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Today I returned to same back road I wrote about in a previous post, and found myself at the same fork.
When Robert Frost was confronted with the same sort of situation, he chose the road less traveled by. I had a definite destination in mind -- the Sharp's Hill Vineyard, for which I'd seen a sign. I had no idea whether it was open to the public or not, or, if so, during what hours. I tend to be spontaneous .
My destination was most likely at the end of Ambush Trail, the lower road. But it looked awfully narrow for the sort of road that normally leads to a public tasting room. The name of the road was a bit off-putting, and I was alone and not walking too well yet. I had visions of taking a narrow road that ended in private property without a sure way to turn around and a possible welcoming committee of guard dogs. You never know on the back roads.
So I did the prudent thing. I made a Y turn here and went back to the main road toward home. I have a phone number for the Sharps now, and before trying this again, I will call first to see if I'm welcome. This was not a good day to have an adventure, since I had work to finish. I had only intended a slight diversion on the way to work.
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