Snow Day

We just returned from a quick trip to Chinatown and the Reading Terminal. God bless snow days. God bless Uber. Neither one of us felt like taking our cars out, but we both wanted to get out of the house for Dim Sum and fresh lemons.

Yesterday, I ventured to Brendan’s with Matt to watch the AFC title game. I was happy my Broncos conference play succeeded. A few of Brendan’s buddies were there and we were all equally relieved to get out of the house, stop shoveling, and watch some football.

Saturday was the day we got hit with the storm. The previous night, I ventured to the movies to watch “Anomalisa” and when I returned home, I shoveled the front and dusted off the car. By the time I left the house on Saturday afternoon to shovel again, we had at least another fifteen inches of fresh powder on the ground. I dug a walking path on our sidewalk and the neighboring sidewalks as well. Denise cooked a lot – from hot chocolate to stuffed squash to fondue pretzels, she went all out and took care of us.

Break Trips

In Chambersburg, you turn the light on and off with a switch. In Eaton Hollow, you rely on daylight, fireplaces, lanterns, and flash lights (sometimes you even wear one on your head).

In Chambersburg, you adjust the water temperature from 85 to 90 by nudging a dial. When you’re finished with the shower, you point the head to the left so the next person gets sprayed when they turn it on. In Eaton Hollow, we didn’t shower.

In Chambersburg, we sat on our beds, watching television and drinking beer. In Eaton Hollow, we sat around the fireplace, having conversations and playing games.

In Chambersburg, if you had to go to the bathroom, you took a few steps. In Eaton Hollow, you walked fifty yards to the outhouse or peed on a tree.

In Chambersburg, we never turned on the heat. The temperature was comfortable enough with intermittent rain. In Eaton Hollow, we were drier and colder. There was no heat dial. You threw wood on the fire and chopped wood the following day.

A week ago today, on December 27, we took a long hike. We encountered a lumberjack and asked for his advice on pleasant sights nearby.

“Well, hell, I just don’t think we have anything like that. There’s a golf course that my daddy runs about 45 minutes away.”

“Oh well, at least we asked,” I thought.

“And, there’s the largest reservoir in the mid-Atlantic region about a half mile down the road.”

It’s incredible how he mentioned that last.

Chopping wood and wearing a flashlight on my head were two things I had never done before Eaton Hollow. Now, I look forward to doing them again.

In Chambersburg, the walk from the car to our room measured roughly forty yards. In Eaton Hollow, our walk wasn’t a walk. Our walk was a mile long hike – a winding trek that included alternating terrain: twisting woods, steep hills, and damp, leaf covered paths.

In this way, hiking was an inherent part of the Eaton Hollow trip whereas in Chambersburg, we needed to make a conscious effort to find a place to hike. In both places, setting out for hikes was done in a whimsical nature. We sort of knew where we wanted to go, but the specifics were shady.

With all these differences, I would not choose one trip over the other. I would not judge them. I will simply say they were both enjoyable and if I could go back in time, I would not change anything. I would go on each trip and let each evolve as they did: with plenty of laughs, imbibements, and spiritual moments along the way.