We visited my parents last weekend. It was great to finally see them again. We spent most of the weekend just catching up. Otherwise we didn’t do much except take a few walks. That was fine by me. I was tired and needed some quiet time.
They lent me their car, which I drove home with Livia while my husband drove home in the truck with Marshall (kids can’t fight each other for the whole trip if they’re not in the same vehicle!). I am so relieved to finally have a reliable car to drive. My parents said we can keep it for as long as we need it, but I hope to return it to them by Christmas.
The drive home was stressful. It took about 6 hours, thanks to traffic. I don’t think I’d ever driven myself through mountains before, and I found the downhill curves to be alarming. Everyone else on the highway was calmly maintaining speed, but I had to hit the brakes almost every time, because my brain was screaming, “OMG, slow down slow down slow down!”
But the drive through Franconia Notch was wonderful. It looked more gorgeous than I’d ever seen it before, a stunning contrast of fiery autumn foliage and cool misty clouds. That view alone made the long drive worthwhile. If I’d had time to spare, I would have stopped there and spent a few days just wandering around, soaking up the scenery.
I feel that downhill panic on the bike. Everyone else is like, “Woo hoo!” and I’m all, “Can I creep down it with my feet on the ground like a push bike?”
I feel that downhill panic on the bike. Everyone else is like, “Woo hoo!” and I’m all, “Can I creep down it with my feet on the ground like a push bike?”
I hear that. As much as playing it safe made me feel like a wimp, I stand by my decision to brake. Gravity is powerful and unforgiving.