18 Hours In The Adirondacks: Part I

This is insanity. This is absurd. This is not the best idea. This is how I live every single day.
The red glare of the clock reads 3:32am. The green digital display of the clock on the other side of the room reads 3:34am. We’re in the ballpark, let the adventure begin. I toss the essentials onto the front seat of my car and wad up a few items of clothing and shove them in my backpack. Journal, cameras, matches, deodorant, toothbrush, boxers, pillow. I need not much more than those things when on an adventure. I hopped in my car, who if I recall, was given the name Semper while en route to Long Island back in April. I’m not particularly a fan of the name, but he is named and that is that. We first headed north and then east… then north once again. The cool summer night left my mind open as the air raced through the open windows. Solitude. I love driving and would dare say it is in my top ten favorite things to do. I spend many hours in my car and do a great deal of my thinking while driving. The stresses of the day seem to collapse in the rear view mirror. I drive.

The night began to fade as I traversed the Adirondacks, but so did my energy. Upon reaching this point, I had slept a maximum of seven to eight hours over the last seven to eight days. Sleep and I have not been friends lately. I lie awake stressing and thinking in weights no man should carry. When I finally sleep, I awake with terror and anxiety. I am delusional for about ten minutes as I freak out and just pray for it to all end. It never ends.

Around 5:47am, I was finally able to convince my stubborn self that swerving and dodging guard rails was not the best way to handle the situation. Throughout the Adirondacks, there are plenty of pull-off areas begging to share their company with weary travelers such as myself. At the next pull-off, I slowed Semper to a stop and bid him goodnight. I crawled to the passenger seat and maneuvered my way into my sleeping bag, with oddly enough, great difficulty. I blame it on my lack of caring at that point. With the sun stretching for the oncoming day, I relieve my eyes of their duty and hope they thank me for doing so.

Part II soon.
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