Monday, September 3, 2012
I was up by six again
and out taking pictures of the sunrise on the St. Lawrence and Canada just
across the river. By eight,
everyone was up and having a cup of coffee before driving into town for a
breakfast at a local diner which offered home-style cooking and servings the
size that even Jack only needed one order. We went to the point at Cape Vincent where there stood a
light house built in 1853 that was still functioning, keeping ships off the
rocky shores at the headwaters of the St. Lawrence where the waters of Lake
Ontario and all the Great Lakes moved towards the Atlantic Ocean.
We returned, grabbed some snacks for Jack and were on the road a little after ten for the six-plus hour drive home. Savannah and Kyle would have to continue their journey from our home to Columbus to be back in time for classes the next morning. We arrived home to a spaghetti dinner and a lot of tasks related to cleaning up and stowing camping gear. I kept some out of the attic and stored in my office for the trip John and I would be taking in three weeks, though.
It had been a tiring, yet restful, trip. I don’t mind the constant moving and poor sleep when I have the spectacle of the Adirondack Mountains as a reward. One night on Round Pond with a campfire, sounds from creatures of the forest, and a star-filled sky overhead gives me such peace no amount of driving or sleep deprevation can undo. Two nights would have been better, but none ever is.
While on my trip, I failed to leave a set of instructions for John on how to live in my absence. He went riding with some other friend and was descending Hines Hill Road in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park when, at speeds around 45 mph, lost control of his bike and crashed. Fortunately, he survived with only a separated shoulder, battered ribs, and abrasions over most of his back and butt. His helmet was shattered, but was the difference between his being able to tell me the story of the fall and a vegetative state…or worse. He’s sore as hell, but still hoping to make the trip to the Adirondacks in mid-September with me. We’ll see how the recovery progresses.
We returned, grabbed some snacks for Jack and were on the road a little after ten for the six-plus hour drive home. Savannah and Kyle would have to continue their journey from our home to Columbus to be back in time for classes the next morning. We arrived home to a spaghetti dinner and a lot of tasks related to cleaning up and stowing camping gear. I kept some out of the attic and stored in my office for the trip John and I would be taking in three weeks, though.
It had been a tiring, yet restful, trip. I don’t mind the constant moving and poor sleep when I have the spectacle of the Adirondack Mountains as a reward. One night on Round Pond with a campfire, sounds from creatures of the forest, and a star-filled sky overhead gives me such peace no amount of driving or sleep deprevation can undo. Two nights would have been better, but none ever is.
While on my trip, I failed to leave a set of instructions for John on how to live in my absence. He went riding with some other friend and was descending Hines Hill Road in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park when, at speeds around 45 mph, lost control of his bike and crashed. Fortunately, he survived with only a separated shoulder, battered ribs, and abrasions over most of his back and butt. His helmet was shattered, but was the difference between his being able to tell me the story of the fall and a vegetative state…or worse. He’s sore as hell, but still hoping to make the trip to the Adirondacks in mid-September with me. We’ll see how the recovery progresses.
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