In an attempt to get back to my regularly scheduled life, I met up with DeLee this weekend and we went for our regular walk in the park. Both of us found it more strenuous than usual, and it took us longer than usual. The lunch afterward, however, was completely normal.
Although, normally when you go out to lunch the cashier doesn't exclaim "Where you been?!" because you haven't been there for a month. And the waiter doesn't ask where your husband is. Probably the waiter doesn't look knowing when you say "Have you heard of DragonCon?" Also, the waiter probably isn't shocked that you want a regular drink rather than diet.
I'm trying to remember how long I've been going to that restaurant. 12 years? It kinda shows. They never said a word over the years as I brought in a succession of men. About the men, that is. I bet they wondered, though. They noticed when JD and I got engaged, and then when we got married. They're probably waiting for me to show up with a swollen belly. (Ain't gonna happen.) I've observed their pregnancies, and then their babies, who turned into children, who are kind of tall by now. I like it. I like the continuity of a neighborhood restaurant, where they remember you and care what happens to you. They've been there for my dates, my breakups, my illnesses, my own little tragedies and celebrations. I worry about them and how their business does when the economy is down. If they closed it would leave an unreasonably large hole in my life.
Anyway. This post is not about that restaurant.
Before I got off track on food (it's a hiker thing) I was talking about how the hiking was harder than usual. I still feel kind of tired and sore from my vacation, I think. Dang that was a tough hike. It's going to take me some time to bounce back. I don't know what I'd do if I were thruhiking. You don't have weeks of bounce back time on a thruhike.
I wonder how I would have felt, physically, had I had time to complete my thruhike last year. I felt great in Vermont.. maybe not so much by the time I finished New Hampshire and Maine?
Shoot, I just poked my left knee with a finger and it hurt when I touched it. I don't think I've ever had this level of post hike soreness before when I haven't actually sprained / strained / broken something. It makes me feel decrepit. One lousy month of hiking and I'm gimping around. I didn't have any particular falls or incidents that would have given me traumatic injuries, but I think the sustained effort of big steps up and down has taken a toll on my knees and ankles. If they're not feeling less ouchy in a week or so I guess I'll have to go talk to my doctor and admit I did the crazy long distance hiking thing again, and get her to help me. I hate doing that. She keeps suggesting that I take up easier hobbies.
Plus there's the fact that I'm not overflowing with energy. I really should be, by now. Instead I'm sitting on my arse (after a 3 hour morning hike, admittedly) instead of cleaning out the fridge, which dearly needs it.
Perhaps I will clean the fridge out tomorrow.
Or perhaps I will nap.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Sominus Interruptus Droolius
We had a surprise thunderstorm last night. The dog let me know about it by getting up on the bed, shaking violently, and drooling. On me. There is very little that is as refreshing as the copious drool of a terrified dog spraying across your back at 3 AM.
I am not at my best at 3 AM. I am not even a little bit coherent. Unless there is something to startle me into alertness (gunshots; direct lightning strikes; my beloved making sounds indicating that he may be dying on his side of the bed) I am likely to grunt and roll over. Which is what I did. Several times. I was feebly trying to escape the drool.
Unfortunately the dog was HIGHLY alert and unfazed by my ability to move several inches on the bed. So the water torture continued. I patted her on the head reassuringly in the hope that she would settle down. This has never worked before, but I am dumb as a stump in the middle of the night and I always try it. She shoved her head under my hand with the implication that if I directed all my attention to petting and comforting her, she would agree to drool onto the bedding instead of my skin.
Eventually, my three on duty neurons collided and formed an idea. Drugs! I would drug the dog. We have drugs to give her if there is a storm coming. Actually she and I take the same drugs - me for travel, her for travel and storms. So all I had to do was find an appropriate bottle of pills for either of us, and I would be golden.
I dragged her into the bathroom with me. No way was I leaving her alone in the bedroom, possibly to lose bladder control and/or eat the trim around the door. As soon as I opened the bedroom door she wanted to bolt for the basement, but I am not JD and I do NOT go down to the basement in the middle of the night just because my dog is anxious. That would make ME anxious. I've owned this house since 1999 and it still freaks me out down there. It's way too Silence of the Lambs in the basement. And there was that one time with the bat. So no. No basement-going.
