Twenty Two Miles of Peace

Summer Fridays may be the very thing that keeps the advertising industry in motion. The thought of a single day, extending your sanctuary time to three entire days, is enough to keep one's hope alive.

Rob and I packed up the car 9AM Friday morning with all intention of reaching Boston before 2PM. Two pit stops and one hellish traffic jam later thank you very much Big Dig, we arrive in Boston at 5PM. We depart the city and head a little further North towards a tiny slice of Americana called Swampscott. This town is the home of my two cousins and just about every suburban stereotype one can imagine. We sleep the night in my aunt and uncle's Victorian house on the dead end that over looks the ocean, listening to the sounds of nothingness as our eyelids grow heavy. Living in the city for all my life I have become accustomed to nightly noises and interruptions and have now reached the point where such distractions are needed for restful sleep.

We wake at 6AM the next morning and head out for New Hampshire to embark on our camping expedition. I've never been so far North in this country and it amazes me how much the North starts to resemble the South.

Arriving at the Saco river we unpack our gear and the puppy greets every pair of feet in site. Our canoes are waiting for us upriver a bit so we load up the van and prepare ourselves for twenty two miles of camping and canoeing.