I decided to at least try to finish this memoir. I'll be alternating between the two, don't get too confused.
Part 4: Splashed and Sprayed
My uncle and I made our way to the entrance of Splashwater Kingdom, the water park section of The Great Escape. Just outside the entrance were lockers we could rent to store our things. To rent one, you went to a little kiosk, paid your fee and received a key. There are also lockers inside the Splashwater kingdom.. Uncle Russell rented us a little locker just outside the entrance and we met up with my aunts, cousins and sister inside the Splashwater Kingdom. Then we briefly split up in order to change.
My bathing suit was an aqua and yellow plaid one piece, which I had liked very much for it's colors and comfort. It was prettier than the other swimsuits I owned that year, including a hot pink glittery number, and a ruffled floral abortion. These two had been given to me by the mother of a friend.. I pulled my suit on, then let my aunt coat me in sunscreen.
At the age of ten, I had already started puberty, and when I wore my bathing suit there was no denying it's presence. My hips had begun to widen and my breasts had budded. I was physically maturing, the next year I would get my first period.
While my body was maturing, my emotions still had some catching up to do. Like I mentioned earlier, I was an immature 10 year old, and because of this I found myself in Noah's Sprayground.
Noah's Sprayground is a a water play ground with a Noah's Ark theme. It's got the ark, animal themed water slides, sprinklers and even some monkey shaped swings, all set in a foot of water or less. It's generally for babies, toddlers and small kids, but I went in anyway, eager to get wet. My presence was ignored by other bathers, though I was yelled at by a lifeguard for some minor discretion. I've only visited this attraction twice. This time, and in the summer of 2000. The last time I went in, some little brat kicked me in the shins, and declared that I was too big to be there, which I found to be a testament to his parents' disciplinary skills. Whoever, and wherever this brat is today, I hope he has AIDS; ill-mannered children are the bane of our society.
Eventually I wandered away from the aquatic playland, and grabbed a hot pink inner tube from a pile, not sure where to go. It seems I had forgotten about my family. It was then, that my sister retrieved me and told me to come with her.
We were going to ride Captain Hook's River Adventure. It's one of those lazy river rides where you lay in an inner tube and float down a chlorinated man-made river. Every so often you're drenched with sprays and torrents of water, coming from fountains and anywhere else a pipe can be placed. It's one of my favorites at the Great Escape, possibly because I went on it the first time I visited the park.
The water in the 'river' was about two or feet deep, which was a relief to me, seeing as I have always had a fear of drowning. But even though the water was shallow, I still had an irrational fear that I was somehow going to slip through the inner tube and drown anyway. I also felt uneasy trying to get into the inner tube, as I always do. Those things slip and slide out from under me, when ever I try to get in one. I'm sure there's a trick to getting in them, but I haven't figured it out. Because I was having so much trouble, my aunt held the inner tube steady while I climbed on. It was a bright blue and yellow ring of vinyl joy, slick with water droplets. Once I was securely on the tube, my aunt let go.
I bobbed down the river gently, gripping the handles of the inner tube, rocked by little waves. I began to drift underneath a bridge, on which park guests walked from attraction to attraction. It was dark under there, and from the bridge, a waterfall poured. I hoped that I would get sprayed, but I did not. My disappointment did not last long, because eventually, I would end up under a giant pipe spouting water, which poured what felt like gallons of water. Getting splashed and sprayed didn't turn out to be very fun. Even to this day, I always find myself hunched over and screaming when I end up under one of the fountains.
We went around the aquatic course twice. During the second trip through my Aunt slipped through the inner tube (just as I had feared doing) and grievously hurt her shoulder. We had to leave Splashwater Kingdom so my she could go to the park's infirmary. My foray into the water park was over. Where would I go next?
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Fox and Squirrel Pt. 2
Part 2: Vermont Invading New York
We drove to Lake George, chatting and listening to music. As I usually do on road trips, I counted cemeteries and then eventually dozed for awhile. Car rides make me sleepy, they always have. For as long as I can remember, putting me in a car has resulted in putting me to sleep.
As with most road trips, I don't remember all the details, possibly because of how uneventful they usually are. I don't remember the names of the towns we drove through, or what road we were on. If I did, the story would have too many details, and thus make your head explode. I have too many details in this story as it is.
We did eventually cross into New York. I spent my time trying to recognize landmarks from my first trip to the Great Escape, but found that I remembered very little, so we kept consulting the map.
