Driving into the Adirondacks always feels like the start to a grand adventure. Usually because it is. When the road signs turn from that manufactured green that doesn’t exist anywhere but on road signs, to brown… you know it’s beginning.
Rolling into Keene Valley I felt like I was expanding, filling the space, filling my lungs, filling with infinite possibility. And the Adirondacks didn’t disappoint.
We hiked Roaring Brook Falls and liked it so much we did it again the next day. We climbed at Beer Wall and liked it so much we did it again the next day. We ate cheese boards, we drank, we had fires and food, and friends.
Driving out of Keene Valley on Sunday all I could think was that I wish I could rewind. I wish I could return to the me that had arrived just a few days ago and do it all again. I wished that life was a tape and I could roll it back and play it again.
And again.
