Rungs

Tonight I arrived in Launceston after eight days of cycling in Tasmania. My muddy boots are the cleanest thing I own. I am bearded and burnt, aching from climbs I never expected. At the top of them all was Jacob’s Ladder. It felt like the end of the world, or maybe God’s workshop, all strewn with boulders and clouds. I didn’t belong there but I don’t care. These places are beautiful . . .

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