The Writer's Life: Film & Book Reviews, Observations, and Stories
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top_of_cappanawalla.jpgToday I managed to get lost again on top of Cappawalla. It was just me, the mud, rocks, manure, and the cattle wandering around on the mountain. I did get sympathetic grunts from the cows and a neigh or two from a herd of horses. The problem was that I set off a half an hour before the group, and went up a cattle trail without knowing I was supposed to go straight. Of course, the real path wasn’t marked. You had to know where it was. I suppose, this is the story of my life. But I hate being part of a group, where you always seem to experience things secondhand, jockeying with individuals constantly trying to find their place in the pecking order. Everything is so much more vivid and intense when you experience it on your own. The price you pay is getting lost now and then, but I’ve always found that it’s well worth the cost.