The unexplainable pull to walk returns. It’s Labor Day weekend, but up in Sedona the temperatures will still reach 100 degrees by noon, if not sooner. Best to start early, and so I arrive at the trailhead just after five A.M.

I only had a vague idea of the hike I wanted to do, and so I just started walking and thinking about the distance I would like to cover, ten miles is the goal. Soon I find myself in the wilderness at the sacred seven pools, although only a couple still have water remaining. I keep going, climbing higher, feeling I am running from a force that I can never fully outrun. Death.

These days movement seems to be the only thing that helps ease the pain my body is in. The further I go, the better I feel. Yet when I stop, the pain returns.

A crossroads of intersecting trails are to be found at the top of the mountain. I’ve been here before. I head down the backside into West Sedona. I occasionally see trail maps which keep me focused on a path that will eventually loop me back to my original starting point.

A few miles in, and the day is getting much warmer earlier than I anticipated. Water levels are getting lower than I would like. Luckily, I’m closer to neighborhoods and streets full of people this Holiday weekend, so help would be much more accessible if needed.

The final few miles have me crisscrossing through neighborhoods. My water is gone, but I seem to like to torture myself. It helps to subside the pain. I focus on completing this task, and eventually complete my ten mile journey.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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