The tent was in the trunk

next to the air mattress;

the blankets covered the back seats.

It might be a tight squeeze in the small tent,

but that wasn’t our focus

because the tubes were on top of the pillows;

it was hard to see around them

as I backed down Maddie’s driveway,

but they needed to be brought

or we wouldn’t have anything to ride

through the rapids of the Saco River

 

It was the only thing on my mind

during the long drive up.

I craved the fresh crisp water

running past my ankles

as I stepped off of the rocky bed,

submerging in the cool mountain stream

to let the river carry me

through the churning white rapids

like a shell being towed back out to sea

at the mercy of the tides.

 

Once we set up our tent

and drove through the desolate mountain roads

surrounded by vast pine forests

we were in the heart of North Conway

struggling to find a parking spot

near Zeb’s General Store,

with two floors full of souvenirs and candies

packed in there tightly like an overstuffed suitcase

whose zipper refused to move any further

after making it three quarters of the way around.