I lucked out in the bathroom and found two and a half pills. She only needs a half pill. I have no idea whose pills they were, because at some point they'd been relocated into a small ziplock bag for travel (which, if you recall, is appropriate for both of us.) No matter. I pried her mouth open and put the pill on the back of her tongue. If she had been a cat she would have given me the stink eye and spit it out, but thank goodness she's a dog and all she did was pant and smile. The poor dupe. She really believes we can make the bad noises go away if we just try hard enough, and she sucks up unbelievably in an attempt to make this happen.
So with my dog possibly on the way to being medicated (I didn't pry open her mouth again to see if she had really swallowed) I dragged her back into the bedroom and climbed back in bed. And waited. Within minutes, the dog heaved a HUGE sigh and curled up at the foot of the bed. And stopped vibrating violently.
Man, I love drugs.
As soon as the dog ceased and desisted with the Magic Fingers imitation, I passed out again. Seconds passed. The alarm went off. Really, world? Shouldn't I get some sort of morning deferral based on my heroic pill-finding action? I'm not asking for a lot here. I just want an extra, say, hour. Just enough to turn me into something other than a heavy-eyed redheaded zombie.
But, no. No deferral. Not even a wait list. I had to get up and feed animals and go to work.
As a result today was not a stellar work day. (Though, I must say, Dawn for some reason had cupcakes and my GOD the one she gave me was good. ) My mental fog allowed me to perform some activities which I usually find distasteful. Generally I procrastinate the yucky stuff, but I find that either insufficient sleep or a really solid cold is enough to protect me from the feelings of rage I usually get when I have to deal with certain things. So assuming I'm alert on Tuesday, I will at least have the satisfaction of knowing that my zombie self took on some of the dirty work.
Dinner tonight was courtesy of the farmer's market - a fragrant tomato sliced up and dusted with garlic salt, one of the sweetest ears of corn I've ever eaten, and a piece of baguette. I'm pretty sure the baguette will not survive the night. No potassium sorbate, or whatever it is that they put into foods so they don't immediately get stale / mold / shrivel into nothingness. Of course, that's why it's so good. Baguettes that can last several days typically have all the flavor and texture of a rubber eraser.
I think that once I've prodded myself into cleaning the litter boxes, I'll make an early night of it. They aren't calling for storms, are they?
I am not at my best at 3 AM. I am not even a little bit coherent. Unless there is something to startle me into alertness (gunshots; direct lightning strikes; my beloved making sounds indicating that he may be dying on his side of the bed) I am likely to grunt and roll over. Which is what I did. Several times. I was feebly trying to escape the drool.
Unfortunately the dog was HIGHLY alert and unfazed by my ability to move several inches on the bed. So the water torture continued. I patted her on the head reassuringly in the hope that she would settle down. This has never worked before, but I am dumb as a stump in the middle of the night and I always try it. She shoved her head under my hand with the implication that if I directed all my attention to petting and comforting her, she would agree to drool onto the bedding instead of my skin.
Eventually, my three on duty neurons collided and formed an idea. Drugs! I would drug the dog. We have drugs to give her if there is a storm coming. Actually she and I take the same drugs - me for travel, her for travel and storms. So all I had to do was find an appropriate bottle of pills for either of us, and I would be golden.
I dragged her into the bathroom with me. No way was I leaving her alone in the bedroom, possibly to lose bladder control and/or eat the trim around the door. As soon as I opened the bedroom door she wanted to bolt for the basement, but I am not JD and I do NOT go down to the basement in the middle of the night just because my dog is anxious. That would make ME anxious. I've owned this house since 1999 and it still freaks me out down there. It's way too Silence of the Lambs in the basement. And there was that one time with the bat. So no. No basement-going.
I lucked out in the bathroom and found two and a half pills. She only needs a half pill. I have no idea whose pills they were, because at some point they'd been relocated into a small ziplock bag for travel (which, if you recall, is appropriate for both of us.) No matter. I pried her mouth open and put the pill on the back of her tongue. If she had been a cat she would have given me the stink eye and spit it out, but thank goodness she's a dog and all she did was pant and smile. The poor dupe. She really believes we can make the bad noises go away if we just try hard enough, and she sucks up unbelievably in an attempt to make this happen.
