10/12/2014

I have had an intimate relationship with nature over the course of this expedition. I call it an expedition because I have been on a search. I have been searching for those tiny gems which few have been lucky enough to encounter. Every place has these treasures. The trick is to find them. Before I entered Texas I had an inkling of their bourgeoning art scene. Barbra and Bob, the proprietors of El Paso West RV Resort, were a wealth of knowledge, and they confirmed my hunch. Not only did they have an RV resort that was very green, they could tell you tidbits about the little nooks and crannies of the state. Most people think cattle and oil when they think of this place, but a while back on my old journey I was privy to a glimpse of that artistry...

10/11/2014

The night’s rest was uneasy. I could not stop thinking about one of my best friends. He was such a kind and caring person and he had a huge heart. Unfortunately that heart of his could beat no more. His baritone voice sounded in my head as I tried to get some sleep for the upcoming day’s run. It would be a shorter run compared to the miles of an average day but, it would be tough.
The difficulty of the run didn’t come from terrain, distance, or weather. Instead the difficulty came from the range of emotions surging through my soul. It is strange how tragedy can trigger an onslaught of senses. The memory of a time passed becomes so visceral, so real, it is as if you are there.

My body felt fine. The first mile of the day was to the New Mexico/Texas border...

10/10/2014

Mesilla was a beautiful little town. The plaza and the homes all had Spanish influences. Many times th smallest places have been the friendliest. Everyone smiles and waves and no one seems to be in a rush. The morning started with a warm smile and a delicious breakfast of German pancakes. They were these light and fluffy creations topped with cream cheese and strawberries. With it I drank a delicious ginger tea. With the relaxed atmosphere and comfortable surroundings we decided to look through the small shops and walk through the plaza. Of course we ended up at a Bowlins Mesilla book store. The owner, Paul, was a fit gentleman with white hair and spectacles. We were able to chat for some time. I found out he was a runner as well.
He agreed to buy a set of books and sell them in...