My dog Lilo licked my face, my eyelids slowly parted and I looked at the clock; 6:45.
On the weekends, I think she does this to see if I’m still breathing since I’ve slept “so late.” She helpfully wakes me up and then goes back to bed. Just checkin’ to see if you’re still alive, dude. On weekdays it’s still dark when I get up and she’s still snoring away by my feet.
Once my eyes open I find it very difficult to go back to sleep. On Sunday I tried to linger in bed thinking maybe I could catch a few more Zs. But the foreman inside my brain pulled the steam whistle. The wheels, belts and pulleys struggled to life and the thoughts began chugging down the conveyor belt.
Right Brain: “If you got up now, you’d have plenty of time to catch the 8:00 ferry.”
Left Brain: “But where would we go?”
Right Brain: “Dopey, you have a whole list of things you want to do. We can do anything, everything, even! Pick one and do it!”
Left Brain: “But what if I pick the wrong one?”
:::my whimsical, anything is possible, right brain sighs:::
Right Brain: “What’s wrong with you? How could you pick the wrong one when the list is full of right ones?”
And so I zeroed in on heading towards Mount Equinox in Vermont. I’d seen pictures of the view many times. It meant that I would have to ride through the Berkshires and Vermont. Jackpot! I set off on the ferry and made my way to New England.
While I was riding along route 7 in Vermont, I spotted this sculpture. I couldn’t resist stopping. It reminded me of my husband Kenny and I. He, a 40-something version of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes and me with my out of control curls.
Mount Equinox’s Skyline Drive is a private road. There is a $12 toll that you must pay at the tollhouse. As you work your way up the climb, there are a few pull offs to take in the view. This was my favorite:
It was also where I dropped the new camera that I bought last month to replace the camera that I dropped while doing the Mason-Dixon Rally. Sadly the lens wouldn’t retract until I “helped” it. Then it wouldn’t extend. Using my mind powers, some creative language and a few quick bangs into the palm of my hand, the lens started working again. But, the focus? Not so much.
While I was messing around with my new broken camera I was also being eaten alive by flies. They were so maddening I had to put my helmet on and shut the visor with all but the tiniest of crack remaining so I didn’t suffocate in the 80+ degree heat. (I don’t know what that is in celsius. You’re on your own, rest of the world.)
The kicker is that not only do I have clips for my camera inside my jacket pocket:
But I also have a lanyard for around my neck specifically for my camera. Apparently both only work… when used. It just goes to show you that I am a master of self-sabotage.
Unfortunately, I can become fixated on things. I was so pissed off about my own idiocy that I didn’t enjoy my time at the top of the mountain nearly as much as I should have. Thems the breaks.
Thankfully the simple act of having to ride the 200 miles back to the ferry cleared my mind and kept me focused on the task at hand. Riding fixes everything.