From State Park to Hampton Inn

After I got Reggie the Rig back I walked for several miles here around Winter Garden where I live. Of course, the roads and walkways are smooth, level, flat. Satisfied, I drove with my son, Sam, back to the last point and began my walk again. I walked into Anastasia State Park slightly south of St. Augustine. All was well. I was fully loaded and rolling easily and smoothly. Again, I must mention here that the sidewalk was paved, level and flat. I feared I would hit sand when I left the main road to roll to my campsite but, much to my delight, the road was paved the entire way.

Hooray!!!

I pitched my tent and settled down for the afternoon. It was 3 in the afternoon. Now what?

I would like to stop here and talk about solitude. My deep dreams of how great solitude is. Or at least, how great I THOUGHT it would be. I was completely unprepared for the experience of total and complete solitude. And if the truth be told, which it will be here, I was not completely alone for I had Jack the dog with me and other campers I could have interacted with. I was not completely alone. Had I not had Jack with me I would have settled down with my Kindle and read the afternoon away. What a great distraction! But my 7 month old Jack the dog believes she was created to be in constant communication/interaction with me. She does not like my Kindle so reading for me was out of the question. I had to keep her leashed at all times or she would have made it home to her nice soft bed in no time, leaving me out in the wilds all alone.

So I couldn't distract myself with reading. We humans are so uncomfortable with ourselves, so queasy and uneasy that we are always in search of distractions. The distractions are so built into our make-up that we are not even aware what comfort they provide. The obvious things are checking email, watching tv, listening to the radio, shopping, sleeping, preparing and eating food. Even sitting quietly and filing our nails is a distraction. We make lists, fold clothes, pull weeds...anything to avoid feeling that uneasiness.

Have you ever talked to people who have returned from a vision quest of some type and had to spend time alone in the woods or desert. Each one, without exception, say that the solitary time was nearly unbearable. I've always found that interesting because that was one reason I was doing the walk, to have some one on one time with Mother Nature. I thought having the opportunity to sit alone with nothing to do would be absolutely perfect. I thought something must be deeply flawed within other people who couldn't tolerate the magic and wonder of being alone in nature.

Be careful what you ask for.....I couldn't wait to go to bed that night.

Next morning I packed up and prepared to leave. I had found a rehab center on my route and had called ahead to see if I could visit and though they seemed less than enthusiastic the was MY plan so Jack and I took off for the more than 7 mile walk. The first couple miles were fine, the walkway paved, flat, level - easy peasy. When I got out of the state park and headed north up A1A toward St. Augustine, the travel became increasingly difficult. I was walking in the business area and driveway after driveway after driveway meant lots of ups and downs, lots of pushing with one arm and pulling with the other to keep the whole gypsy circus performers, which is what we must have looked like, on the sidewalk and out of the road. With many short breaks, I finally I made it to the bridge that crosses the intercoastal waterway. The bridge is called the Bridge of Lions and I would be roaring like one when I finally got over to the other side.



The city had thoughtfully put a pedestrian walkway over the bridge, but as I neared the top, where the drawbridge machinery was located, I realized, WITH HORROR, that the walkway narrowed and I couldn't push my rig through. I was stuck...well, not really for God is good and there was a tiny patch of concrete for me to turn around the entire circus and head back down the bridge. Then I pushed the entire contraption out onto the TINY two-lane road and pushed up and over the bridge, in the traffic, once again. BUT I made it. It was tough but we did it!!!!

On the other side I rested, ate an energy bar (perhaps I should have eaten it prior to the bridge climb), and began again, walking along the intercoastal and through the oldest city in America, feeling and probably looking like the oldest woman in America.

 

 

 

 

 

Some time later I arrived at the rehab facility, drug my spent and sweaty self inside to meet some of the residents. The staff observed me with some trepidation for I probably appeared to be a resident myself. Jack the dog, who also had just walked 7.7 miles has as much energy as she had prior to our journey. WOW...the glory of youth. But as for me, I was certain I had done some damage to my newly repaired shoulder. I was completely exhausted and knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I could not push that thing the next day.

 

I left the rehab center and walked across the street directly into a Hampton Inn.