“You go there to jump off the cliffs. The rest is a jumble of granite slag in jumbled heaps you have to climb over. We ran into one other person, a stone carver named G. I hope it’s okay I’m using his name. It just blew my mind that a few miles out into the woods on a logging road you’d meet anyone like a famous artist. I do understand why a guy like that might want to hang out in an abandoned quarry. And then also why we might end up there, to revisit some epic plunges. Heck, I’d go to an abandoned quarry rather than try to go into a store and buy a sandwich any day. I just hate how people are so confused. This one wears a mask - that one doesn’t - and so the dance of passing each other between the Brillo pads and the Prego tomato sauce commences, reminding me of junior high school. Anyway, into the coal black water he goes, as the sun sets behind the western tree line, as things get real still. Turns out, they’re still mining out this way. You’ll meet a gate that tells you not to go any farther, because the roads aren’t bermed and because you’re you, and can’t go any farther without checking in at the office. You’re you, remember that. You’re you, and this is private property. The woods got shagged when the railway came through to carry out the stone, but you’re a bigger threat now, with your damned attitude. Did anyone ever say to you, wipe that smile off your face? In all my years walking ridges and down dead end deer trails in the northern forest, I never heard that once coming from the woods. There’s no need for authoritarian language when you take responsibility for yourself. The thimble berry flowers are out in droves, the wild strawberries can’t be bothered with any human. I’ve walked and walked this week, and when my knee gave out, I used a cane. Even up in the pasture and even when it hurt. Get out there and let yourself feel everything so it can heal.”
