’ve gone with the same thing on level ground, and it can be tricky to see how close you are to getting over the mountain. There’s a railroad track nearby; maybe I’ll just follow that.
I could go around. But that would put me WAY out of my way, maybe over two weeks, and I don’t want to be out here that long. If I just do it and go through the mountains, I’ll be home in less than a week, and I’m really looking forward to having a roof over my head again. Really, the only choice for me is to keep heading straight.
So here I go. Sigh.
Don’t really feel like writing a limerick tonight. Stupid, stupid mountains.
Across the great divide
Across the divide
Lies my home. My destination
Lies my home. Destination
Is close at hoof.
Is almost achieved.
Didn’t want to feel like I wrote nothing just because of those stupid mountains.
Through the mountains. Yes, already! How? By becoming a hobo.
That train track I mentioned yesterday? Was following it in the morning when I heard a train coming around a curve. Going slow when I saw it, so as it passed me, I took a chance, ran, and jumped onto a flatcar. Got on easy, so I just stayed on and kept riding.
Riding a freight train’s a lot different than riding a passenger one. You can feel the rails a bit more, and there’s a lot of wind. Depending on where you are, you can get a lot of dust and bugs and stuff in your face. But the view’s a lot more unobstructed; there was one moment where I was on top of a boxcar while we were going over a bridge, and… wow, like that valley near Mt. Whinny, it’s one of the things I’ll remember forever. The whole thing’s really serene after a while; I spent an hour lying on my back, staring up at the sky, listening to the rumble of the cars, taking in all the little bumps of the track. One of the most peaceful moments of this whole trip.
Of course, all good things must come to an end, and a little before we got out of the Macintosh Hills, on the Lareindo side (I could almost see my house from there!), a conductor started going up and down the train. I can’t really begrudge her that, she’s just doing her job, but I had to duck around to try and stay out of her sight. Didn’t do half bad for a while, but eventually she found me and chucked me off. It hurt a lot less than I thought it would; she was a unicorn, so I’m thinking she used some magic to cushion the fall a little.
Wound up some ways outside the mountains. Can make out Lareindo in the distance; should make it in two or three days (probably two).
You should try jumping onto a train;
It’s not that
It isn’t that much of a pain.
Go as fast as it does,
And keep on your toes,
And you’ll land just as right as rain.
Yes, I know “does” and “toes” don’t really rhyme. Shut up, I’m not feeling that rhymey tonight.
Walked into town just after three. Don’t know what I was expecting; I’ve been into plenty of towns before where nothing happened when I arrived, but it felt like something was missing. This IS my hometown, after all, the end of my road. Not a celebration, but something… that just happened to be going on at the same time I arrived to punctuate it.
I don’t know, this is a really weird thing to get upset about. I should hardly expect the universe to do something special for me just because I got home. But after all I went through… I don’t know.
Aside from that, though, feeling good. Resting on my bed as I write, and it’s never felt more comfortable. Ran into Macie and Dixie when I went to Cottonseed’s after dinner. Told them all about it, and they were real interested. They were a bit more impressed with me than I think I deserve, though; I screwed up a lot, but they were more focused on everything else. All I did was walk. And cheat by taking the train a few times. Yeah, it was a long distance, but it’s not like I made it in a particularly short time or anything. I just walked as much as I could each day. What’s so impressive about that?
Still, I was glad I could talk to ponies I know once again. I’ve technically been on my own for the past… two months? Wow. And I’d almost forgotten what it was like to just sit down and chat with somepony without having to go through all the “I’m so-and-so, I’m from this-and-that” stuff. We could just get right into the conversation.
Not much has been going on here, not that it ever has. Flax stopped by a few days ago, seeing if I was back. They both think he was worried about me. Probably; he always was a bit protective. (Even though he’s younger. Younger siblings should not be protective of older siblings.) Given all I’ve been through, I guess he’s right, though. My journey was hardly all sunshine and flowers. I REALLY should’ve tried to set a deadline and say “I’ll be back by then”. I’ll try and visit him tomorrow, just to be sure he’s okay. Don’t want him needlessly fretting.
