On the evening of Nov. 5, I turned off the election coverage and sat down to read a chapter written by one of my favorite authors, Edward Abbey, entitled “Down the River with Henry Thoreau.” Ironically, and I did not plan this, the chapter was written on Nov.
4, 1980 — Election Day. Call it coincidence or serendipity but fate was speaking to me. Abbey voted that morning and set out on the river and would not know the election results for another 10 days.
Abbey quoted Thoreau on this matter: “A man who has to go to the village to get the news hasn’t heard from himself in a long time.” So here I am at a trailhead in the Yellow River State Forest in Iowa, eager to hear from myself rather than newscasters. While the Mississippi River is more than three miles away, there are plenty of streams and ravines in the Yellow River State Forest that point the way to the river.
Gravity serves as my current, with towering bluffs and deep valleys outlining every conceivable pathway. Walking up a bluff is every bit as challenging as paddling upstream. My trail companion is our dog Gill.
I carry with me a pocket full of treats. We have trained Gill to return on command if he wanders off too far by giving him a treat upon his return. My son has pointed out that actually Gil has me trained.
All he needs to do to earn a treat is demonstrate his willful independence. Good point. We all look forward to our treats.
I return home for my treats: a good meal, a warm bed and my couch in fron.
