Cherry Lake


I do not feel well.

Jamie must be on a natural, constant, twenty four hour Methamphetamine high. The guy won’t quit. We’ve been on the go since this morning. It’s late now. Jamie hiked for most of the time we were at Lake Elenor. He also swam all over the place, hiked some more, and he’s apparently not through yet. We drove back over here to Cherry Lake so Jamie could bust out his kayak. Sitting here on an old worn out wooden picnic table overlooking Cherry Lake’s concrete boat launching area, I watched Jamie disappear into the horizon paddling away in his kayak. Neither Autumn or I know when he will finish up. I have this bad feeling we’re gonna be here for a long while.

Every muscle in my body aches badly. I need to lie down.

All I want to do is get back to the campsite and zone out. So far this trip with Autumn really has sucked. I knew she was going to pull this compulsively disorganized activity junk. And Jamie is ten times worse than she is. Both of them can’t slow down to take it easy. Ever. Not for a moment. It irritates the fuck out of me. That’s one of my biggest reasons for not going on any overseas travel with Autumn. She will drag me around from sun up ’till sundown in a rush to see stuff I don’t care about and blow all my loot in the process.

I weasled my way out of going to Russia with Autumn earlier this year. Jamie went on the trip in my place. At the time I felt good about that because Autumn would have a close friend along to keep her company. He was a decent travelling companion substitute for me. It took some of the pressure off of me to go on a trip with Autumn for a change, too. One morning after the two of them had been on the journey for a week or more, Autumn called me from Russia and complained at length. She was annoyed with Jamie because he constantly dragged Autumn everywhere around St. Petersburg all day long every day. Like Autumn he is an activity junkie. Seems neurotic to me. Anyway I laughed heartily to myself that morning when Autumn vented her frustrations over the phone to me. At last I thought to myself, now she knew what it felt like for once to be with someone who relentlessly had to be doing shit. I took a lot of personal pleasure out of that. I found it amusing that day and laughed under my breath as Autumn’s diatribe continued.

After she got back to the U.S. from Russia our weekends together were the same as before. Autumn planned out what we would be doing and when. I could go along with it or sit out. The usual two choices. She didn’t learn anything from that experience with Jamie or place herself in my shoes for a change. Then again why would she?

Not much around Cherry Lake. There’s a single row of houses on a ridge above the parking lot here. I was so thirsty that a few minutes ago I walked up there and guzzled water out of somebody’s garden hose. That drink tasted funky foul.

In order to get some rest I think I will have to be back at work in the factory. I need a vacation from my vacation already.


~ by factorypeasant on April 23, 2007.

3 Responses to “Cherry Lake”

  1. Man i think i would have just gotten to the lake and chilled for a day or two, maybe go for hike or whatnot but just relax and swim and such. Sounds like you all did a lot more trekking than chilling. Well live and learn bub.


  2. Why have you stopped talking about the firearms?

  3. don’t worry mr. Wad. there will be plenty more gun stories afoot around Bill and Dave before i’m through here yessir.

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