I haven’t been getting my butt in the writing chair over the last week or so. Ambrose and I did go on a short backpacking trip last weekend, so I have a partial excuse, but that’s not really enough. I want to finish my solo write up by the end of the month and have the book for sale before I visit family in October. Though I won’t likely have finished copies to give them at the visit.

I know once I finish the write up, the photo part can be accomplished in a weekend’s steady work. Formatting the book and getting the layout right for print is not a hard part for me. I enjoy creating the photos and captions and making it all come together. It’s simple work, repetitive, steady. When a mistake is made, it is simple, if not always fast or easy, to correct.

The writing part is different. I don’t have a template. I don’t have as much structure to dictate what I should or shouldn’t be doing. I look at the photos I took as I write, but they don’t provide the narrative. They can’t convey the harshness of the wind, how cold it was and how it sometimes drove particles of sand into my face or blew so hard that I had trouble walking forward. Even the video I took of the wind whipping my tent doesn’t tell as much of the story as my words must bear.

I have to find the story, create it and frame it without knowing exactly what its shape should be before I start. I know what I want to do – I want to share my adventure. And I want to share how these adventures have changed me and how I approach life. Hiking alone grows self reliance. It makes me more confident and sure of myself. It proves to me that I have the ability to do more than I realize.

And, if I write my book right, it will give others a taste of those results, and encourage others to strive and try to do things that they never would have thought possible.

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