At one point, we stopped at a Stewart's. Stewart's, for those of you who don't know, is a chain of gas stations that happen to sell damn good ice cream. They are very common throughout New York state, and because I lived in upstate NY for six years, they have a lot of sentimental value to me.
We stopped at the Stewart's for several reasons. First of all, we were quite lost, and needed directions. Secondly, I had to use the bathroom, and Acacia wanted something to eat. While we did have snacks like chips and Rice Krispy Treats, she needed something substantial. So we pulled into the parking lot, and ambled out of the car. I peed, Acacia bought herself a Stewart's hamburger, some iced cappuccino drinks, and an iced tea for me; then we got our directions and left.
As Vermonters, it felt weird driving in New York and a little uncomfortable, as well. As we drove through small towns, I felt like our presence was unwelcome to locals. We found this amusing though, and began to joke about Vermont invading New York. We dubbed ourselves North and South; I cannot recall who was which. I may have been North because I was born in Burlington, but Acacia could have been North because she goes to Johnson State College. Acacia could have been South because she was raised in southern Vermont, but I could have earned the title because I live there full-time. Either way, we would call ourselves North and South for the rest of the day.
After awhile, we got lost for a second time, due to some confusion regarding our map. Something about the turn we were supposed to take didn't seem right. It didn't look like it led to an amusement park, instead it looked like a lonely country road. So we pulled into yet another gas station, cheerful European pop blasting out of our car speakers, audible to all who happened to pass by. Acacia got out to ask for directions, while I stayed in the car and enjoyed the music.
I felt something special in the air, a something I can't describe to you. It was one of those days where I realized how delicious it is to be young, one of those days where I felt free and happy. I didn't realize at the time that after this trip, I would be plunged into a deep depression that would put me in group therapy. But at that moment, I wasn't thinking about the future. I was in the present, uninhibited by the past and unconcerned for the future, reveling in my excitement and temporary good fortune. I felt my age, twenty years old and having fun.
It turns out we had taken a wrong turn, or we hadn't even made the turn, I'm not sure which. We also found out that a lot of people pull into that station to ask for directions because they always get confused by that goddamn turn. So we weren't the only ones to get lost, much to my amusement.
When we got close to Lake George, and began to see the road signs advertising the park, the traffic began to thicken. I felt a twinge of panic clutch me, and fervently hoped they weren't all headed for The Great Escape. It was unlikely, seeing as Lake George is a vacation town, and has lots of parks, camps and other summer attractions, but I couldn't help but feel that fear.
The traffic was heavy, and seemed to go on for miles and miles. We must have been five miles outside of Lake George and the traffic was already extremely dense. Subsequently, we ended up stuck in a traffic jam.
The ordeal was frustrating. Very frustrating. To ease our nerves, and have some fun, we put Phantom of the Opera into the car CD player, rolled down the windows and turned up the volume. Then we sang at the top of our lungs, with enthusiasm. High notes were hit, and nearby drivers stared. I don't know if we sounded any good, but it was an entertaining distraction.
But by the time we were in the shopping district of Lake George, the music wasn't helping. I felt frustrated and fussy. So we turned off the music, and decided to vent another way.
Swearing, often has stress and pain relieving effects. I don't know why, but it does; there have been scientific studies and everything. That being said, we decided to vent our frustrations and anxieties by swearing and swearing well. We said some filthy, obscene things and we made up some fantastically hilarious swears. One of the terms I made up was "Cunt Monkey". We found ourselves laughing, swearing and screaming at the traffic, our windows down, Lake George hearing our foul mouths. I think we may have traumatized some children or at the very least offended their parents.
Soon enough, the traffic began to clear, like mucus expectorating from congested lungs. We laughed some more, decided that our swearing had made the traffic move, and continued onward.
Soon enough, I began to notice certain landmarks that heralded the appearance of the park, including a staid office building which sits just next door to The Great Escape. I've always loved the contrast of these two opposites sitting next to each other, the office building and the amusement park.
I felt a tingle of excitement, soon we would be there! Then, at last, I saw the park itself, looking a little different than the last time I saw it, but it was still The Great Escape!
But there were other changes, beyond the ones that I could see and I was about to find out how big those changes were...
And you'll find out too! In my next installment!
