I woke up early this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided I might as well get started.

There was quite a bit to do before I could actually leave Camp Hidey Ho.

I brought in all the solar panels, disconnected the batteries and the lines running to the panels, and got everything stored inside. Then I moved the big batteries into the new battery closet I’d spent the last few days building.

After that, it was several more trips across the bog.

Leftover food. Laundry. Clothes. Tools. All the miscellaneous things that had accumulated during a month of living at the cabin.

It took a while.

But eventually the truck was packed, the cabin was buttoned up, and there was only one thing left to do.

I had to say goodbye to Patten Pond.

That’s actually a tradition that goes back many years for our family.

When we used to spend a week every year at Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire, before we left, each person had to go down to the lake individually and say goodbye. It was a chance to spend a few quiet minutes alone and think about what the lake had given you during the week.

It was a tradition I always appreciated, and I’ve carried it forward at Camp Hidey Ho.

This year, after a full month here, I had quite a bit to reflect on.

There were the big projects—the cabin staining, the chinking, the battery closet and, of course, the bog walkway.

There were the things that didn’t go quite according to plan.

The rain. The poison ivy. The sore ribs. The truck perched on top of a pile of lumber. The Dingo nearly nose-diving into the bog.

And there were all the things I hadn’t planned at all.

The loons calling across the lake. The river otters playing in the water. The bald eagle watching us from its tree. The ruffed grouse challenging my truck on Democrat Ridge Road. The Perseid meteors. The swims in the lake. My visits with Jen, Austin, Caroline and Ella.

And, of course, Buddy.

So I spent a few minutes by the water, said goodbye to Patten Pond for another year, and then it was time to go.

I pulled out a little before 10:00.

I knew it was going to be a long day.

Thirteen hours, in fact.

But I made it all the way to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, where I’d also spent a night on my way north.

The entire drive between Florida and Camp Hidey Ho is about 29 hours.

I’ve mentioned before how strange that seems. Maine is on the East Coast, just like Florida, so somehow it doesn’t feel as though it should be that far away.

But it is.

To put 29 hours of driving into perspective, I recently wondered how far west I could get from Florida in the same amount of time.

The answer was Las Vegas.

And with another couple of hours—about 31 hours of driving—I could practically make it all the way to Los Angeles.

So yes, Camp Hidey Ho is a long way from home.

That’s probably its biggest drawback.

But maybe there’s an upside to that too.

When it takes that much effort just to get there, you don’t go for a long weekend. You stay.

And staying for a month gives you enough time to settle into the place rather than simply visit it.

The long drive home also gives me plenty of time to think about what I’m returning to.

One of the biggest developments happened completely unexpectedly while I was in Maine.

The fire-damaged rental house in Florida may be sold.

Someone happened to drive by the property while Trudy was there, they struck up a conversation, and the person said they were interested in buying the house as it sits.

One conversation led to another, we agreed on a price, and at this point it looks as though the sale is going to happen.

That would be a tremendous relief.

We’d been preparing ourselves for a reconstruction that could take six months or longer, with all the decisions, expenses and supervision that would come with it. If the sale goes through, we can put that behind us and move on.

So there will be plenty waiting for me when I get home.

I think this will also be my last journal entry for this year’s Camp Hidey Ho adventure. From here, there’s really not much left to report other than a lot more driving.

For those of you who followed along for the entire month, thank you for sticking with me.

I’ve enjoyed keeping the journal again this year. It’s a good way for me to remember not just the projects, but all the little things that happened along the way.

Hopefully I’ll be back at Camp Hidey Ho next year.

I’ll have a new knee by then, so I’ll actually be arriving with two new knees.

We’ll see whether that makes me more productive—or just encourages me to come up with an even longer project list.

Either way, there will be plenty waiting for me.