What can I do today? I could play in the dusting of snow that has covered my car. You know it snowed here this morning? Its not enough to be scared of to drive in. But it does remind me of previous winters in upstate New York. I used to be so scared of driving in the snow. It didn’t start until I drove home from D’s house one day on the highway, pretty secure that if I drove slowly, I would be fine all the way home. And then I did a 180… maybe it ended up being a 220, because I ended up in a very strange position, facing who knows what direction. Only cars in the opposite direction were on the road, and one guy checked to make sure I was ok. And I was. Just ready to pee in my pants. I was able to keep going. Driving at a snails pace, barely able to see behind my tears of histeria, I vibrated in fear all the way home.
When I got home, my roomate listened to me whine about how scary driving in the snow is. But she lived through the same experience several years before. So she laughed. “You just gotta know what your doing.” So that day, she forced me to learn.
We went to a large snow covered parking lot around the corner from our place. It was 3 o’clock and the sun was setting. So the air was a yellowy purple. And the ground, an unending field of white.
This was fun in an uncontrolled rollar coaster kind of way. I had to push the accelorator hard, to hit the breaks hard, to let myself skid. And also somehow got to make my car slide left and right. And fishtail. And avoid the trees. Oh, and she had me drive backwards. I don’t remember why. It was like real life bumper cars, just with one car and an open field.
So in summary, yes it helped me know what to expect. But I still hate driving in the snow. Driving and skiing. I will stick with walking.
Or moving to Hawaii.
“Good morning, your breakfast is on its way.”
“Ok, thank you,” I mumbled back to the receptionist, fighting my eyes to open enough.
Stumbled out of bed to let the room service guy in and out. Then we ate breakfast quickly, with our eyes still closed. And ran around packing up in low light.
The boat was leaving in 20 minutes, and we needed to get off before then.
It was still dark like night in the city of Hamilton. We checked with a sleepy customs officer that it was not supposed to rain during day. Then we walked slowly to the bus depot. A half hour before the 7am bus, we were in the awkward place of not wanting to hang out in the dark streets and not wanting to hang out at the bus depot. So instead we stood near the depot. Stood at the entrance way to a large building, lit up in a bright pink color and I just stared at its fountain.
We climbed onto the unlit Bermudan bus once it arrived. Bus was full with students and hospital workers. Soothingly, the bus driver did not turn on the light during the whole journey. So cozy. And when people got on, they would mumble/greet, “Good morning everybody.”
The bus left the depot and drove through dawn. Across town, along the south shore of the Island as the sun started its ascent. Dave and I were keeping track of a map, trying to figure out the correct place to get off the bus.
Of course it wasn’t the right place. Mostly because I felt too stubborn or too shy to ask. So when we got off, and passed two bus stop sections during our stroll, I felt kind of bad.
But, we walked. Lots of palm trees, lots of small grass covered sidewalks. Cool, clean air. Few runners passing us. And then, the entrance. Walked down a sidewalk and found a secret pathway, cutting through forest/beachlike vegitation with sand under my feet. And Dave stopped every few minutes to take a picture of the sun rising. I was complaining because I wanted to see the sun on the water, but I knew the pictures would be worth it.
I decided to run down myself, down, up and out. And then beach. Horseshoe Bay. Pink sand and rising sun.
Long, wide beach, completely empty. It would become more populated 3 hours later. But it didn’t matter, because we kept walking.
I’ve been hiking in the woods many times. Walked in between trees, in mud or dry soil. I’ve never hiked in the sand in flip flops overlooking the ocean! I’ve also never seen marathons of ants in several separate highways parallel to eachother. It was fun at first messing up their paths, “Bridge collapse on highway 267. 2,000 ant pile up, no casualties. Traffic flow continued as ants rerouted into side roads.”
And then the rest of the hiking was done to the theme song “Ants go marching in, hoorah, hoorah, ants go marching two by two hoorah, hoorah!”
As we were investigating the main pathway that led away from the main beach, found some really cool spots. The path was leading on an incline, so in order to get to any beaches, one would have to climb down. So physical labor excersized to walk out onto a 100 foot, completely secluded beachfront. Rocks you could sit in. Caves. But not enough space for sunlight. Too many tall rock towers. But the next place we found was much longer, and open. But it was still secluded. And here began the setting for the most beautiful day.
