It’s here.

10 months in the planning, and the moment that typically would’ve become a waning spark in my mind 9 and a half months ago is actually here. I’m really doing what I set out to do.

I’ve never in my life wanted to do something for 10 months. I know that sounds stupid, but I’ve really just never put my mind to something like this.

It’s unreal, really. Surreal. Fucking bodacious, but inconceivable.

The pipe dream has legs. It’s got feet and it’s standing on them, facing my apartment door right next to the pile of clothes, food and gear I have ready to stuff in my car in the morning and get the fuck out of this city for a while.

I wish I could fully explain to you how different my life is today than it was 10 months ago — a year ago, 2 years ago. It’s the difference between being alive and dead. Night and day. It’s sweeter than I thought it would ever get.

You know when you peel an orange — and you expect to bite into an orange — and when you put it in your mouth, every once in a while it shocks you? It’s explosive! It’s running down your chin and you can’t suck the citrus off your lips in time to keep it from dripping all over the table and your hands and it’s not the mess you’re concerned with, but you just suddenly can’t bear to let any of that nectar go unswallowed?

I tell ya what, going from where I was to where I am — every day it feels like I get that orange, in one manifestation or another.

So I’m gonna go to Isle Royale. I’m gonna walk myself into the biggest challenge of my life thus far and climb to the top of the highest thing I can find and scream at the top of my lungs.

I think I’ll yell “thank you” somewhere in there.

To myself, to you, to it.

Long Live The Kachonga.

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