Deep Creek Lake; July 3rd and 4th
We arrive at Deep Creek Lake around 3pm thanks to the sheer determination and triumphant velocity of Providence, our '05 Trailblazer. Invigorated with the realization that we've finally worked in a vacation, a sigh in the midst of chaos, our minds scramble in excitement with the possibilities laid before us. Our gracious hosts; Missy's grandma, her brother John, uncle chuck, uncle jordan and aunt carol welcome us to the slowed pace and lengthened seconds Deep Creek vacations provide. We accept the welcome, easing into the moment with hopes of dragging it out the duration of our stay. After settling in we lose all focus and concentration and find ourselves in our bathing suits, walking down the steep grade to the lakefront. A few months ago we were making snow angels on this same frozen lake, and now we head to swim in it acknowledging the same flakes of snow transformed from Missy's and Jordan's angels were now mixed with the thousands of other gallons. I see the heightened sparkle as the sun bounces off the rippling wake, and I know our angles are still with us.
We dip our toes and ripples extend our touch across the lake, concentrated shock as the cold water cools our blood as its pumped from our feet back to our hearts - the chills follow the cooled blood and we're instantly refreshed.
We go in for a few dips, our cooled blood splashed in our hearts with the same childish glee we display in the water.
We return to the lodge, a 2 story loft surrounded by identical lodges, only differentiated by number. The modest amenities suit the lake and its surroundings; anything more opulent would be a distraction from the real purpose of vacation: to live life with freedom of choice.
I choose to crack open a few beers, take a shower and let the idea of freedom of responsibility wash over me as I consciously forget about work, yardwork, home repairs, financial burden, and precious life goals - all these can wait for now.
John wants to leave early tomorrow morning with no apparent reason, its fine with us but I still wanted to catch up and enjoy his company. My circadian rhythms have slowed enabling me to maintain sharp focus on multiple things at the same time, considering everything in my surroundings and breathing in the sweetness so that I may carry it along with me extending this vacation.
We sit by the water and his words are like a flowing stream, bumbling forward with little sign of any clearing. He may see everything at once like I mentioned, but nothing is considered, just said. I was able to dam the flow of these words with a few remarks on introspection and creating goals but it continued and always will. This is John; everything thought is said. its certainly a power, a gift if discipline was involved, but atleast he's passionate. Uninhibited and passionate.
He wants to go out. We head to the Honi Honi, get an expensive pitcher of beer and find a table under the twinkling sky. We talk about a lot of things and grab the interest of a fellow security gaurd, of whom John gives advice. We go on a hunt for some wings, which was a fun walk around some storefronts, all closed.
The first half day was nice. Uncoiling from the stress of the week. I sink heavily into the bed, relaxing all but the elevated corners of my mouth as if my smile kept approving of this situation long after my body succumbed to rest. We'll continue tomorrow.
Our only full day begins with a few eggs and some juice, nourishing the ideas and encouraging life. We stop at a local store, an expensive local store for some ingredients for dinner. I prepare our bikes as Miss prepares our picnic lunch. Its a 5 mile ride from the lodge to the beach - the idea alone makes me breathe deep and dilates my pupils revealing the pleasure I get from such activities.
Bikes are ready, lunch (peanut butter and onions for me, PB & J for miss) is ready, we toss some towels in a backpack, throw on our helmets and after a little jaunt around the parking lot we're off.
The sky is deep cerulean, but the amazing part is the skyline. The sloping mountains extend their reach to the heavens with confident trees, standing tall and proud - nipping at the clouds, bathing in sun. Their tops look soft and pillowy like a giant could reach down and scoop up a handful, holding it up to his nose he would let the scent of nature and wilderness envelope him. I am this giant, and my trees are these blades of grass.
We bike across a bridge glancing down the lake-created corridor. We increase in speed to make it up a few substantial hills. A fellow cyclist rides by saying hi, I acknowledge with a smile, and he continues to pass miss with a different message saying, "wrong side of the road!" We collected ourselves and continued up. The 5 miles went by too quick even though we took our time, the scenery cannot be expressed through a photograph, it has to be experienced. The scent of the wind rushing by, the contrast of blue, glistening lake to green mountain sides to deep blue skies. The rush of cars passing, the excitement of increased speed, the ever improving confidence of our abilities. This is living. This is our vacation.
We glide to the beach, park our bikes, lock them up and unfurl our towels on the unrefined sand. Large pebbles mixed with golden sand seems unique and catches our fellow vacationers off guard as they ask each other "why did they put rocks in the sand!?"
Miss and I giggle quietly. We cool off in the waters, almost as magical as the Ganges, without the fear of dysentery. We find our spot and claim it with our belongings. We lay down, the sand conforms to our shape. We conform to the surroundings, shirtless, smiling, quiet conversation slipping in and out of our minds.