So with my dog possibly on the way to being medicated (I didn't pry open her mouth again to see if she had really swallowed) I dragged her back into the bedroom and climbed back in bed. And waited. Within minutes, the dog heaved a HUGE sigh and curled up at the foot of the bed. And stopped vibrating violently.
Man, I love drugs.
As soon as the dog ceased and desisted with the Magic Fingers imitation, I passed out again. Seconds passed. The alarm went off. Really, world? Shouldn't I get some sort of morning deferral based on my heroic pill-finding action? I'm not asking for a lot here. I just want an extra, say, hour. Just enough to turn me into something other than a heavy-eyed redheaded zombie.
But, no. No deferral. Not even a wait list. I had to get up and feed animals and go to work.
As a result today was not a stellar work day. (Though, I must say, Dawn for some reason had cupcakes and my GOD the one she gave me was good. ) My mental fog allowed me to perform some activities which I usually find distasteful. Generally I procrastinate the yucky stuff, but I find that either insufficient sleep or a really solid cold is enough to protect me from the feelings of rage I usually get when I have to deal with certain things. So assuming I'm alert on Tuesday, I will at least have the satisfaction of knowing that my zombie self took on some of the dirty work.
Dinner tonight was courtesy of the farmer's market - a fragrant tomato sliced up and dusted with garlic salt, one of the sweetest ears of corn I've ever eaten, and a piece of baguette. I'm pretty sure the baguette will not survive the night. No potassium sorbate, or whatever it is that they put into foods so they don't immediately get stale / mold / shrivel into nothingness. Of course, that's why it's so good. Baguettes that can last several days typically have all the flavor and texture of a rubber eraser.
I think that once I've prodded myself into cleaning the litter boxes, I'll make an early night of it. They aren't calling for storms, are they?
Thursday, September 1, 2011
I have Rabies for a few days
It was a beautiful day here, today. One of those days where you put the top down on your car, if you aren't me. If you are me you abhor convertibles because they are noisy and they make you have sunburn and bad hair, and also they have no trunk space. But if you were, say, my husband or my mother in law, you would put the top down. And you would be happy.
I didn't put the top down for the aforementioned reasons, and also because I wasn't driving a convertible. I was driving a monster truck. Technically it was only a normal truck, but if you're used to driving Eddy, my cute little PT Cruiser, it's a monster. You don't sit down, you climb up. There are extra mirrors to check because it's so easy to accidentally crush VWs and other minuscule cars. When the truck hits a bump, the feeling goes on for a long time because it takes a while for vibrations to travel through all that material. What I'm getting at is it's big.
I am actually okay with this. I love Eddy, don't get me wrong. Eddy is just right for me. He can seat several adults at one time, and he has vroom if I need it but is otherwise content to go at normal speeds. And I thought about getting those gangland style bullet decals but then Eddy actually GOT SHOT and now I don't need them. Eddy and I are mega cool.
But Rabies... Rabies is on a whole nother level. (Okay, the truck's name is Rabies. I would think that would be obvious.) (Because JD put the dog's tags on the truck's keyring to distinguish it from Eddy's keyring, which is otherwise identical. And last year's rabies tag was on top. Do try to keep up.) There is no way NOT to feel like you are the shiznit when you are driving Rabies. You sit waaay up there over all the other drivers, and when you press the gas pedal Rabies makes this low rumble, like "I am the big dog, and you just got too close to my bone. And I'm not going to kill you because I am generous that way, but you had better step off, biyotch." And then Rabies graciously doesn't crush the other cars, although it does take out the occasional curb to subtly reinforce the point that it is larger and heavier than everything else in its environment.
JD claims Rabies is female but I am not feeling it.
I seem to have gotten off the point about it being a nice day.
After I dropped Eddy off at the garage (Eddy was making undignified squeaky noises) and rumbled in to work with Rabies, I got the opportunity to walk around. If it were December, I'd have driven. It's the first of September, however, and the air was gentle and the sky was blue. I went for a walk.
