I’m a slug.
Not really, but I feel like it. There’s no Bowflex and no bicycle at camp. No, I’m not subjecting my beautiful road bike to camping environment.
So I walk.
My wife reminds me that I went home to workout and bicycle on Monday. She also points out two hikes with the kids and two days of four and six hours of non-stop kayaking and island exploration. She’s right.
Still, I walk.
The rain falls and creates a white noise that almost drowns out my footsteps. The soles of my shoes create that weird crunching sound on the sandy campground dirt that only happens in the wet. The rain and sneaker noise battle for audio superiority. When I’m lucky, I can hear a loon sing out in the distance. Suddenly I’m blinded. My glasses fogged from my coffee. It’s the price I pay for walking with a fresh cup of camp roast. The scent of Pete’s fire perked coffee-house blend is replaced by the aroma of decaying pine needles. The red debris covers the sandy path in front me. That’s how it will be for the next hour. The scents and sounds will swap back and forth in an unpredictable dance.
Last night my mother in-law cooked spaghetti dinner for 30. Mid bite, I apologized and left my chair in a rush to catch the sunset from the bridge. I managed to capture a shot of my brother in-law and his oldest daughter heading out to find the biggest bass in the lake. Some things are too important, yet too fleeting, to let pass without appreciation.
My wife asks if my walk was good. “All walking is good.” I show her the photo from the bridge. Then I remind her what my first surgeon told me. “You’re lucky. If you were riding your motorcycle up north and had a heart attack, with the severity of your blockages and their locations, you probably weren’t coming home. They would not have worked on you for that long.”
I tell her I’m so glad I’m alive to enjoy this. She asks, “This camping trip?” I look at her across the aging picnic table and clarify, “This walk.”
There’s not a lot of places I could share this where folks would understand. I think a few of you in this group will.
