The pilgrimage is gathering momentum as we approach Santa Fe, and these past two days have brought both reinforcements and revelations.

Desiree's friends Luzia and Hugo arrived from California to walk alongside us, and Jim Ekstrand rejoined our ranks—fresh energy and familiar faces that remind us how this journey has woven together a community far beyond our original group. Each new arrival feels like an affirmation that this work matters, that these miles we're covering are being witnessed and shared. We also enjoyed conversations with two reporters along the way.

As we walked, something shifted on the horizon. The Sangre de Cristo Mountains, which had been merely a distant promise, began to emerge to the northeast with increasing clarity. With each step, they grew more defined, their snow-dusted peaks a compass pointing us toward our destination. It's a powerful thing to watch your goal materialize before your eyes after so many days of faith and footsteps.

Near Lamy, we finally left the pavement behind and found the Rail Trail. That contact with dirt beneath our feet—the soft give of earth instead of unforgiving asphalt—felt like coming home. There's something healing about walking on ground that has its own life, its own breath. The land speaks differently when you're not separated from it by concrete and tar.

These quieter miles have given us space to reflect on how far we've come—not just in distance, but in spirit. The support we've received from our community has been nothing short of extraordinary. From those who've walked a single mile to those who've fed us, housed us, and prayed with us, we've felt held by something larger than ourselves. This pilgrimage has never been ours alone.

Now, with the Roundhouse within reach, our thoughts turn to what lies ahead. Climate Solutions Day at the capitol will be our moment to translate these miles into meaning. We'll deliver prayers to legislators—prayers carried on our backs and in our hearts across hundreds of miles. We'll raise our voices for the Clear Horizons Act and other legislation that meets this moment of climate crisis with the urgency it demands.

The Sangres are rising before us. Our destination is close. But we know that arriving at the Roundhouse isn't an ending—it's a threshold. The real work of healing our shared home continues long after our pilgrimage ends.

One foot in front of the other. The mountains are calling us forward.