The end of the affair

Thursday was a very troubling day. Opening a fed-ex package. Sent overnight from Squamish. After its long journey from Columbia. Sent from my good friend Alain Denis. Finding Mike's chalk-bag inside a pale white, ruffed up envelope.

Over the past few weeks, I have been cleaning up. Making space in my life, and selling off all useless things. My apt will be vacated in a few days, and I will go. Where, its not quite clear yet. Rifle, Aussie, Morocco. Who knows. Least of all me.

Mike's chalk-bag was a godsend. I will climb with it from now on. Clark at Pusher had given it to him after the OR in 2009, and he picked it out himself. It somehow ties me to this web of family, history and resource of life that is undisturbed, even after his passing.

The past few weeks have been very hard. History of life keeps haunting me, and although I know that driving a distance will never put any actual space between my issues and the solutions, it will give me a buffering space to be able to think, climb and reflect on the past few years decisions.

And Mike's chalk-bag, although metaphorical, will likely serve as a grail on my journey.

Let it be said, let it be done. Actions speak louder than words, even when they are the wrong ones.

Ulric