It is that time. The annual camping trip is about to happen. Due to a lack of initiative and a general satisfaction with the 2010 outcome we are repeating our location in the Helen, Ga area. This is almost unprecedented. Only Pigeon Mt. has ever repeated, and it dominated like the 1990’s Los Angeles Lakers for a while.
This time last year I went on the trip unsure if I could maintain my physical and mental health for an entire weekend away from my safe house. I was in a whirlwind romance with yoga and clean living, but still prone to debilitating attacks of late night demons and harpies. Vicodin, stay away from it. Embrace the pain instead.
This year, my romance with yoga is more of a weathered affair, comfortable with more smolder than magic. I have a new love to share this year, because what is a Cheaha trip without a major life change to announce? Nothing if you are me. This time I will be with my squeeze, my special lady-friend. 3 days with 20 some random strangers in the woods, many of them drunk, should really seal the deal for us. I am a romantic man. She tells me this all of the time.
I am not going to mention the bike at all. To talk about my mutant strength and endless wind is to invite disaster. It is better to be humble in all things, and believe me, right now? I am a humbled and grateful man.