We drove to Lake George, chatting and listening to music. As I usually do on road trips, I counted cemeteries and then eventually dozed for awhile. Car rides make me sleepy, they always have. For as long as I can remember, putting me in a car has resulted in putting me to sleep.
As with most road trips, I don't remember all the details, possibly because of how uneventful they usually are. I don't remember the names of the towns we drove through, or what road we were on. If I did, the story would have too many details, and thus make your head explode. I have too many details in this story as it is.
We did eventually cross into New York. I spent my time trying to recognize landmarks from my first trip to the Great Escape, but found that I remembered very little, so we kept consulting the map.
At one point, we stopped at a Stewart's. Stewart's, for those of you who don't know, is a chain of gas stations that happen to sell damn good ice cream. They are very common throughout New York state, and because I lived in upstate NY for six years, they have a lot of sentimental value to me.
We stopped at the Stewart's for several reasons. First of all, we were quite lost, and needed directions. Secondly, I had to use the bathroom, and Acacia wanted something to eat. While we did have snacks like chips and Rice Krispy Treats, she needed something substantial. So we pulled into the parking lot, and ambled out of the car. I peed, Acacia bought herself a Stewart's hamburger, some iced cappuccino drinks, and an iced tea for me; then we got our directions and left.
As Vermonters, it felt weird driving in New York and a little uncomfortable, as well. As we drove through small towns, I felt like our presence was unwelcome to locals. We found this amusing though, and began to joke about Vermont invading New York. We dubbed ourselves North and South; I cannot recall who was which. I may have been North because I was born in Burlington, but Acacia could have been North because she goes to Johnson State College. Acacia could have been South because she was raised in southern Vermont, but I could have earned the title because I live there full-time. Either way, we would call ourselves North and South for the rest of the day.
After awhile, we got lost for a second time, due to some confusion regarding our map. Something about the turn we were supposed to take didn't seem right. It didn't look like it led to an amusement park, instead it looked like a lonely country road. So we pulled into yet another gas station, cheerful European pop blasting out of our car speakers, audible to all who happened to pass by. Acacia got out to ask for directions, while I stayed in the car and enjoyed the music.
I felt something special in the air, a something I can't describe to you. It was one of those days where I realized how delicious it is to be young, one of those days where I felt free and happy. I didn't realize at the time that after this trip, I would be plunged into a deep depression that would put me in group therapy. But at that moment, I wasn't thinking about the future. I was in the present, uninhibited by the past and unconcerned for the future, reveling in my excitement and temporary good fortune. I felt my age, twenty years old and having fun.
It turns out we had taken a wrong turn, or we hadn't even made the turn, I'm not sure which. We also found out that a lot of people pull into that station to ask for directions because they always get confused by that goddamn turn. So we weren't the only ones to get lost, much to my amusement.
When we got close to Lake George, and began to see the road signs advertising the park, the traffic began to thicken. I felt a twinge of panic clutch me, and fervently hoped they weren't all headed for The Great Escape. It was unlikely, seeing as Lake George is a vacation town, and has lots of parks, camps and other summer attractions, but I couldn't help but feel that fear.
The traffic was heavy, and seemed to go on for miles and miles. We must have been five miles outside of Lake George and the traffic was already extremely dense. Subsequently, we ended up stuck in a traffic jam.
The ordeal was frustrating. Very frustrating. To ease our nerves, and have some fun, we put Phantom of the Opera into the car CD player, rolled down the windows and turned up the volume. Then we sang at the top of our lungs, with enthusiasm. High notes were hit, and nearby drivers stared. I don't know if we sounded any good, but it was an entertaining distraction.
But by the time we were in the shopping district of Lake George, the music wasn't helping. I felt frustrated and fussy. So we turned off the music, and decided to vent another way.
Swearing, often has stress and pain relieving effects. I don't know why, but it does; there have been scientific studies and everything. That being said, we decided to vent our frustrations and anxieties by swearing and swearing well. We said some filthy, obscene things and we made up some fantastically hilarious swears. One of the terms I made up was "Cunt Monkey". We found ourselves laughing, swearing and screaming at the traffic, our windows down, Lake George hearing our foul mouths. I think we may have traumatized some children or at the very least offended their parents.
Soon enough, the traffic began to clear, like mucus expectorating from congested lungs. We laughed some more, decided that our swearing had made the traffic move, and continued onward.