You know how when you go for a walk on a really fine day, it feels like you're floating a little bit? Like the sun is a big warm cat rubbing on you? How it smells like all the good things in the world are growing right near by, and there is not even a possibility of poison ivy or skunks? That's how today was.
If you know how that is, you might understand why I'm a long distance hiker.
After I went to the other building and did the inventory task I had to do there (which involved being in a tiny, windowless room in which everything is coated in an unhealthy grainy black dust) I strolled on back to my office. I was appreciating at an intensity level of 8. It's not really safe to appreciate at a higher intensity than that if there's traffic around. Although today's drivers were being pretty considerate so I could have gone for a 9.
I was enjoying the grass growing, and the particular way the leaves were hanging off the trees, and the bouncy way the squirrels were going about their business. And then I rounded the corner and saw my building.
My building is not a pretty building. It is exceedingly utilitarian. Any possible beauty which might have been imparted by its one original saving grace, which was neatness, has been neutralized by dead grass, equipment lying around, safety tape tied haphazardly around the equipment, and the obvious afterthought of a high bay garage having been turned into a low bay garage. Goodness but it's ugly.
I stared up at my building and tried to think of something positive about it. And I thought "Well, it's strong. It provides shelter and it keeps the rain out." That was the best I could do.
But you know what? Being strong and providing shelter is a beautiful thing all on its own.
I didn't put the top down for the aforementioned reasons, and also because I wasn't driving a convertible. I was driving a monster truck. Technically it was only a normal truck, but if you're used to driving Eddy, my cute little PT Cruiser, it's a monster. You don't sit down, you climb up. There are extra mirrors to check because it's so easy to accidentally crush VWs and other minuscule cars. When the truck hits a bump, the feeling goes on for a long time because it takes a while for vibrations to travel through all that material. What I'm getting at is it's big.
I am actually okay with this. I love Eddy, don't get me wrong. Eddy is just right for me. He can seat several adults at one time, and he has vroom if I need it but is otherwise content to go at normal speeds. And I thought about getting those gangland style bullet decals but then Eddy actually GOT SHOT and now I don't need them. Eddy and I are mega cool.
But Rabies... Rabies is on a whole nother level. (Okay, the truck's name is Rabies. I would think that would be obvious.) (Because JD put the dog's tags on the truck's keyring to distinguish it from Eddy's keyring, which is otherwise identical. And last year's rabies tag was on top. Do try to keep up.) There is no way NOT to feel like you are the shiznit when you are driving Rabies. You sit waaay up there over all the other drivers, and when you press the gas pedal Rabies makes this low rumble, like "I am the big dog, and you just got too close to my bone. And I'm not going to kill you because I am generous that way, but you had better step off, biyotch." And then Rabies graciously doesn't crush the other cars, although it does take out the occasional curb to subtly reinforce the point that it is larger and heavier than everything else in its environment.
JD claims Rabies is female but I am not feeling it.
I seem to have gotten off the point about it being a nice day.
After I dropped Eddy off at the garage (Eddy was making undignified squeaky noises) and rumbled in to work with Rabies, I got the opportunity to walk around. If it were December, I'd have driven. It's the first of September, however, and the air was gentle and the sky was blue. I went for a walk.
You know how when you go for a walk on a really fine day, it feels like you're floating a little bit? Like the sun is a big warm cat rubbing on you? How it smells like all the good things in the world are growing right near by, and there is not even a possibility of poison ivy or skunks? That's how today was.
If you know how that is, you might understand why I'm a long distance hiker.
After I went to the other building and did the inventory task I had to do there (which involved being in a tiny, windowless room in which everything is coated in an unhealthy grainy black dust) I strolled on back to my office. I was appreciating at an intensity level of 8. It's not really safe to appreciate at a higher intensity than that if there's traffic around. Although today's drivers were being pretty considerate so I could have gone for a 9.
I was enjoying the grass growing, and the particular way the leaves were hanging off the trees, and the bouncy way the squirrels were going about their business. And then I rounded the corner and saw my building.