Struggling to stay awake; bed’s too comfy. I am going to sleep like a LOG tonight.
Met with Flax. He actually seemed a bit more nervous about everything I did. Tried to criticize me for some of my stupider decisions, but stopped when I said I criticized myself for them a lot more than that. Guess he doesn’t think I need THAT much worrying over.
But aside from that, he was just as interested in my trip as Macie and Dixie were, put together. He especially asked a lot of questions about the Crystal Empire; it’s been an idea that’s stuck in his head ever since it came back, he said. Based on the way he looked at me, I think he wanted to have gone with me. Probably; he’s not any more prone to travel than I am, but look at what I just did. Told him about my journal, and he said he’d be interested in it. I think I’ll let him take a look at it sometime next week. Hopefully it won’t be TOO embarassing embarrassing.
When finally got to the part where I got back, he asked me if I enjoyed it. I said yeah, sure, I was in danger a few times, but I needed to get out of Lareindo just once. And, at the very least, there was never a dull moment.
And then he asked me if I’d do it again, to someplace else.
I said, “sure”, but now that I’m back home, I’ve been thinking, and I’m NOT sure. It was enjoyable, yeah, but there were parts I could do without. Having to live off the land, for starters. Wild grass isn’t too bad, but it gets really bland after a while, and when that’s all you’re eating… yeah. Packing food would weigh me down, though, and I’d go slower. And that’s not counting all the other supplies I’d need to pack, like rope. I’d need to have something like a timetable so ponies back here wouldn’t get worried about me, but that would make my trip more rigid and less flexible. And I still don’t like sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag. I can DO it, if I need to, but I really don’t like it.
But at the same time, I’ve seen things out there that I’d never have seen if I’d just stayed here, particularly that valley near Mt. Whinny and Hollow Shades. They’re just sitting out there in Equestria for anyone to find, as long as they’re willing to do a bit of walking. I didn’t know I was going to find them, but I guess that’s one of the joys of exploration: finding something beautiful that you didn’t know was there. It would’ve been a lot different if I’d said to myself “I want to see that valley near Mt. Whinny that everyone’s talking about” and then gone looking for it. I would’ve found it, been impressed by it, and then moved on, as opposed to being awestruck enough by it to stay there a day or two.
And then there are the other, little things I’ve learned. The Crystal Empire uses mortars for avalanche control. Los Ambeles is huge. Shadowberries taste delicious. Pulling a stagecoach is easier than it looks. Haikus can be written surprisingly impulsively (although GOOD haikus take some more time). There’s really nothing out there that rhymes with “Lareindo”. And don’t eat the cacti. I know it’s not much, but it’s something. I actually found myself looking for shadowberries at the grocer’s (no luck). And how many ponies here can say they’ve pulled a stagecoach? A few probably, but not a whole lot. All this and more, I never would’ve encountered if I’d just stayed home, sitting on my rump.
So, will I keep traveling? Maybe a little. Definitely not as far as I just did. And not always on foot, either. If I travel, I’m going to take a train at least past the Macintosh Hills, probably farther. There’s no way I’m taking four or five days just to traipse over the mountains. But after that… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll hike. Maybe I’ll keep taking the train. Maybe I’ll do something else. I don’t know.
But I won’t stay in Lareindo my whole life like I once did. I’ve seen too much out there. I need to see more. I want to Canterlot, Manehattan, Tall Tale Town, Vanhoover, all the rest. I want to see the Great Salt Lick. I want to see the Everfree Castle. I even want to see Griffonstone. I want to get out there. There’s just so much in the world that I never dreamed could exist, from the cities to the hermits and the deserts to the valleys, and now I feel like an idiot for not imagining them sooner. There’s just a grandeur that you can’t really describe. I’ll never move away from Lareindo, I love this town, but there’s a great big world out there that I’ve been missing out on. And I want to see as much of it as I can.
Although now, I feel like I’ve been around enough that I can say…
