Saturday, September 4th, 2010
Sometimes my mind is like a lobster: it will follow the odor of some rancid thought right into the trap where it will swim in circles for hours, unable and unwilling to drop the bait and move on to something else. Today the trap is set by an obese man squeezed in behind the steering wheel of a 1970's era wood-panelled station wagon. I'm in the mountains, slowly grinding up some steep grades; and he's really upset that he has to wait for me because there is too much traffic to pass me. I could pull over but the way he's leaning on the horn...fuck'em let him wait. His fat face is puffed up and red like a blowfish when he finally gets by me.
I spend the next hour fantasizing about stepping on his face or setting his station wagon on fire until I've worked myself into a thoroughly bad mood -- then it occurs to me, oh yeah, lobster, trap, etc... I decide to stop for an early lunch to take my mind off of it. I find a beautiful spot next to a small waterfall where I cook up some pasta with tuna and vegetables. Bright sunshine, full stomach, balance is restored to the universe.
It's a beautiful day, still quite warm; I'm enjoying sweating up the hills. The grades are steep but the climbs don't last all that long. I swing to the north to check out a trail that supposedly can be cycled through the Catskills. I find it but the railroad ties have not been removed, it's too rough for this bike and all the weight I am carrying. I backtrack and go west again. Late in the day I'm following a river through forests and the occasional small town.
I head for a campground that's marked on my map. I find it but no one is there to check me in. I walk around but the place is deserted. Eventually I run into a woman who tells me to just set up camp, if the guy shows up you can pay him something, she says, otherwise don't worry about it. Fair enough. I pitch the tent at the edge of a secluded field and make dinner. As of bedtime no one has come by to see me. The skies open up with pouring rain after 10pm.