Skilled Cats Kill

It would of course happen that on the last time I ever have to set up my tent, in the tranquil setting of the garden of someone we’re staying with surrounded by deer roaming around the woodland, wild turkeys warbling away, and of course mosquitoes buzzing incessantly around my head, that my sleeping pad pops. Not in the expected air leaking way, but rather annoyingly the internal stitching, which has left a huge bulge on one side, and which will no doubt lead to a very disturbed night’s sleep. I suppose I should feel fortunate that my equipment has only started to fail at the very end of the trip, and while I was still faced with months of sleeping on this lop-sided pad. Still, I can’t help but feel a slight twinge of irritation that this rather expensive component of mine has for the second time on the trip decided to break.

Tonight at least does feel a good bit warmer than yesterday- the air was decidedly chilly when I woke up this morning, and of course everything soaking wet. But, as we tucked into a breakfast of leftovers from the bake sale, and watched the local youth American Football team train on the pitch that we were camped by, the tents hung drying in the warming sun and gentle breeze.

As someone new to the sport (and indeed who finds watching just about any sport to be a strange and trivial waste of time), American football is an especially odd game- not least of all when played by children. With kids thrashing out against each over and barely able to keep upright for more than 5 seconds past the whistle, football seems little more than organised bullying. Not to suggest that it isn’t a tough game full of skill and strategy, but for me, watching them crash into each other and go toppling, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Much to the annoyance and glaring of one of the coaches.

The ride today was once again a gentle and enjoyable run through the rolling hills and country side of the Hudson Valley. Starting off heading through Catskill (what an amazing name), and across the Rip Van Winkle bridge over the Hudson, the story of which was set in this area.
Lunch today was a rather simple affair- not spotting anywhere more suitable to pull over and take a break, we stopped off in a cemetery which offered at least a quiet little area to sit down on a wall. Here at least we were able to relax in the sun for a moment, continuing through our stockpile of brownies, cakes and cookies that we were given from those friendly democrats last night.

New York City is only two days away now. I’m very conscious that every day now I’m counting down the days until the end of America, and the end of the trip. I guess it’s a mixture of the excitement and fear, of sorts. I’ve always looked forward in a way to that feeling of having finished what I set out to do, and what I’ve been dreaming about for a few years now. But now that the end is all but upon me, I have this sense of fear, and a slight feeling of nausea. It could be because of the sense that everything that I feel that I am is coming to a close….

Equally likely though, is the possibility that after dinner I stuffed my face with too many of those stale cookies leftover from last night….

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  1. Yep, gluttony will often do that! Hope you enjoy every minute of the remaining days Mate.

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