We arrive at Deep Creek Lake around 3pm thanks to the sheer determination and triumphant velocity of Providence, our '05 Trailblazer. Invigorated with the realization that we've finally worked in a vacation, a sigh in the midst of chaos, our minds scramble in excitement with the possibilities laid before us. Our gracious hosts; Missy's grandma, her brother John, uncle chuck, uncle jordan and aunt carol welcome us to the slowed pace and lengthened seconds Deep Creek vacations provide. We accept the welcome, easing into the moment with hopes of dragging it out the duration of our stay. After settling in we lose all focus and concentration and find ourselves in our bathing suits, walking down the steep grade to the lakefront. A few months ago we were making snow angels on this same frozen lake, and now we head to swim in it acknowledging the same flakes of snow transformed from Missy's and Jordan's angels were now mixed with the thousands of other gallons. I see the heightened sparkle as the sun bounces off the rippling wake, and I know our angles are still with us.
We dip our toes and ripples extend our touch across the lake, concentrated shock as the cold water cools our blood as its pumped from our feet back to our hearts - the chills follow the cooled blood and we're instantly refreshed.
We go in for a few dips, our cooled blood splashed in our hearts with the same childish glee we display in the water.
We return to the lodge, a 2 story loft surrounded by identical lodges, only differentiated by number. The modest amenities suit the lake and its surroundings; anything more opulent would be a distraction from the real purpose of vacation: to live life with freedom of choice.
I choose to crack open a few beers, take a shower and let the idea of freedom of responsibility wash over me as I consciously forget about work, yardwork, home repairs, financial burden, and precious life goals - all these can wait for now.
John wants to leave early tomorrow morning with no apparent reason, its fine with us but I still wanted to catch up and enjoy his company. My circadian rhythms have slowed enabling me to maintain sharp focus on multiple things at the same time, considering everything in my surroundings and breathing in the sweetness so that I may carry it along with me extending this vacation.
We sit by the water and his words are like a flowing stream, bumbling forward with little sign of any clearing. He may see everything at once like I mentioned, but nothing is considered, just said. I was able to dam the flow of these words with a few remarks on introspection and creating goals but it continued and always will. This is John; everything thought is said. its certainly a power, a gift if discipline was involved, but atleast he's passionate. Uninhibited and passionate.
He wants to go out. We head to the Honi Honi, get an expensive pitcher of beer and find a table under the twinkling sky. We talk about a lot of things and grab the interest of a fellow security gaurd, of whom John gives advice. We go on a hunt for some wings, which was a fun walk around some storefronts, all closed.
The first half day was nice. Uncoiling from the stress of the week. I sink heavily into the bed, relaxing all but the elevated corners of my mouth as if my smile kept approving of this situation long after my body succumbed to rest. We'll continue tomorrow.
Our only full day begins with a few eggs and some juice, nourishing the ideas and encouraging life. We stop at a local store, an expensive local store for some ingredients for dinner. I prepare our bikes as Miss prepares our picnic lunch. Its a 5 mile ride from the lodge to the beach - the idea alone makes me breathe deep and dilates my pupils revealing the pleasure I get from such activities.
Bikes are ready, lunch (peanut butter and onions for me, PB & J for miss) is ready, we toss some towels in a backpack, throw on our helmets and after a little jaunt around the parking lot we're off.
The sky is deep cerulean, but the amazing part is the skyline. The sloping mountains extend their reach to the heavens with confident trees, standing tall and proud - nipping at the clouds, bathing in sun. Their tops look soft and pillowy like a giant could reach down and scoop up a handful, holding it up to his nose he would let the scent of nature and wilderness envelope him. I am this giant, and my trees are these blades of grass.
We bike across a bridge glancing down the lake-created corridor. We increase in speed to make it up a few substantial hills. A fellow cyclist rides by saying hi, I acknowledge with a smile, and he continues to pass miss with a different message saying, "wrong side of the road!" We collected ourselves and continued up. The 5 miles went by too quick even though we took our time, the scenery cannot be expressed through a photograph, it has to be experienced. The scent of the wind rushing by, the contrast of blue, glistening lake to green mountain sides to deep blue skies. The rush of cars passing, the excitement of increased speed, the ever improving confidence of our abilities. This is living. This is our vacation.
We glide to the beach, park our bikes, lock them up and unfurl our towels on the unrefined sand. Large pebbles mixed with golden sand seems unique and catches our fellow vacationers off guard as they ask each other "why did they put rocks in the sand!?"
Miss and I giggle quietly. We cool off in the waters, almost as magical as the Ganges, without the fear of dysentery. We find our spot and claim it with our belongings. We lay down, the sand conforms to our shape. We conform to the surroundings, shirtless, smiling, quiet conversation slipping in and out of our minds.
Jordan R Shaver
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