这部电影正在上映，因为是关于Backpacking hiking 的电影，自然在我必看的计划之中。 2月14日Calgary 机场，等机时给自己买了这本书作生日礼物，没有想到， 竟会成为我的第一本很仔细的从头看到尾的英文小说。
书作者用细腻的文字描写了她自己徒步走完1100 miles 的故事，那是1995年。途中写了她遇到的各种各样的人和事，更穿插写了自己的童年，母亲的去世，和继父，和前夫的故事，以及自己的迷失。 或许因为和作者同龄，或许许多的心理描写也写到了很多人的内心深处，这本书成为畅销书。
From lost
to found on The pacific crest trail.
to found on The pacific crest trail.
每个人都有迷失的时候，迷失是痛苦的，作者的迷失是从母亲的去世开始的， it broke me up, it cut me off, it
trumbled me end over end.
trumbled me end over end.
It took me
years who take my place among the ten thousand things again. ….I didn’t know
where I was going until I got there. It was a place called the Bridge of the
Gods……..
years who take my place among the ten thousand things again. ….I didn’t know
where I was going until I got there. It was a place called the Bridge of the
Gods……..
She really
wanted to be a good wife of Paul, she wrote: it didn’t go that way, I was who I was, the same woman who pulsed
beneath of her old life, only now I was somewhere else.
wanted to be a good wife of Paul, she wrote: it didn’t go that way, I was who I was, the same woman who pulsed
beneath of her old life, only now I was somewhere else.
She wrote:
it only made me beg the universe to give me another chance. To let me become
who I needed to be. Much I loved and admired my mother, I spent my childhood
planning not to become her.
it only made me beg the universe to give me another chance. To let me become
who I needed to be. Much I loved and admired my mother, I spent my childhood
planning not to become her.
It seemed
like a long time and also it seemed like my trip had just begun, like I was
only now digging into whatever it was I was out here to do. Like I was still
the woman with her hole in her heart, but the hole had gotten ever so
infinitesimally smaller.
like a long time and also it seemed like my trip had just begun, like I was
only now digging into whatever it was I was out here to do. Like I was still
the woman with her hole in her heart, but the hole had gotten ever so
infinitesimally smaller.
Miles weren't things that blazed dully past. They were long, intimate straggles
of weeds and clumps of dirt, blades of grass and flowers that bent in the wind,
trees that lumbered and screeched. They were the sound of my breath and my feet
hitting the trail one step at a time and the click of my ski pole. The PCT had
taught me what a mile was. I was humble before each and every one.
Here is the crater Lake, 一个我要去的地方。
