by Jim Caron
Something had gone very wrong. As I tromped through the deep woods — brush lacerating the flesh on my shins, bugs and mosquitoes sticking to my ears and neck, the constant sticks and branches reaching out to trip me up or twist my ankle — I suddenly had a moment of dizzying horror. I had lost my bearings, and quite honestly, had no idea where I was.
Okay, I had some idea where I was: I knew that my house was probably no more than 50 yards away. I was in the woods that covered part of my 1-acre lot, woods left intact by the builder who developed my neighborhood, now enhanced with another 15 years of undergrowth — much of it wild raspberries. My task had seemed simple enough: walk the perimeter of my yard, leaving a single strand of wire behind me that would form the invisible fence to keep my golden retriever pup in the yard.
Yet now my spool of wire was almost out, much sooner than I expected. And then I noticed through the thick of the trees that the house I was surrounding with wire wasn’t even mine! In fact, I had no idea whose house it was: hey, I never see the backs of the houses in my neighborhood. In that insane moment of realization, the thought crossed my mind: Am I… in Russia? Somehow, I had taken a wrong turn.
But then I had to laugh, and just shake my head. I remembered my friend Randy. He makes it all look so easy. He and Quinn make their way all over town without any help, and now… NOW the dude is climbing mountains, and not the bunny slopes.
I have so much confidence in Randy that for me it’s a foregone conclusion that he’ll succeed. I mean, it’s pretty much like going for a walk in 48 parks! Isn’t it?
And then I’ll have an experience like this — lost in my own back yard! — that gives me a taste of the prodigious challenge he’s taken on. These are some serious peaks, and he’s not walking on asphalt pavement with nice teak benches every couple of hundred yards. These are long, exhausting treks. Just yesterday apparently it was in the 30s at the summit of Mt Washington, and it snowed. And Randy’s only eyes are Quinn; a single wrong step could injure either one of them — or both! (I won’t even tell you how often I stumble when walking my pups on, yes, paved asphalt.)
But as Randy says, “Having A vision is more important than simply ‘having vision.’ ” And right now — that is, if you are reading this on July 4 or 5, 2010 — Randy Pierce is out there with Quinn and Team 2020, living his vision.
Amazing. Inspiring. And 100% Randy Pierce.