My building is not a pretty building. It is exceedingly utilitarian. Any possible beauty which might have been imparted by its one original saving grace, which was neatness, has been neutralized by dead grass, equipment lying around, safety tape tied haphazardly around the equipment, and the obvious afterthought of a high bay garage having been turned into a low bay garage. Goodness but it's ugly.
I stared up at my building and tried to think of something positive about it. And I thought "Well, it's strong. It provides shelter and it keeps the rain out." That was the best I could do.
But you know what? Being strong and providing shelter is a beautiful thing all on its own.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
I stare at maps
So, I've been home for a solid two days now. I'm hungry and I ache all over from sitting in a desk chair all day. Which means I'm already planning my next excursion.
Technically my next excursion is next weekend with DeLee, but that will just be overnight, and I expect it to be fun and easy. I am not bothering with much planning.
The excursion I'm planning now is for next year. I figure I'll have about two weeks of vacation to blow on long distance hiking. So, which section to do? I have fewer than 250 unhiked miles of Appalachian Trail to pick from so my options are getting a wee bit slim.
I could opt to go south again, and do Mahoosuc Notch before I get any older or more decrepit. Although that would mean doing Mahoosuc Arm southbound, which doesn't sound like fun. Maybe I could start in Gorham, New Hampshire and hike north up to Rangeley? That's only 78 miles but some of them are tough miles.
I need to order some new maps, obviously. Gotta get some staring done. JD reads books at night and I stare at maps.
Technically my next excursion is next weekend with DeLee, but that will just be overnight, and I expect it to be fun and easy. I am not bothering with much planning.
The excursion I'm planning now is for next year. I figure I'll have about two weeks of vacation to blow on long distance hiking. So, which section to do? I have fewer than 250 unhiked miles of Appalachian Trail to pick from so my options are getting a wee bit slim.
I could opt to go south again, and do Mahoosuc Notch before I get any older or more decrepit. Although that would mean doing Mahoosuc Arm southbound, which doesn't sound like fun. Maybe I could start in Gorham, New Hampshire and hike north up to Rangeley? That's only 78 miles but some of them are tough miles.
I need to order some new maps, obviously. Gotta get some staring done. JD reads books at night and I stare at maps.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
All this inactivity is wearing me out
Last night I stepped into the shower (my very own shower) and started giggling. Because I had noticed water droplets on my glasses. I've worn glasses for over thirty years, and this was the first time I had forgotten I was wearing them and walked into the shower with them on.
I was really tired.
This morning I feel immediately into my normal home routine, the one where I hit the snooze once and then head downstairs. I noticed that JD had managed to leave his phone home. I packed up lunch (with extra snacks) and eventually got out the door. As soon as I got to work and parked I realized that I had also left my phone home. I felt naked and bereft. No phone! No podcasts! No facebook! No gmail! Very sad.
This was the first thing I saw when I walked into my office:
My coworker had made a sign for me because I forgot before I left. It was hung from my cubicle, projecting out into the air. You will note that he taped on an addendum.
Even the guys working on the building noticed I had been gone and welcomed me back (as they cut panels to put into the hung ceiling.) It was nice.
I managed to knock out about 500 of the 1100+ emails, not counting automated emails, that I got over the last month. I hope nothing in the other 600+ was due today.
I went for my daily walk and found that the woods around work took quite a bit of damage from the hurricane. I lost track of number of trees down, but there is a LOT more light getting to the ground than there used to be. I think this is going to be one of those events that leads to change. The extra light is going to let a lot of undergrowth grow up. In a year or two my daily walk could lead me through a lot of different sights than I see now.
My first day back to work was pretty painful. I'm used to walking all day now, and sitting still makes me ache. I suppose I'll get used to slack again soon.
I was really tired.
This morning I feel immediately into my normal home routine, the one where I hit the snooze once and then head downstairs. I noticed that JD had managed to leave his phone home. I packed up lunch (with extra snacks) and eventually got out the door. As soon as I got to work and parked I realized that I had also left my phone home. I felt naked and bereft. No phone! No podcasts! No facebook! No gmail! Very sad.
