Day 10 of hiking. Two days left. Two days for self reflection.

Monday, May 22, Kirriemuir

There is a saying, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” (Thank you old Greek guys). 

But again, there is many a life examined, not worth living. I suspect I end up somewhere in between. 

Many friends thought this hike would be a great way to get out of the day-to-day stress and pull of life and really have an opportunity to muse, think grand thoughts and hone in on the meaning  of life.

The fact is, and I say this from the perspective of other TGOC’rs as well, it is all about putting one foot in front of the other and trying to maintain a comfortable body temperature. 

If you think about it, what more in life is there but moving ahead and not freezing? Not freezing physicially, not freezing emotionally, not freezing when the path of life suddenly sucks you up to your knees in muck. 

So right now, that’s as close as I can get to introspection. Although, right now, my body temperature is ideal, and my legs are muck free.

Up at 07:30, breakfast at the hotel and on the road at 09:37. 

The day started off actually sunny. The gods of Scotland were having a laugh. The weather turned gray, about 45 minutes into the hike and and hour later was pouring rain.This is rape seed, prior to being oil. It is a huge crop in Scotland.Part of today was along the Alyth Burn.

There were, as always, great views, even in the rain. But the truth is, not much really to report for the day except slight back soreness and wet shoes. I think of walking in wet shoes as walking in a warm brown tea. A horrible disgusting warm brown tea.

I arrived in Kirriemuir in the afternoon to a small inn, with outstanding food. No more Chinese for me (for the foreseeable future).

Kirriemuir is the birthplace of Sir James Matthew Barrie, who wrote Peter Pan. Above my bed is this inscription:

That is it for today, with the exception of one very sad thing. One of my favorite cats to ever own me, Nickerson, is on his death bed. He’s old, he’s had a good life and it is his time. But darn, I wish I could be there so he doesn’t think I abandoned him. In the second life, we could all do a lot worse than come back as a domestic cat.

Nini, Nickerson.

26km 487m

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