Windham Mountain High

I finally made it up to my fathers ski condo in Windham, NY.  Even if only for a couple of days it was peace on earth.  The lamb and the lion chilling together got nothing on this experience.  

You step on to the porch and immediately BAM-mountains for days.  Looking forward, a small pond houses countless bullfrogs croaking back and forth to each other like two Jewish women kvetching over latkas and kugel.

  
I gazed upon this while drinking my morning coffee poetically enough out of a Red Rocks mug.  Steps away, the hot tub purred and I thought this is the perfect place to not think…..wait, stop thinking.  Stop thinking even about thinking.

The town has carved a trail that leads to civilization and we walked it to earn our morning goddess omelette at Higher Grounds, an artisanal coffee/breakfast/all around chacki shop.  A concoction consisting of eggs, feta cheese, tomatoes, and avocado.  The rye toast was fresh and thick.  I recommend it to anyone looking for a quick nosh before an active day.

 

A Trail Of Countless Possibilities

 
They’ve built several new bridges.  The names are up for grabs for the meager price of $5,000, $10,000 or $25,000.  Someone hurry and win the lottery so we can have some fun with this.  I wouldn’t mind the thought of equally hiring a live action troll to live underneath one.

Before seeing Jurassic World-I am not ashamed to say for me my second time I beat my father at a friendly game of Skeeball.  All of those countless hours in the basement of a Brother Jimmies midtown east playing the arcade game competitively have finally paid off.  We also stopped by a local pub with an amazing craft beer selection called Cave Mountain.  I opted to try the flight which showcases their popular brews.  The honey blonde was my favorite and not just because it could equally be used to describe me.  I have found my beer soulmate next to a machine that dispenses fireball shots.  Color me classy.

  
So much cinnamon whiskey, so little time.

  
Notice my expert tan line.  I would like to use my red line farmers tan as a PSA to all ladies out there on the market for vintage swim wear.  

And as we always have and always will-we hike.  Quietly crossing muddy rocks this is our comfort zone.  Finding our way to a half broken lean to we sit.

Silence.

  
Circa 1989.  I am already being escorted on hikes although I’m pretty sure I’m more invested in them now then I was then.

  
And for good measure I added a rainbow for so many reasons.  Nature is our safe space.  I can think of worse things.

When I first arrived I found two pieces of my past.  One-my annotated high school copy of Walden.  Underlined with notes…..I didn’t understand the value of solitude then.  Now, looking back having a hoard of high schoolers annotate Walden is not going to teach them anything.  It’s not until ten years later when life has been triumphant, lagging, difficult, euphoric, and a great many other adjectives that the value of silence, of nature is understood.

Secondly, I found a journal I had to keep in English class at the age of fourteen.  There were many weird and fascinating passages but two in particular that made me uncomfortable.
   
 

Nostradamus was my favorite.

People are interesting creatures.

I understand why my father calls this place his fortress of solitude.  Everyone needs a place to go when they feel as though they might fall apart.  Mine just happens to be an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

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