So, I’ve been spending a lot of time on my content edits lately. It’s a little mind numbing and a lot frustrating. My poor husband has been dealing with things like my declaring that I need a fox. A flying, snarling, silver fox, before I walk away without explanation. But really, who needs to explain a flying fox?
To get me out of the house for a bit, we decided to go climb Mount Greylock in Massachusetts. The mountain is in my book, so I wanted to climb it. We took the drive out and chose our hiking path: a nice 10.5 miles up and down the mountain, starting with a detour to a waterfall.
We had fun hiking for a bit. Then we realized that whoever had created these trails was either a sadist or had no idea what a hiking path should, in fact, look like. There was a part of the trail that was just rocks. And not happy “let’s walk up this rock.” Or adventurous scrambling using your hands to climb rocks. NO. It was slippery, awkward-height rocks, with nothing to hold on to.
So, after the three miles to the falls, we decided to take a shortcut back. The shortcut was four miles, but that still cut off lots of time. The new trail was quiet. The beautiful green moss and grass were taking over the path. We were so happy to have found the road less traveled. Until we realized why it was the road less traveled. This path was worse than the first one! We were going downhill on steep, loose rocks! It was terrifying!
After a few near-death, or at least near-butt-planting experiences, we finally made it back to the car and drove up to the peak of Mount Greylock. The view was beautiful. It was amazing to stand on top of the mountain and look down on the forest that my characters exist in. It was definitely worth the drive.