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.
2 comments:
very nice
Do they also have six-inch nails sticking straight up out of the ground on the trails in Eaton Hollow, waiting patiently for some poor sap to come along and ruin his boots and lead to an encounter with the local sheriff who, like his fellow resident logger, attempts to respond to a simple plea for help with a complex answer while the whole time the solution was holstered on his belt?
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