More Sunday Strolling

This picture was also taken last Sunday. It was taken a couple of hours after our walk along the bike path. After our walk along the path, Sam and I were originally planning on visiting Grandma, but we called and she wasn’t going to be around. This left us some unplanned free time.

I don’t know what possessed me to, but I asked Sam how adventurous he felt. He asked why and I asked him if he felt like walking up Mt. Sugarloaf - which was only a few miles from where we were at the time. I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of my mouth, but before I could fudge the question, Sam said, “Sure!”

So we headed over to Mt. Sugarloaf and as we drove, I mentally ran through my best options for weaseling out of this commitment. Because it was a beautiful fall day, the traffic was heavier - which was due to all of the people coming from the various cities to see what leaves look like. And because of this, the drive over took us a little bit longer. Ordinarily, I would be in a borderline rage over this, but this was fine because it gave me a little more time to think of excuses.

As it turned out, these crowds offered the best and most obvious excuse for not taking a leisurely stroll up the side of a mountain. As we drove, I began peppering our conversation (and by “conversation”, I mean just me talking) with leading comments like, “Boy, there sure is a lot of traffic today. I’m not sure this is going to work out” and “I don’t know, Sam. There’s a lot of traffic today. Sugarloaf is probably going to be crowded.” and “I’m not sure we’re going to be able to find a parking spot.” Each time, I glanced over at Sam to see if he was taking all of this in. Each time, I strained to convey the appropriate amount of disappointment, all the while mentally repeating, “Oh please. Oh, please.”

When we got to Sugarloaf, the parking lot was indeed packed. Cars were circling around, looking in vain for empty parking spaces. I strained to contain my mixture of relief and elation and I started to say, “Oh well, that’s too bad, looks like they're full…” but before I got the words out of my mouth, Sam pointed and said, “Look! There’s someone pulling out!” And sure enough, there, right in front of us, was someone leaving. I had no alternative but to park the car.

Sam and I got out of the car and we started our way up the mountain. As we went, I wondered how it was that those words came out of my mouth. How did this seem like a good idea to me? I wondered what it is that goes on in the brain of someone who is out of shape, color blind, and doesn’t like heights, to cause them to come up with the suggestion that somehow it might be a good idea to walk up the side of a mountain and look at some foliage.

I had no answers. Instead, I spent the rest of the climb trying to breath and trying to avoid looking at the scenery below, while wondering how far my body would roll down the side of the mountain when I inevitably fell over the guardrail.

Well, I’m happy to report that, while the walk up the mountain wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, it went better than I had expected (i.e.: I didn’t die.)

Sam and I lingered at the top of the mountain long enough to snap some photos and long enough for me to get my breathing to the point where it no longer sounded like I was hyperventilating. After about forty-five minutes, we started to head back down.

On the way back down, we talked about how “that wasn’t so bad, " then about how much fun it was. (I’m pretty sure that one of us was lying.) As we walked, I continued to keep my eyes focused as directly ahead of me as possible.

When we got back to the car, Sam suggested that maybe we could do it again sometime and I told him that I thought that was a great idea.

Now, I just have to think of a better excuse.