... even though we are nearly in the middle of another week. I have been so consistently working for the past three days, there has been no time to type and fill you in on all the activities that occurred before being employed on Sunday. So you have been sitting there, anxiously awaiting the report, gnawing on your nails, picking at your cuticles, right?
We were supposed to meet at the lodge at Amicalola State Park, which is directly north of Atlanta, though there is no easy way to get there. As in: you cannot go directly from point A to point B. I probably made it even more convoluted than necessary, as I was desperate to get out of town and away from the early morning commuter traffic in the metro. Never one to take the easy way out, I literally drove away from the meeting point to get there. Headed east instead of north, to go to Gainesville, then turn back west, so anxious was I to avoid the thousands of people who were heading into town. And leaving much earlier than necessary to meet at the appointed time, just to get out of the congestion and off the main-est arteries that lead into the city.
So I had plenty of time to make lots of U-turns, while I was navigating with: can you believe it? A Paper Map. Trying to look for directional/road signs, checking my map to ascertain highway numbers, watching for crazies, while working my way through traffic. Wishing I had a co-pilot. But other than five times of turning around, uncertain I was on the right path, it was mostly uneventful. Honestly: two of the looping turns were extras, I just didn't see the signs and wanted to be sure I was headed down the right highway. So we can either say three or five, and three does give the appearance of me being more capable of getting myself where I want to go.
They did not meet me at the lodge, though I was thankful for a warm, un-windy place to wait for them to drive down from TN. They called and said: Where are you? And I reported that I was right where I was supposed to be. We got connected, meeting in the parking lot to start the five mile walk up to the Len Foote Hike Inn.
My Christmas gift. I'd been pestering them for months, no - maybe years - to 'let's plan to go to the Hike Inn'. So I finally just gave up on waiting till they could get organized, make plans to be off from work, and get their ducks in a row. Told them back in the fall: 'I give up. I'm just going to pick a time, make reservations to stay overnight and you can go or not'. Then they surprised me, totally surprised, completely unexpected: a gift at Christmas. So I had three months to think, plan, get excited as well as prepare myself to walk a great distance.
I've been practicing. Had several days when I actually walked five miles, just to prove I could do it. Even though the places I have been walking around here are much easier on the feets, legs, body, brain than the trek up into the mountains. After the first mile or so (thankfully there were mile markers to let one know of progress made - or maybe not thankfully - as it would at times seem like I'd just seen that same marker and 'was I walking in circles?') as my feets began to get weary I needed some encouragement. So I started telling myself: 'all you have to do is walk to the end of the street'. Meaning the street I live on, where the end is .7 miles from my mailbox. I have a route that is two miles, to the end of the street, down a cul de sac in a neighborhood, and back home again.
So I just kept saying, my little mantra: All you have to do is walk to the end of the street. It apparently worked. I got there and back again.
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