Waxing Gibbous Moon
I got temporarily unfound today on the Main Loop Road of Hueston State Park north of Oxford OH. This was because I did not trust my tingling Spidey sense that was trying to tell me that the ADT turn by turn directions were, uh, fouled up.
I should have turned/wanted to turn left on a road that was mis-named, whose distance was mis-calculated, and whose left turn was in violation of the instruction that said to turn right. Other than that, the directions were perfect.
I really really really wanted to turn left. Bobalooie really really really wanted to turn left, too. But dOH! I followed instructions and paid the price – walked two miles east – stopped – asked a park ranger – cursed – turned around – returned two miles west – uphill both ways.
By this time it was mid-afternoon and I, instead of stubbornly turning to hike on the correct road or maybe pitching a lonesome fit in the woodsy woods woodsy, went to the park campground and pitched my tent.
Good decision. In the campsite next to mine was a family out for a long weekend in their mobile home – retirees Jan and Neal, their engineer daughter Theresa, her oboe-playing daughter Miranda, and their hospice wonder rescue dog Alice – super nice folks who invited me over for pork chops and potatoes and corn and peach tea and an hour or so of fun conversation. Yes, that’s right, me, I, the silent, blogging, touring, transcontinental strollerist, conversed for an hour and enjoyed it. At 64, I may actually be growing up. Holy normalcy, Batman, is this what it’s like?
I stopped to take a picture of the park’s basketball court earlier in the day, when I still knew where I was. But before I could focus, a sleek young jogger came by so I asked her to kindly do the snapping.
She was so pretty that I forgot to take the picture of the court. She jogged off and I walked on in the opposite direction, feeling puppy love like a teenager on a summer vacation. It was like the woods opened up, showed me a rare flower, and closed again. Cool place/moment in the hiking space/time continuum. Maybe I’m not growing up. Maybe this is one of those Benjamin Button things.
So TOMORROW I will cross into Indiana, the Good Lord and the turn-by-turns willing. It’s okay. This is where I’m supposed to be.
If I turn into an infant, I will crawl up into Bobalooie and hope someone comes along to push me back to California.
Peace, Love, Lost, and Found,