It’s 4 pm. I’m done with the day, but the day’s not done yet, so I’m laying low.
I crossed the Hudson this morning. A few hours later, I crossed Interstate 87. Saratoga Springs is just to the north. Schenectady is just to the south. This is a busy little pocket of human to-and-fro-ness.
I’ve been looking for a place to camp since 1 pm. Yesterday’s roomy farmland is long gone. The farms are still there, but the roominess has evaporated — houses line the streets now. The woodlots are smaller. It’s a lot harder to find a piece of ground suitable for taking a well-earned break, much less one that’ll keep you hidden till nightfall.
Right now I’m within sight of two well-traveled paths. Down below the ridge I’m on is a bike path. It’s about a hundred feet away, and most of the trees still don’t have leaves yet. Behind me is a footpath through the woods. It’s even closer, but as long as nobody walks their dog over there, I should be fine. I’ll just keep my head down and hope nobody notices me.
Only four hours to go till dark.
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