Soon enough, I began to notice certain landmarks that heralded the appearance of the park, including a staid office building which sits just next door to The Great Escape. I've always loved the contrast of these two opposites sitting next to each other, the office building and the amusement park.
I felt a tingle of excitement, soon we would be there! Then, at last, I saw the park itself, looking a little different than the last time I saw it, but it was still The Great Escape!
But there were other changes, beyond the ones that I could see and I was about to find out how big those changes were...
And you'll find out too! In my next installment!
Friday, November 27, 2009
Fox and Squirrel go on an Adventure
I'm taking a break from my other cyber memoir "My First Trip to the Great Escape", to impart the account of my most recent trip to the theme park, with my dear friend Acacia. Like other memoirs of mine (All amusement park themed, it seems) it will be in parts, and I hope what few readers I have will be able to keep up and not get mixed up.
Part 1: You Can't Have an Adventure on an Empty Stomach
Acacia and I first hatched our plan for a Great Escape trip on a warm summer's day. We'd spent the day swimming at the Saxton's River Rec, shopping in Rutland, and visiting the Laurel Glen cemetery in Cuttingsville, Vermont. At some point during our long day, we decided to plan a special trip. Would we go to Salem, MA? Would we go to The Montshire Museum? It had to be special. Somehow, we decided upon the Great Escape, seeing as neither of us had been there in years.
For me, the planning was rather strenuous; I had to scrounge up enough cash to buy a ticket and to pay for gas and parking (The Great Escape charged for parking!). We also had to pick a date, and arrange a schedule. There was much to do and so little time to do it! I was having anxiety attacks from the stress. But thanks to my mother's help and a bit of good luck, everything worked out. We ordered the tickets online, and my mom bought food to pack a picnic. We'd take our trip on a Monday, to beat the weekend crowds.
It had been decided that on the night before our trip I would sleep at Acacia's, for reasons of convenience. So on Sunday, August 9th, Acacia arrived at my house, in her little midnight blue car. I had packed us two bags of food for the night and the next day, sandwich makings, snacks and juice boxes. In my Sweeney Todd bag I had packed my overnight things- pajamas, clothes for the next day, items of that sort. In my purple backpack, I packed items I would need for the park- my bathing suit, my towel, medications, my money and our tickets.
Acacia and I drove to her house in good spirits. I however, was just a tiny bit anxious, triggered by my usual apprehension of going on any trips without my family (how did I survive Hershey?) and the fact that The Great Escape only accepted online tickets if you had a photo ID, which I did not have. But you'll find dear reader, that my fears were unfounded. I was not carded, not even once, during our trip.
Acacia lives in a lovely old house in Chester, with a beautiful view of the river. The rooms are gorgeous, and well decorated with various curios and knick-knacks. The house belongs to her grandparents, and she lives there during college vacations. It is also haunted, but I will discuss that later.
Once inside, we put away our food and settled in for an entertaining evening. Acacia graciously offered me a Woodchuck Hard Cider, which I accepted gladly, for I enjoy the crisp tartness of hard cider. Drinks in hand, we entered the living room, to entertain ourselves in various and sundry ways.
It was a boisterous night. We watched an anime called Axis Powers Hetalia and a couple of TV programs. We laughed and we ate sandwiches.
The night wore on. At one point, Acacia retired to the bathroom to shave her legs, giving me a chance to use the internet. We had long talks about life, the universe and everything, accompanied by plenty of music.
Soon, it was time to go to bed. We camped out in the living room; I had the couch while Acacia took the floor. We got settled in, and turned out the lights.
Sleep did not come. Besides my anxiety and excitement, my insomnia was caused by the fact that Acacia's house had it's share of spirits. Weird vibes and sounds filled the darkness. As a result, I panicked and Acacia turned on the light. As with most hauntings, the bad feelings recede when the light is on, and I felt at ease. To further my comfort, Acacia brought out incense and tarot cards. She lit the incense, releasing a sweet smell reminiscent of my childhood, an incense my mother must have used. Then she performed a tarot reading.
During the reading, we discussed my on and off again boyfriend Scott, for the trials of our affair had been plaguing me for the past two years. It helped some and I had intense feelings of comfort and ease, thanks to the ritual and the sweet incense. We returned to bed, much more willing to sleep than before. I did eventually sleep some, and had very bizarre dreams. I tend to have weird dreams whenever I sleep away from home. I woke up several times during the night, but managed to fall back asleep.