This was the first thing I saw when I walked into my office:
My coworker had made a sign for me because I forgot before I left. It was hung from my cubicle, projecting out into the air. You will note that he taped on an addendum.
Even the guys working on the building noticed I had been gone and welcomed me back (as they cut panels to put into the hung ceiling.) It was nice.
I managed to knock out about 500 of the 1100+ emails, not counting automated emails, that I got over the last month. I hope nothing in the other 600+ was due today.
I went for my daily walk and found that the woods around work took quite a bit of damage from the hurricane. I lost track of number of trees down, but there is a LOT more light getting to the ground than there used to be. I think this is going to be one of those events that leads to change. The extra light is going to let a lot of undergrowth grow up. In a year or two my daily walk could lead me through a lot of different sights than I see now.
My first day back to work was pretty painful. I'm used to walking all day now, and sitting still makes me ache. I suppose I'll get used to slack again soon.
Monday, August 29, 2011
In which I finally get home, and I am tired
I am home. I am too tired to write a blog so this is not a blog.
JD's car engine is trashed. They did actually pull the spark plugs and used a breaker bar to try to get it to turn, and nothing. They have to order a new engine. It will take a while.
With that established we rented a car. Amazing that they actually had one, and they came to get us minutes after we called. In fact just about everybody involved in our extended stay was incredibly nice and helpful, except the passing policeman and the tow operator's coworker, who (correctly) thought that we were four letter word idiots. And with the blue sky today, New York was really pretty. So I must say that my opinion of New York (aside from the Appalachian Trail, and the Adirondaks where I worked) has been significantly improved by our problems there.
Anyway this is not a blog, this is a picture post. All pictures by or of me on or near the Appalachian Trail in Maine. Not in order, either, because the software isn't good at that. And not even labelled. It's Maine. There ya go.
PS I took over 400 pictures so just be grateful I didn't post them all.
JD's car engine is trashed. They did actually pull the spark plugs and used a breaker bar to try to get it to turn, and nothing. They have to order a new engine. It will take a while.
With that established we rented a car. Amazing that they actually had one, and they came to get us minutes after we called. In fact just about everybody involved in our extended stay was incredibly nice and helpful, except the passing policeman and the tow operator's coworker, who (correctly) thought that we were four letter word idiots. And with the blue sky today, New York was really pretty. So I must say that my opinion of New York (aside from the Appalachian Trail, and the Adirondaks where I worked) has been significantly improved by our problems there.
Anyway this is not a blog, this is a picture post. All pictures by or of me on or near the Appalachian Trail in Maine. Not in order, either, because the software isn't good at that. And not even labelled. It's Maine. There ya go.
PS I took over 400 pictures so just be grateful I didn't post them all.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Help I'm stuck in New York and I can't get out
I'm losing my sense of humor about this hurricane.
Friday night JD and I stayed in Rangeley. Saturday morning we had breakfast with my erstwhile companions, and then JD and I headed south. We stopped in Natick, Massachusetts to see Austin and Kristy, who were visiting family. After a little while I wandered out and sat on the porch watching rain come down. A month in the woods had not prepared me to be thrust into the middle of somebody else's family reunion. The porch was nice, though.
Around four we said goodbye and began driving again. Hurricane Irene was getting more insistent as time moved on. We had thought to stop around Newburgh, but by Hartford the road was getting a little treacherous so I called ahead to make a reservation in Danbury. Ruh roh. No openings for five days at the first place. Next I tried a motel which catered to business travelers and fortunately got a room. It was cheaper than the one in Rangeley, even.
After checking in we found an open restaurant on our third try. I ordered a fantastic layered salad that I would love to reproduce at home. It had chicken grilled in hoisin sauce and some sort of peanut buttery dressing. Definitely a win. After dinner we retreated to the motel and passed out (having alerted the various family members to our state of health and location.)
Before bed I dug out my headlamp and put it on the bedside table, and made sure my electronics were charged up. Sure enough, sometime in the early morning hours the motel lost power. I ate breakfast out of my camping supplies, and JD ate leftover bread from his trip to When Pigs Fly. I was satisfied, he wasn't. Between his sore back, headache, and hunger, he turned into a close imitation of an angry bear. The winds were still strong and it was still raining, but he wanted out. And he was surly about it. I decided that I wasn't up for an argument on the merits of staying put in a motel with no power. I started packing up.
