Haven't had much time to do much writing for myself since getting back from my trip North. When I got the word that Eric's wife might well have a serious health crisis on the horizon, he had to drop from the trip. I can't compare my emotions to what they must have went through in those days, but at the moment my reaction was what it must be like to get t-boned in traffic; you don't even see it coming. One minute you're on your way to DQ, the next you're waking up in a steaming wreck. Almost right away I felt awful that I had that reaction not because one of my friends might be really sick...but because the thought of spending my vacation alone brought on what must have been an anxiety attack. I went a little nutty for about 30 minutes that evening. It's a shitty helpless feeling, not being able to do much from so far away. And worse that my first reaction was based in selfishness.
The weather was incredible, in fact I was a little disappointed that it wasn't cooler...I think it reached 75 one of the days. And the nights were still. Every once in awhile breezes would come through that weren't even strong enough to be heard, but just enough to jostle leaves from the trees. Crisp leaves landing on one another were louder than the breezes that dislodged them.
Something was different though, that first night. I went down to the lake and listened to the waves...turned off my headlamp and just sat there. It was clear as a bell, and just too many stars to look at. But I couldn't stay too long. It was peaceful but for some reason I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something big behind me. No matter which direction I faced...there was just something looming.
I felt a lot better up by the fire ring, with the dark outline of the cabin in view. My guitar went well with a little fire and some Left Hand Milk Stout. I had a lot of time out there in the dark to waller all those thoughts around. I think I even dug up some new ones. Now, I know I do this, I catch myself doin' this and I know I need to take steps right away to get myself back on track. Gotta keep movin', keep doin' the things you like...but I'm really starting to wonder why I have such a hard time letting things go. Why I am so hard on myself.
One thing that helps...is bike rides. Lately I feel like I've done nothing but try to catch up on sleep and there have been days when the last thing I wanted to do was get on that bike...but 10 minutes into the ride and I'm always glad I went. Earlier today I rode two laps at Theodore Wirth park, an amazing little patch of singletrack right smack dab in the middle of the city. Its on rides like these where I get some real clarity.
I took my buddy Kyle along, it was his first honest-to-goodness mountain bike ride. Man, you'd think he had ridden just last week. Of course being 25 helps. If I could go back to that age knowing what I know now...I would do things a lot differently. He made it through 45 minutes of twisty riding without a scratch, then went home and managed to put a hatchet through his knee cap cutting firewood. Went in for stitches, ended up having some minor joint surgery and will be in the hospital till Monday. And my first reaction?
"Dammit...he won't be able to go ride with me till Spring."
