Walk To Rivendell" aka "The Eowyn Challenge"

[Alatáriël Lossëhelin]

Indeed, Alatariël I am only 20 miles from there, so the weather here is the weather there! It was almost 70 degrees today, and no sign of it cooling off, either! Wore the sword and pseudo-Frodo outfit out today and made it a bit closer to the West Gate of Moria, surviving the Warg attack by huddling behind Legolas and staying close to the fire. Gandalf was amazing! I tried to take some pictures of myself in Frodo gear by shooting a pic in a mirror (one mirror was rather dirty, too!), but it didn't work too well. (I didn't trust the guy feeding the cows with my digicam...) The questionable results are here

Lyta: It's been in the mid-60's to mid-70's here in central Texas for the past week or two. I like those pics...you look so hobbity!! When I come to Tennessee, I'll revert into my hobbit persona and bring my Sting and Frodo outfit. Hopefully, we can meet up and at least take one another's picture... The locals will think it's a Hobbit invasion!!

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We passed through the Argonath today...very impressive. Aragorn said they were his ancestors, Isildur and Anárion, but I didn't see any family resemblance myself. We are less than 3 leagues from Rauros, which is at the other end of Nen Hithoel. We must then decide which direction we will journey--East or West. I will go whither the Ringbearer goes, whether it be Minas Tirith...or Mordor.

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"Behold the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings!" cried Aragorn...Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished kingdom. Awe and fear fell upon Frodo, and he cowered down, shutting his eyes and not daring to look up as the boat drew near...So they passed into the dark chasm of the Gates...Frodo crouching over his knees heard Sam in front muttering and groaning: "What a place! What a horrible place! Just let me get out of this boat, and I'll never wet my toes in a puddle again, let alone a river!"

"Fear not!" said a strange voice behind him. Frodo turned and saw Strider, and yet not Strider; for the weatherworn Ranger was no longer there. In the stern sat Aragorn son of Arathorn, proud and erect...a king returning from exile to his own land.

"Fear not!" he said. "Long have I desired to look upon the likenesses of Isildur and Anárion, my sires of old. Under their shadow Elessar, the Elfstone son of Arathorn of the House of Valandil Isildur's son, heir of Elendil, has nought to dread!"

Then the light of his eyes faded, and he spoke to himself: "Would that Gandalf were here! How my heart yearns for Minas Anor and the walls of my own city! But whither now shall I go?"