We took the stairs down to the lobby and JD went out in the rain (having forgotten his raincoat at home) to get the car. The angel standing in the entryway with me told me of a diner two miles away with power and good food. Those few sentences salvaged my morning.
I directed JD to the diner and an omelet soothed my savage beast. We stopped across the street to fill the car's tank and set out. Stoplights were out but the roads seemed otherwise okay.
Shortly after we got on Sawmill Parkway we found a little bit of ponding on the road. Not so deep that the lane markings weren't clear, and we got through with ease. However, after a few miles the road was closed. JD turned the car around to go back the way we had come. Northbound, the water was deeper. We plowed into it and the car struggled and then stalled.
JD pushed the car out of the water (which only came up to his ankles) while I steered. The car wouldn't restart. A highway help truck stopped and tried to jumpstart us with no luck. He called us a tow and moved on.
It turns out that we had entered that section of road while they were in the act of closing it. No information about closures had been available because it wasn't closed when we left the motel. While we were getting stuck they were placing barriers across the entrances. Just a little too late for us.
A state policeman checked that we were okay and then yelled at us. "You should have stayed home!" yes, officer, I would LOVE to have been at home. Thanks.
The tow operator showed up after about an hour. He seemed competent but mute. He warmed up a little, which was fortunate because it took a long time to get us to a car dealership where we could leave the car. Road after road was blocked by fallen trees and wires or was flooded. We ended up redriving the area where we stalled (very slowly) and by then there was a definite current. We must have gotten there originally very soon after flooding started.
The tow truck driver had been working all night. He was exhausted. I felt for him. At least he lived nearby and would probably be able to go home when his shift ended. He dropped us off at a motel in the next town, as there wasn't one in the town with the dealership. Before dropping us off he got a call from a coworker who wondered if we were f*cking idiots. I couldn't really disagree with the assessment but our driver was embarrassed.
So tonight JD and I are safe and dry. The car has some problem which may or may not be a quick fix. If it can be fixed quickly, or we can rent a car, we still may not be able to drive home, as portions of roads throughout the area are closed, as are some bridges. And of course power is out here and there, which snarls traffic. Basically we have no idea what is going to happen, other than we are both going to miss work tomorrow, at a minimum. It is outside of our control.
We are fortunate to have good friends and neighbors who are keeping an eye on our property for us. Our beloved petsitter reports that all is well at the house, and all of the animals are fine. My stupid horse apparently spent the hurricane out in his field, grazing. Shelter? Who needs shelter.
Last but not least today we walked to a restaurant for dinner. The wind was enough to make me stumble on the way there and back. Upon reaching the motel again we found a fire truck and other emergency vehicles. The motel had been evacuated due to a power glitch. Luckily, power was on and people were allowed back in by the time we arrived.
I have my headlamp out again. With all the wind another glitch isn't out of the question. I will retire to bed with no idea if I can get home tomorrow. I'm afraid this doesn't seem like any fun to me. I prefer my adventures better planned. If we can't leave we at least have a safe place to stay, but right now I just want my life back. I want to go home, see my friends, and sleep in my own bed.
For somebody who just walked a couple hundred miles over treacherous terrain in all weather, you'd really think I'd deal with adversity better, wouldn't you?
Friday night JD and I stayed in Rangeley. Saturday morning we had breakfast with my erstwhile companions, and then JD and I headed south. We stopped in Natick, Massachusetts to see Austin and Kristy, who were visiting family. After a little while I wandered out and sat on the porch watching rain come down. A month in the woods had not prepared me to be thrust into the middle of somebody else's family reunion. The porch was nice, though.
Around four we said goodbye and began driving again. Hurricane Irene was getting more insistent as time moved on. We had thought to stop around Newburgh, but by Hartford the road was getting a little treacherous so I called ahead to make a reservation in Danbury. Ruh roh. No openings for five days at the first place. Next I tried a motel which catered to business travelers and fortunately got a room. It was cheaper than the one in Rangeley, even.
