for having my mind cleared to enjoy the scenery.
It was good, though. I needed to get it all out. It was sort of like sweating during a workout. You get a good rhythm going, get your exercise in, and then break a sweat to release all the nasty toxins in your body. Perhaps this was my version of therapy. Only, rather than toxins and sweat, I was trying to rid myself of the memories and decisions that haunted me.
I stopped along the edge of one of the trails by seaside cliffs and had a lunch that consisted of graham crackers, two GoBars, and water. When I unwrapped the GoBars, I remembered the cute woman at The Pine Way—Mac, her name had been.
That’s got to be short for something, right? I wondered. Maybe I need to make a point to ask her.
It was a nice thought, for sure. Not knowing anything about a woman made it much easier to assume things about her. As I munched on the GoBars, I wondered what sort of date Mac would like. What sort of music did she like? What were her hobbies?
It might be nice to have a conversation with a woman that didn’t have all of the American public, not to mention reporters and the paparazzi, eating out of her hand. I couldn't remember the last time I had a conversation with a woman that was caught up in the glitz and glamor of Tinsel Town. Dating had been out of the question when I was snared by Hollywood. The tabloid magazines annoyed me enough already. I had no desire to wind up on the cover of that crap simply because I went to have Thai food with a woman I was sort of interested in. No thanks.
Aubrey had been the closest I had come to dating. At first, I’d started seeing her because, quite honestly, it stroked my ego. It was nice to know that I could still manage to land a woman ten years younger than me. I kept seeing her, unofficially, because she was hot. She graced the cover of Maxim earlier in the year and it had sold more copies than any other edition of the magazine in the last ten years. She was gorgeous and, when the cameras weren’t flashing, actually very smart.
But she did her best to play to those clichéd Hollywood stereotypes. Hollywood didn’t want to see a smart and strong woman that looked like Aubrey did. She knew this and it didn't bother her to play the part. She loved the fame and attention. And that was why, in the end, I just couldn’t bring myself to date her.
With Aubrey in my mind, I cleared my little picnic, put the trash in my backpack, and started back down the trails. It was one o’clock and I was well on my way to making it to Catchman’s Overlook by six.
I continued on, taking in the trees and the wide expanse of sky overhead. I breathed in the crisp Alaskan air, doing everything I could to clear my mind. It was much harder than I expected. In one corner of my head I had the rotary blades of helicopters and the pinging noises of gunfire from a schoolroom walls; in the other corner, there were the flashbulbs and perfectly sculpted bodies of Hollywood.
Still, there were bright spots during my walk. There were singing birds and the tune of a swiftly-flowing creek. The scent of pine and soil were borderline overwhelming and totally refreshing. And finally, as the evening wound down and I found myself walking in the four o’ clock shadows of the forest, I managed disconnect from everything.
It was just me and the forest… and I took in ever single bit.
****
Catchman’s Overlook was really nothing special—or so I thought at first. I reached it at just before six o’ clock. My legs were tired and my back was getting sore from carrying the backpack, so I was glad to finally see it. A small sign had been posted on a tree, the name of the overlook chiseled into it.
I set my tent up twenty feet away from the edge, off of the path and in a small grove between a group of firs and alders. There was no need for a fire just yet; the temperature hadn’t yet dropped enough and I had at least
It was good, though. I needed to get it all out. It was sort of like sweating during a workout. You get a good rhythm going, get your exercise in, and then break a sweat to release all the nasty toxins in your body. Perhaps this was my version of therapy. Only, rather than toxins and sweat, I was trying to rid myself of the memories and decisions that haunted me.
I stopped along the edge of one of the trails by seaside cliffs and had a lunch that consisted of graham crackers, two GoBars, and water. When I unwrapped the GoBars, I remembered the cute woman at The Pine Way—Mac, her name had been.
That’s got to be short for something, right? I wondered. Maybe I need to make a point to ask her.
It was a nice thought, for sure. Not knowing anything about a woman made it much easier to assume things about her. As I munched on the GoBars, I wondered what sort of date Mac would like. What sort of music did she like? What were her hobbies?
It might be nice to have a conversation with a woman that didn’t have all of the American public, not to mention reporters and the paparazzi, eating out of her hand. I couldn't remember the last time I had a conversation with a woman that was caught up in the glitz and glamor of Tinsel Town. Dating had been out of the question when I was snared by Hollywood. The tabloid magazines annoyed me enough already. I had no desire to wind up on the cover of that crap simply because I went to have Thai food with a woman I was sort of interested in. No thanks.
Aubrey had been the closest I had come to dating. At first, I’d started seeing her because, quite honestly, it stroked my ego. It was nice to know that I could still manage to land a woman ten years younger than me. I kept seeing her, unofficially, because she was hot. She graced the cover of Maxim earlier in the year and it had sold more copies than any other edition of the magazine in the last ten years. She was gorgeous and, when the cameras weren’t flashing, actually very smart.
But she did her best to play to those clichéd Hollywood stereotypes. Hollywood didn’t want to see a smart and strong woman that looked like Aubrey did. She knew this and it didn't bother her to play the part. She loved the fame and attention. And that was why, in the end, I just couldn’t bring myself to date her.
With Aubrey in my mind, I cleared my little picnic, put the trash in my backpack, and started back down the trails. It was one o’clock and I was well on my way to making it to Catchman’s Overlook by six.
I continued on, taking in the trees and the wide expanse of sky overhead. I breathed in the crisp Alaskan air, doing everything I could to clear my mind. It was much harder than I expected. In one corner of my head I had the rotary blades of helicopters and the pinging noises of gunfire from a schoolroom walls; in the other corner, there were the flashbulbs and perfectly sculpted bodies of Hollywood.
Still, there were bright spots during my walk. There were singing birds and the tune of a swiftly-flowing creek. The scent of pine and soil were borderline overwhelming and totally refreshing. And finally, as the evening wound down and I found myself walking in the four o’ clock shadows of the forest, I managed disconnect from everything.
It was just me and the forest… and I took in ever single bit.
****
Catchman’s Overlook was really nothing special—or so I thought at first. I reached it at just before six o’ clock. My legs were tired and my back was getting sore from carrying the backpack, so I was glad to finally see it. A small sign had been posted on a tree, the name of the overlook chiseled into it.
I set my tent up twenty feet away from the edge, off of the path and in a small grove between a group of firs and alders. There was no need for a fire just yet; the temperature hadn’t yet dropped enough and I had at least
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