Day 2 – Target Acquired and Missed

Getting off to a rip-roaring start already. I have arrived 'safely,' if this can be called 'safe.' I am literally lost in the middle of nowhere, without a soul to ask directions of. If this is Rivendell, the place has gone to hell.

If I were to make an educated guess, I'd say I'm in Hollin. The place used to be overrun with Elves, and that could be what this broken down building that I'm camping in is from. As I try to get my fat ass comfortable and not dwell on the fact that I left the house this morning without so much as a granola bar to my name (this is what happens when I get over-excited and rush myself – at least I remembered notepads and assloads of pencils), I can hear wolves off in the distance giving some poor bastards a rough time. I'm sincerely hoping that when night falls, I'll see some fireworks, because then I'll know that the Fellowship is near.

Otherwise, there are some things worth noting. One, this place is really, really quiet. Oh sure, you've got the usual sounds of wind knocking the tall grass around and whistling through the ruins, but you don't have cars. No honking and whatnot. And the skies are totally clear, too. It's like the US after 9/11, when the airports all shut down and planes stopped flying for days on end. You didn't realize how much a part of your life a sky full of jet trails was until there weren't any. That's what this is like.

It's like walking inside of a visionary's dream here. Tolkien wasn't all that fond of industrialization – you'll notice when he talks about machinery and pollution, it's usually in the hands of the bad guys – and favored a more romantically pastoral environment. So, you know... you can breathe the air and likely drink the water without needing an inhaler or purifier. I assume on the water, anyway. I had the good sense to bring some from home just in case. Wish I'd packed at least one Twinkie, for crying out loud.

With the absence of combustion engines comes unexpectedly clean-smelling air. I had no idea that, even in the little city-ish town sort of thing I live in, there's enough pollution to make a difference. I almost couldn't breathe when I arrived, like there's suddenly too much oxygen and my system freaked a little. Like there are still frickin' trees to produce it or something insane like that. (/sarcasm)

Apart from being nervous as all hell that something Tolkien didn't see fit to share about this region might show up – like roaming bears or ravenous badgers or mountain lions with a vendetta – it's pretty nice here. I could get used to it. Assuming the wolves and wargs Gandalf singes don't scamper away in this direction.