After checking in we found an open restaurant on our third try. I ordered a fantastic layered salad that I would love to reproduce at home. It had chicken grilled in hoisin sauce and some sort of peanut buttery dressing. Definitely a win. After dinner we retreated to the motel and passed out (having alerted the various family members to our state of health and location.)
Before bed I dug out my headlamp and put it on the bedside table, and made sure my electronics were charged up. Sure enough, sometime in the early morning hours the motel lost power. I ate breakfast out of my camping supplies, and JD ate leftover bread from his trip to When Pigs Fly. I was satisfied, he wasn't. Between his sore back, headache, and hunger, he turned into a close imitation of an angry bear. The winds were still strong and it was still raining, but he wanted out. And he was surly about it. I decided that I wasn't up for an argument on the merits of staying put in a motel with no power. I started packing up.
We took the stairs down to the lobby and JD went out in the rain (having forgotten his raincoat at home) to get the car. The angel standing in the entryway with me told me of a diner two miles away with power and good food. Those few sentences salvaged my morning.
I directed JD to the diner and an omelet soothed my savage beast. We stopped across the street to fill the car's tank and set out. Stoplights were out but the roads seemed otherwise okay.
Shortly after we got on Sawmill Parkway we found a little bit of ponding on the road. Not so deep that the lane markings weren't clear, and we got through with ease. However, after a few miles the road was closed. JD turned the car around to go back the way we had come. Northbound, the water was deeper. We plowed into it and the car struggled and then stalled.
JD pushed the car out of the water (which only came up to his ankles) while I steered. The car wouldn't restart. A highway help truck stopped and tried to jumpstart us with no luck. He called us a tow and moved on.
It turns out that we had entered that section of road while they were in the act of closing it. No information about closures had been available because it wasn't closed when we left the motel. While we were getting stuck they were placing barriers across the entrances. Just a little too late for us.
A state policeman checked that we were okay and then yelled at us. "You should have stayed home!" yes, officer, I would LOVE to have been at home. Thanks.
The tow operator showed up after about an hour. He seemed competent but mute. He warmed up a little, which was fortunate because it took a long time to get us to a car dealership where we could leave the car. Road after road was blocked by fallen trees and wires or was flooded. We ended up redriving the area where we stalled (very slowly) and by then there was a definite current. We must have gotten there originally very soon after flooding started.
The tow truck driver had been working all night. He was exhausted. I felt for him. At least he lived nearby and would probably be able to go home when his shift ended. He dropped us off at a motel in the next town, as there wasn't one in the town with the dealership. Before dropping us off he got a call from a coworker who wondered if we were f*cking idiots. I couldn't really disagree with the assessment but our driver was embarrassed.
So tonight JD and I are safe and dry. The car has some problem which may or may not be a quick fix. If it can be fixed quickly, or we can rent a car, we still may not be able to drive home, as portions of roads throughout the area are closed, as are some bridges. And of course power is out here and there, which snarls traffic. Basically we have no idea what is going to happen, other than we are both going to miss work tomorrow, at a minimum. It is outside of our control.
We are fortunate to have good friends and neighbors who are keeping an eye on our property for us. Our beloved petsitter reports that all is well at the house, and all of the animals are fine. My stupid horse apparently spent the hurricane out in his field, grazing. Shelter? Who needs shelter.
Last but not least today we walked to a restaurant for dinner. The wind was enough to make me stumble on the way there and back. Upon reaching the motel again we found a fire truck and other emergency vehicles. The motel had been evacuated due to a power glitch. Luckily, power was on and people were allowed back in by the time we arrived.
I have my headlamp out again. With all the wind another glitch isn't out of the question. I will retire to bed with no idea if I can get home tomorrow. I'm afraid this doesn't seem like any fun to me. I prefer my adventures better planned. If we can't leave we at least have a safe place to stay, but right now I just want my life back. I want to go home, see my friends, and sleep in my own bed.
For somebody who just walked a couple hundred miles over treacherous terrain in all weather, you'd really think I'd deal with adversity better, wouldn't you?
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