We woke up about six in the morning, ready to get on the road. I changed out of my pajamas and put on clean underwear, socks and a bra. Then, I pulled on my Torrid capris, (the same ones I wore to Hershey) and my purple t-shirt with the meditating fairy. I put on my black converse sneakers with the rainbow laces, my pentacle, my purple goddess earrings and tied my hair back into an efficient ponytail. Acacia put on a pair of khaki colored shorts, a t-shirt, the color of which escapes my memory, (I want to say it was a pale sage green) and a pair of sandals. Not flip-flops, wedges, or slides, but a pair of good proper sandals which stay put.
We had everything packed up, our food, our bathing suits and everything else, but it was only 6:15. We had hopped out of bed and gotten dressed and packed in record time. Acacia was not quite ready to leave, so she suggested making breakfast; you can't have an adventure on an empty stomach, after all.
So we made pancakes. We mixed the batter, and fried them right up. They fell apart easily and were a little misshapen, but they were still very tasty. We slathered them in butter and pancake syrup (even though we're Vermonters, we sadly lacked real maple syrup), poured ourselves glasses of milk and sat down to breakfast.
It was a good breakfast; we ate heartily and I downed two glasses of milk. We chatted over our breakfast, one of the subjects being the fact that the syrup bottle said "Pancake and Waffle Syrup". You can't call it maple, because it is not maple. It is not even close, it's artificially flavored imitation maple. It doesn't even have maple in it, I think. It tastes like it, but it's a vague, overly sweet maple-y flavor. It's not bad, but it's not the real thing. Like silicone tits, you can look at them, they're pretty if they're done right, but they'll never feel as nice as the real thing.
After breakfast, I took my Cylexa and a Xanax for my anxiety and we chilled for awhile (Or did we chill before we had breakfast?). I was anxious to leave, but Acacia was the driver and since she had the keys, she made the decisions.
We left around seven. I put in my American Indian flute music, but it made us too sleepy, so we switched to more cheerful music to gear us up. We drove to Springfield, in order to stop at Acacia's bank so she could get some money. I didn't mind too much, until we discovered we had at least a half an hour before her bank opened! We waited that grueling 30 minutes reading New England ghost stories to each other. When the bank opened, we went in and Acacia withdrew some money from her account. Then we got back in the car, and made ready to journey to Lake George.
But we forgot the map. Not having a map put a damper on our plans. A big one. So we sped back to Chester and ran into the house to get the map, while I reminded myself that everything would work out fine. Once we fetched the map, we could officially begin our adventure.
Stay tuned for part 2!
Part 1: You Can't Have an Adventure on an Empty Stomach
Acacia and I first hatched our plan for a Great Escape trip on a warm summer's day. We'd spent the day swimming at the Saxton's River Rec, shopping in Rutland, and visiting the Laurel Glen cemetery in Cuttingsville, Vermont. At some point during our long day, we decided to plan a special trip. Would we go to Salem, MA? Would we go to The Montshire Museum? It had to be special. Somehow, we decided upon the Great Escape, seeing as neither of us had been there in years.
For me, the planning was rather strenuous; I had to scrounge up enough cash to buy a ticket and to pay for gas and parking (The Great Escape charged for parking!). We also had to pick a date, and arrange a schedule. There was much to do and so little time to do it! I was having anxiety attacks from the stress. But thanks to my mother's help and a bit of good luck, everything worked out. We ordered the tickets online, and my mom bought food to pack a picnic. We'd take our trip on a Monday, to beat the weekend crowds.
It had been decided that on the night before our trip I would sleep at Acacia's, for reasons of convenience. So on Sunday, August 9th, Acacia arrived at my house, in her little midnight blue car. I had packed us two bags of food for the night and the next day, sandwich makings, snacks and juice boxes. In my Sweeney Todd bag I had packed my overnight things- pajamas, clothes for the next day, items of that sort. In my purple backpack, I packed items I would need for the park- my bathing suit, my towel, medications, my money and our tickets.
Acacia and I drove to her house in good spirits. I however, was just a tiny bit anxious, triggered by my usual apprehension of going on any trips without my family (how did I survive Hershey?) and the fact that The Great Escape only accepted online tickets if you had a photo ID, which I did not have. But you'll find dear reader, that my fears were unfounded. I was not carded, not even once, during our trip.
