a heated holiday
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
We set off for Short Hills provincial park just after lunch today, but never made it.
I'd planned out a two hour hike, but when we got to the park we couldn't even get in the entrance. So many people had had the same idea that cars were parked in every conceivable position around the entrance, effectively blocking it. Kenny and Mari had both passed out on the short trip down from the north end of town, and it was starting to look like a scratch in any case—no sense in waking a three year old for a hike! Rather than get tangled up just trying to find parking let alone enjoy a crowded park, we decided on Rockway as a next stop. There we made a plan to do a drive 'round the peninsula. We eventually made it as far as the sand dunes on the shore of Lake Erie, with several stops for photographs.
It was so warm (and somewhat hazy) that I think we'd have been a bit warm on a hike even just in jeans and a shirt.
Upon our return, we headed back to the city. The highway was stop-and-go the entire time, and we spent as much time avoiding the highway altogether on the service roads as we did in actually plodding along on the highway itself. It took us two hours to get back to Toronto.
I'm still napping once or twice a day. Wouldn't have thought I'd be this wiped out.