I make my way down the slithering roads of the mountain with the smell of campfire still lingering in my nose. The road ahead of me disappears in a cream of fog and mist. The moon – once brilliant, bright and luminous over the peaks – has disappeared in the blanket of low-lying clouds stretched over the Shawangunks Ridge. I can’t see behind or in front of me and I can pretend to be in this abyss, suspended in this moment close to nothingness.
Just the bright glow of tail lights reflecting off of the condensation appear in my rearview mirror as I brake around each bend. The headlights shine onto billowing wisps of thick air swarming around me. Every jostle of the road comes as a surprise and I can hardly brake against the natural propulsion generated by gravity pulling the car down-down closer to the Earth’s core.
The sun is rising, setting the horizon on fire with blasts of gold – slowly at first until the night fades away and suddenly the details of the world come back into view.