I went for a beautiful hike a couple weeks ago which led to hours of reflection, as hiking usually does for me. The Franconia Notch area of New Hampshire is a phenomenal place for hiking – several trails of different degrees of difficulty wind through the White Mountains. It is a popular recreational destination, but it wasn’t too crowded with tourists that day so I had plenty of time alone on the trail. I had driven to Vermont the day before to have dinner with my brother and sister-in-law and hit Franconia on the way home. That made for several hours of driving, but I’m getting used to that in this area. Just as I was lacing my hiking boots thunder began to rumble and by the time I started on the trail it began to rain. Fortunately, the worst of the storm never passed directly overhead so I got a little damp but not soaking wet. The day revolved around this hike and I wasn’t going to let the rain put an end to the excursion, however I wasn’t excited about the prospect of trudging ten miles, soaking wet. After half an hour the rain clouds passed and the rest of the hike was dry; I was thankful for that.
The trek was a little more difficult than I was expecting but that served to invigorate, not discourage me. At times I was climbing the steep rock-face with hands and feet, made more perilous by the fact that everything was still wet and slick from the rain; it was turning into somewhat of an adventure. There were two mountains to climb; this was the first one and by far the more challenging. The second was still a workout, but had a much easier path to navigate. I stopped for lunch at the top of the first mountain. As I sat there eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich at 4000 feet with a 360-degree view of the mountains it dawned on me that this is it – this is my nirvana.
I continued along the path and began thinking about this past year and the things I’ve discovered about myself and what makes me tick. The first observation was that when possible and time allows, I’ve begun avoiding the interstates and taking the back roads instead. In the past, country highways tended to make me carsick; now I zip down them all the time. I did just that for this particular trip. Normally I would take the major highways to Vermont, actually going out of the way to avoid the smaller roads. This time I went straight through the mountains and even though it took longer, it was a much more enjoyable and scenic. Likewise, my new job involves a long commute, about forty-five minutes when I take the interstate. I usually do that in the morning but I’ve started exploring other ways to get home. My favorite so far runs along side a river for several miles then turns and goes right past one of the better local parks for hiking. I may have to strap a canoe to the car or bring my boots and a change of clothes and start getting some exercise on the way home. This route may take a few minutes longer, but it is a nice way to wind down after a workday.
The second discovery, or perhaps confession in this case, is that I like to drive. I’m finding that I don’t mind driving an hour to get somewhere, as long as there isn’t any traffic. And by traffic I mean more than a couple cars on the road with me. On the down side it seems politically incorrect to spend unnecessary time driving, even considering I own a hybrid. I like to think of myself as being environmentally conscientious, yet I enjoy tooling around in my car. I can listen to the news or talk shows or belt out songs with the radio or a CD. When traveling greater distances I’ll listen to a book on tape. It’s ironic that I have often complained about having to drive a couple hours to get anywhere in Maine, yet often the drive ends up being a very pleasant part of the trip. When I lived in the city I preferred to use the car as little as possible; now I realize that it was traffic I was avoiding, not my car. Also, as I alluded to earlier, I like hiking. Driving and hiking are part of the reason I like living in different places as opposed to just visiting – I can hit the roads and the trails and really explore an area.
Finally, I’ve come to realize how much I like wide, open spaces. Around here the houses are pretty well spread apart unless you live right in town. I like the idea of sitting out in the backyard and looking at trees and not seeing the neighbors. I loved living in California, though now when I go back there to visit the neighborhoods seem so crowded. The noise, traffic, litter, etc. are overwhelming. Now that I’ve been here awhile, I’m beginning to envision myself in a little house out in the country surrounded by a few acres of woods and pastures. The hustle and bustle of the city holds a lot of appeal for me and I’ve always envisioned myself living in town and escaping to the country from time-to-time. Now I’m considering the opposite – living in the country and escaping to the city when I need some excitement, neighborhoods, nightlife and decent Mexican food.
The back roads, a cabin in the country, mountain hikes, throw in the fact that one of my favorite social outlets is two-stepping and it becomes apparent – I’m a freakin’ hillbilly. So it’s no wonder I’ve struggled to feel settled anywhere - I’ve always considered myself a city boy when in reality I’m a closet hick.
Taking
this into consideration, I went on to think about my ideal living situation.
First, I’m beginning to see myself in a cozy, log cabin (is that an oxymoron?).
There are numerous old houses all through New England and whereas I find them
charming and full of character, they also strike me as a lot of upkeep and a
constant financial drain. I’d prefer something I own instead of something that
owns me. Second, I don’t think I’d want to invest in a place by myself. I’m
just a little leery of being too isolated and becoming one of those recluses
that sends strange packages to government offices every time I feel my privacy
is threatened. A significant other, one or more roommates, it doesn’t matter,
it would just be nice to have someone to build a home with instead of doing it
on my own.
Next I began to work out the floor plan for the house. It started with a common living area in the middle. I envisioned a rustic looking, though thoroughly modern, kitchen that opens to a dining area able to accommodate at least eight people. The other half of the space would house the living room with an oversized leather sofa, entertainment center, etc. A giant fireplace would divide the two sections. It would run on natural gas both for environmental reasons as well as ease of use. There’d be two bedrooms and a bath on either side which would accommodate myself and housemates, plus a room for guests. Next I began to expand off the rear of the house. Since we’d be a ways out of a town, it might be nice to have a recreation room with a ping-pong table, a little gym, a Jacuzzi…When I started pondering where the indoor tennis court would go I realized I have a ways to go before I can say I’ve internalized the hillbilly lifestyle.
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