Since Summer I opened a bakery, made a best friend, fell in love. The bakery was open just long enough to curb my fall hiking plans, but satisfied one of those nagging urges you think about constantly until you finally give in. At 36, I'm too old to be working my ass off for nothing so it closed within a couple of months.
The bakery was situated in a country store owned by Maryanne, a near empty-nester who was kind enough to let me live in her yard and use her shower until the snow came. We had a strangely large number of things in common despite our age difference and spent night and day together for months. I hadn't had a really close friend in years, and I will always look back on those months with great fondness.
During that time I met someone with whom I also had a lot in common and we quickly fell in love. But as all good things do, our relationship ended, and with the snow falling I decided it was time to unbury the camper and get out of the cold.
Driving West was the only option since the South has no mountains, but first I wanted to return to Florida to visit my family. I left New Hampshire on a Friday afternoon and drove straight for 20 hours to South Carolina, where I finally crashed in a hotel at 11am on Saturday morning. I hadn't yet told my parents I was coming so when I walked in their door Sunday afternoon their surprise was evident.
I spent a week in Florida before leaving on Sunday for Phoenix. Since I can only travel on weekends I stopped in Duson, Louisiana (about an hour West of Baton Rouge) for a week, which is where I am now.
The town is non-existent save for 2-3 casino-gas stations, a Super 8, the campground where I am staying, and the horse coral across the street. Upon arrival the coral was full and noisy and made the town appear lived in. Since, the buzz around town (i.e., the gas station next door and the lady in the adjacent RV) speculates the coral was more alarming than festive. A woman and child may have been run over (by vehicle or hoof, I don't know) and airlifted to a nearby hospital, and as a result, someone else may have been shot, the killer still on the loose. Boredom can inspire vivid imagination...
Campgrounds in Phoenix are primarily 55+, and the ones that are not are either full or in seemingly bad parts of town, so it looks like I will heading to New Mexico instead this coming weekend. Can't wait to finally climb a mountain again!
