Author: lostmungo2@gmail.com

Can there really be failure when life is spent in the pursuit of your dreams?

Or, is the act of pursuing a life well lived?

Readers of my first book will remember the mysterious Magda who drives the food wagon along the golden path. She was always a gypsy of sorts, someone with intimidating supernatural powers, but a heart of gold. Hiking across Galicia along the camino path I kept seeing the above witch dolls fastened to almost everything it seemed. I did some research and discovered that many locals are very superstitious about such things. Intrigued, I researched more and learned about the most famous witch of Galicia. She survived severe interrogation during the Inquisition and ultimately prevailed (as did most of the accused). In reality, she was a popular natural healer but not above casting an evil eye towards designated targets (for free or profit) which created more than a few enemies. The Catholic church was wise to such animosities and dismissed all charges. What I found particularly interesting is that she subsequently disappeared from history after her ordeal. Nobody seems to know where she went. Being an author, I imagined she transported to the Golden path and became a trail angel in my story. She now uses her supernatural skills to feed, clothe, shelter and protect pilgrims journeying through this other dimension. I got all this from a silly doll affixed to a fence post.

I must be a Romanticist at heart because all paintings of this era speak to my soul.

No cover charge for Kindred members but bar tabs must be paid in full!

(By order of the management/Bigfoot)

In my book, I imagine that aliens have not only visited our planet but been captured and enslaved for nefarious purposes by the Authority. Initially, I worried that I would alienate (forgive the pun) some of my audience with this bit of science fiction. After reading this article, I don’t feel so bad.

https://www.printfriendly.com/p/g/82HYR7

In my book series Wrathful Empathies I write about a secret band of rebels that hike the long distance trail, communicating to each other through moldy trail journals tucked away in a series of remote mountain shelters spread along a 2,000 mile trail spanning the Appalachian mountains. These rebels frequently get off trail for resupply and circumvent authorities by traveling back alleys in numerous trail towns. I posted series of photos in past blog post depicting what I imagined these urban paths might look like. Living in Richmond in a less than stellar neighborhood awaiting my next thru hike, I take similar back alleys on my way home late at night. Am I living the real lifestyle of my characters? The similarities are not disputable. The question is am I running from discovery of the authorities? China definitely is following my author’s blog on a weekly basis. Who knows what waits for me down these dark end of the streets. The following are pictures of my paths home. I will let you be the judge.

The Pope in Rome actually turned over the catholic church in China to the communists. This isn’t hyperbolic anymore. There is an actual agreement. If you are a frequent visitor to this blog, you have seen ample evidence of Communist China’s violent occupation and suppression of Tibetan Buddhism. The Dalai Lama escaped capture, fled into exile and has waged a relentless effort to free his flock from exile for decades. Sadly, the Catholic flock inside China has not only been abandoned by their shepherd but actually turned over to wolves. Unsurprsingly, there is an underground catholic counter revolution to take back what is literally paid for in blood. I feel a fellowship to these rebels and consider them members of the Kindred.

Hiliare Belloc once said;

“I have wandered all my life, and I have also travelled.  The difference between the two being this:  that we wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment.”

I confess that sometimes I can’t tell the difference.  While I am traveling, I often feel lost and that I am simply wandering around.  It is only later once I have arrived at my destination that I realize all my steps were purposeful.  Not once was I lost because I was always heading to where I was supposed to be.  It is a wonderful feeling to experience this realization.  Indeed, I have often felt lost and purposeless in my steps.  It is only at the end of the day when I settled down and appreciated my position, whether it be with new friends or in a perfect camp site.  Only upon reflection do we really understand the miracle of travel.  Stepping onto the mysterious path of leaving the familiar, embarking into the unknown and exploring the hidden do we truly reveal ourselves to ourself.  The horizon may be far away along a desolate road or closed in by thick forest, but it is always one step away.  As long as you believe in yourself and your purpose there is no amount of wandering that can keep you from traveling to your final destination.

Leave it to the French to capture the surrealness  of the GR20 hike.

If you ever thought wild adventure was beyond your reach, you are wrong.  This is totally within anyone’s capacity to experience.  It just takes an airplane ticket (and in my case, a ferry ticket.)

My documentation of the experience suffers by comparison.   Watching this youtube video transports me back to the mountains of the Enchanted Island.

 

Okay guys, this is your author talking to you straight up.   Do you really think this was a simple train accident?  Why would a derailment happen in the early hours of the morning at the Harpers Ferry bridge crossing which also cut off access to the Appalachian Trail for North and Southbound hikers?

Are we really to believe it was a matter of poor track, excessive speed or some other explainable engineering phenomenon?

How about spirits escaping the caverns within the Maryland Heights, fluttering wings of avenging angels, alien forces or wrathful rebels assaulting the Authority?

You decide.

Hint:  The most interesting view is from the cliffs of Maryland Heights.

Forgotten struggles, dead heroes, and sacrifices made.  My book is all about people who take a stand against tyranny of a totalitarian authority, similar to the bloody Republic born of the violent French Revolution.  A few stood up to this leviathan and paid the price.  The mysterious group of mountain rebels in my book who call themselves “The Kindred” were born in my imagination by reading about groups like the Vendeans in France to the Cristeros in Mexico to the Carlists in Spain.

In book one of my conceived Trilogy (Wrathful Empathies), I have set the stage for the underground movement.  Through time travel across US History, I will narrate a story of revolt.  The movement is traced through the bloodline of martyrs.  Consider that a clue to my ultimate goal of writing this story.

God, I love this music.  I can’t wait to lose myself in the Appalachian mountains for my thru hike in 2020.   Undoubtedly, I will be listening to music like this which is a collaboration between Tyler Childers and Town Mountain.  One of which I saw perform live in Berryville, VA not far from the old stone farmhouse where I wrote Wrathful Empathies, The 2nd Raid on Harpers Ferry.   Lets keep that on the low down….

Watched this YouTube video and it renewed my faith that others understand how deep the evil goes in our society.  Tiffany is my new hero.  There is a secret authority working behind the scenes that have stole our consciousness.  It is about hidden agendas.  She gets it because she lived it.  Truth is stranger than fiction.

The scene in my book of the illegal drug lab hidden deep in the woods of the BlueRidge Mountains was inspired by this song performed by The Steel Drivers.  Chris Stapleton does a great job evoking the mystery of an ancient stone retreat built by Choctaw natives before Europeans ever arrived.  I liked the imagery of its secrecy.  It is a retreat that exists out of time and parallel to existence of modern society.  It can only be accessed by those who know the woods and look for what is hidden.  From this place in a piney hollow that know one but you can find there lies a secret on the blue side of the mountain.  So deep and dark like a hurting in your heart where the sun don’t ever shine.