“Now it comes to it. I don’t feel like parting with it. I found it, it’s mine, it came to me”. Bilbo stood defiantly in the warm glow of the fireplace, staring down at the ring in his palm, compelled to fight the inevitability of change. I don’t profess any grandiose expectations or imply anything more profound than a (hopefully) humble nod to the privilege that must envelope this entire venture, but sitting here – in the unseasonal evening warmth of an early west coast heat wave, I feel the contrast between my rather large feet – already blistered by a minor sortie into the city. They don’t have anywhere the earthen callous that must underlie the soles of a true Adventurer.
In spite of the obvious similarities in the way we run, I’m not much like Bilbo. Except I really like a comfy bed, good food, a warm fire, and the quiet that comes with a long peace. I’m exactly like Bilbo. When a group of Dwarves show up at the door – I just let em in. They can eat all my dinner, borrow my truck, and make off with a case of beer. Handsome Greg did this to me once – and when he left I was stuck sitting at my dinner table wondering what just happened. Jordan calls this phenomenon “the Handsome Bubble”. An ephemeral force surrounding those so blessed, much like gaining +5 to Luck. Must be all the trinkets they carry.
All of this talk of Hobbits and Dwarves actually serves a purpose I think. Kathryn ran across a little diagram of the distance the Fellowship covered on their quest to avoid the Eagles which might have saved King Theodin (among others who should have made the All-Middle-Earth team this year, bud didn’t – so aren’t worth mentioning – though I guess in the time I spent thinking about that, I could have named a few others). And give me a break Mr. Curry – 402!! 73!! Gives me hope that there is a secret to be learned (if you know who to ask ((***Norm)) this might just be the start of a new era.
More to the point: How far did Sam and Frodo Walk?
Turns out – those hobos only walked 1350 miles.