Acacia lives in a lovely old house in Chester, with a beautiful view of the river. The rooms are gorgeous, and well decorated with various curios and knick-knacks. The house belongs to her grandparents, and she lives there during college vacations. It is also haunted, but I will discuss that later.
Once inside, we put away our food and settled in for an entertaining evening. Acacia graciously offered me a Woodchuck Hard Cider, which I accepted gladly, for I enjoy the crisp tartness of hard cider. Drinks in hand, we entered the living room, to entertain ourselves in various and sundry ways.
It was a boisterous night. We watched an anime called Axis Powers Hetalia and a couple of TV programs. We laughed and we ate sandwiches.
The night wore on. At one point, Acacia retired to the bathroom to shave her legs, giving me a chance to use the internet. We had long talks about life, the universe and everything, accompanied by plenty of music.
Soon, it was time to go to bed. We camped out in the living room; I had the couch while Acacia took the floor. We got settled in, and turned out the lights.
Sleep did not come. Besides my anxiety and excitement, my insomnia was caused by the fact that Acacia's house had it's share of spirits. Weird vibes and sounds filled the darkness. As a result, I panicked and Acacia turned on the light. As with most hauntings, the bad feelings recede when the light is on, and I felt at ease. To further my comfort, Acacia brought out incense and tarot cards. She lit the incense, releasing a sweet smell reminiscent of my childhood, an incense my mother must have used. Then she performed a tarot reading.
During the reading, we discussed my on and off again boyfriend Scott, for the trials of our affair had been plaguing me for the past two years. It helped some and I had intense feelings of comfort and ease, thanks to the ritual and the sweet incense. We returned to bed, much more willing to sleep than before. I did eventually sleep some, and had very bizarre dreams. I tend to have weird dreams whenever I sleep away from home. I woke up several times during the night, but managed to fall back asleep.
We woke up about six in the morning, ready to get on the road. I changed out of my pajamas and put on clean underwear, socks and a bra. Then, I pulled on my Torrid capris, (the same ones I wore to Hershey) and my purple t-shirt with the meditating fairy. I put on my black converse sneakers with the rainbow laces, my pentacle, my purple goddess earrings and tied my hair back into an efficient ponytail. Acacia put on a pair of khaki colored shorts, a t-shirt, the color of which escapes my memory, (I want to say it was a pale sage green) and a pair of sandals. Not flip-flops, wedges, or slides, but a pair of good proper sandals which stay put.
We had everything packed up, our food, our bathing suits and everything else, but it was only 6:15. We had hopped out of bed and gotten dressed and packed in record time. Acacia was not quite ready to leave, so she suggested making breakfast; you can't have an adventure on an empty stomach, after all.
So we made pancakes. We mixed the batter, and fried them right up. They fell apart easily and were a little misshapen, but they were still very tasty. We slathered them in butter and pancake syrup (even though we're Vermonters, we sadly lacked real maple syrup), poured ourselves glasses of milk and sat down to breakfast.
It was a good breakfast; we ate heartily and I downed two glasses of milk. We chatted over our breakfast, one of the subjects being the fact that the syrup bottle said "Pancake and Waffle Syrup". You can't call it maple, because it is not maple. It is not even close, it's artificially flavored imitation maple. It doesn't even have maple in it, I think. It tastes like it, but it's a vague, overly sweet maple-y flavor. It's not bad, but it's not the real thing. Like silicone tits, you can look at them, they're pretty if they're done right, but they'll never feel as nice as the real thing.
After breakfast, I took my Cylexa and a Xanax for my anxiety and we chilled for awhile (Or did we chill before we had breakfast?). I was anxious to leave, but Acacia was the driver and since she had the keys, she made the decisions.
We left around seven. I put in my American Indian flute music, but it made us too sleepy, so we switched to more cheerful music to gear us up. We drove to Springfield, in order to stop at Acacia's bank so she could get some money. I didn't mind too much, until we discovered we had at least a half an hour before her bank opened! We waited that grueling 30 minutes reading New England ghost stories to each other. When the bank opened, we went in and Acacia withdrew some money from her account. Then we got back in the car, and made ready to journey to Lake George.
But we forgot the map. Not having a map put a damper on our plans. A big one. So we sped back to Chester and ran into the house to get the map, while I reminded myself that everything would work out fine. Once we fetched the map, we could officially begin our adventure.
Stay tuned for part 2!
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