Though not a huge baseball fan myself, I've watched enough Sportscenter and read enough Facebook statuses during playoff time to understand that those who love baseball are serious about it. I had to see what all the fuss was about.
But there were a few highlights. Fenway, for example, is the oldest Major League Baseball stadium still in use. The wooden seats in the grandstand have been there since the stadium was built in 1912. In right field there is a lone red seat in the bleachers that signifies the longest home run ever hit in Fenway by Ted Williams. The home run measured 502 feet (I didn't remember that, I had to look it up).
When the tour was over, we said goodbye to Lindsay and Tarek and took them back to Cambridge. Then Mountain Man and I went to the Boston Sail Loft on the Boston Hahbah for our last suppah (sorry, I'll stop). Not quite ready to leave Massachusetts, I ordered a Cape Cod and a cup of the best clam chowder I've ever had. According to Mountain Man's dad, the not-so-secret ingredient in their chowder is dill. The restaurant had a great view and we watched sailors taking advantage of the unseasonably warm temperatures on their boats in the water. We also recapped the entire week, and congratulated each other on having made our crazy idea a reality. Not drama-free, but overall a huge success.
Mountain Man took me to the airport and we said farewell. Our goodbye was weird, and sad. We were both painfully aware that our vacation was over, and it was time to go back to work. Sad. Plus, this wasn't a "see you next time" or "see you at Christmas" kind of goodbye. This was an "I had so much fun. And I'm not sure if or when we'll see each other again" goodbye. Really sad. But perhaps I was most sad because I had the Soul II Soul song "Back to Life, Back to Reality" playing like a soundtrack in my head.
So what about Mountain Man? I know you're all dying to know. All three of you.
Mountain Man has returned to his reality in the mountains, and I have returned to mine in the city. It's been one month since the trip ended, but some days I feel like it happened in another lifetime, and that Mountain Man lives on another planet and not just in another state. After a lot thought and some tears (I know, enough with the crying already), here is all I can tell you:
So far, we haven't quite figured out how to translate our super fun and crazy impulsive trip into anything more than just that. We're still friends, and I know that we care about each other very much. But as my dad has always said, "When it comes to relationships, timing is everything." Timing is everything. But in our case, so is geography. And initiative. And faith.
The first time Mountain Man and I ever met was for a very brief time in Philadelphia. He jokingly said to me after that meeting, "Well, Steph, we'll always have Philadelphia."
Indeed, we will. And now, we'll always have Yosemite, San Francisco (minus the five hours in the Haight), and Boston too. An amazing trip that I won't soon forget.
And maybe that's all it will ever be. And maybe not. I suppose it'll be ok either way.