So, I’m back home, safe and sound. Did you miss me? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know…
As you recall from this thread, I was heading north to meet my spouse and Perfect Child[sup]TM[/sup] and FIL at the end of their trek up the east coast in Wandering Star. They arrived at Anchorage Marina in Baltimore’s Canton area about 6 or so Monday evening.
I got home from work that day, took the dogs to the kennel, made a quick stop for some last-minute traveling supplies, then went home to pack, hook up the trailer, and go. It was pouring from the time I left the dogs – a real toad-soaker. It alternated between downpour and sprinkles for another hour or so, but since I was indoors most of the time, I didn’t care. I had to repair the ground wire on the trailer before I could hook it up, but soon my little cooler, my tote bag, and all the stuff on my list was packed and ready. I dragged the trailer into the street and tried to put the kid’s Beetle into the garage, but it wouldn’t fit without a bit of rearranging, so I just left it on the driveway. I took a key to my neighbor – she was going to bring in my mail – set a lamp to turn on each night, and left.
Since my van has a slow leak in one tire, I stopped to check the air pressure in all of them. Good thing, too. The trailer tires were just over 20psi – they were supposed to be 50psi. I got everything filled to the correct pressure, confident I was ready to go.
Right.
As I was waiting to pull onto Blanding Blvd, I looked back and saw my husband’s beloved Royal Star leaning WAAAAAAAAAAAY over to the left. I immediately drove into a level parking lot to check it out. The bike was resting on the left side footrest. I managed to stand it upright and put the kickstand in place before noticing that the strap in the front of the bike was completely detached. If you don’t know the bike, Royal Stars are big, heavy cruising motorcycles. My husband is a fairly big, strong guy, and he has to work to maneuver it around. I’m no delicate little flower, but I struggled to right the bike. I tried securing the straps, forcing the struts to compress, aligning the front wheel with the back. I was truly dripping sweat, wrestling with the hunk of machinery. It was after 6 and overcast – I was afraid I was going to get rained on, and I knew I needed help to secure the bike for such a long trip.
There are two motorcycle dealers that were about 2 miles from where I was. I didn’t know how long they were open, and I really didn’t want to go ask them to strap down a bike that was neither bought nor ever serviced there. I considered going to Buffalo’s – a local restaurant where bikers hang out – but I really couldn’t trust Steve’s bike to strangers, nor was there any guarantee that some guys out for a few beers would be willing or able to help me out. So I made the only decision I could – back home. I checked and double-checked the straps, sure they’d be OK for the 3 miles back to the house. I knew Steve would be disappointed, but he’d be more upset if I trashed his bike. So ever-so-gently, I drove back to the house, pulled the kid’s car out of the driveway, and backed the trailer into the garage. Once there, I loosened all the straps and left the bike leaning on its kickstand. Then I put the kid’s car back on the drive, grabbed my clothing bag and little cooler, and went back into the house. Quick shower, slip into a ratty robe, call Steve and tell him my schedule changed, watch a little TV, then crash.
I got up at 4 on Tuesday, and by 4:12AM, I was pulling back on the road. The timing was not ideal, since I’d be hitting the DC beltway about 12 hours later, but leaving earlier would have been dangerous due to lack of sleep, and leaving later would be, well, late. So there I was. I had 3 fuel stops, one food stop, and 2 bathroom stops. I’d brought some books on tape for when I got sick of radio, which didn’t take too long. I started with the Andromeda Strain, but the first tape got hung up on the second side, so I had to pop it out. Then on the Northanger Abbey – Jane Austin can be difficult to listen to on tape, and this version was read by a woman who dropped her voice a lot at the end of sentences. After several rewinds to catch what I missed, I gave up and just let it keep running. I figure I got most of the story. Then I started Emma, read by a better actress, and that took me all the way to Boston Street. I was stopped by a train within a mile of so of the marina, but it wasn’t a long delay, and soon I was reunited with my sweetie.
After dinner that evening, the Perfect Child[sup]TM[/sup] and I went over to see my sister who’d just had a hysterectomy the week before. While we were chatting with her, a storm blew thru Baltimore – blow being the operative word! The wind was unbelievable, sending us running to shut the windows (no a/c in the old East Baltimore house where she lives) before the sky opened. We stayed a little longer till the rain subsided, then headed back to the marina. There’d been some damage to boats and condos on the waterfront. Awnings were ripped and sent flying, a few inflatable dinghies were blown off the docks, cushions and various items were floating around the marina, and one sailboat at the end of “F” Dock had a shredded headsail. Steve had managed to get our cockpit awning down before it was damaged, and he tried to save the sail that got loose, but it was beyond his control. We found out the next morning that it was the THIRD sail the owner lost that way – he refused to secure it properly. Can you say: “More money than brains”? Anyway, we got thru the storm unscathed, and the rain was refreshing and much-needed.
My FIL decided he wanted to go home right away, so we took him to the airport on Weds morning, and he flew back to Jax. He didn’t like being away from my MIL for that long. Once he was on his way, we grabbed some breakfast, then rented a mini-storage unit for a bunch of the stuff I’d brought up with me. So Steve’s professional books and a bunch of framed pictures and prints are awaiting his new office. Next, we loaded all the dirty laundry into the van and headed up to my parents’ place.
We spent the afternoon visiting with my folks while I washed 11 days worth of laundry. They’ve got a really nice pool up there, and like a dummy, I forgot to pack my suit. So they all swam and I did laundry. My own fault. <sigh> The highlight of the afternoon came when I went to add the next-to-the-last load to the washer. There amid the whites, hunkered down comfily in Steve’s tighty-whities, was a mouse. Perfectly happy, not concerned when I turned on the light, just sitting there. I called Steve down, and he scooped it up in a plastic bucket. Then he and the kid took it out to the woods to release it. I know my folks had mice – last time we slept there, I heard them skittering around in the ceiling when we were asleep. Yet my mom asked if we brought it with us!!! Yes, Mom, of course. Steve always keeps mice in his underwear. :rolleyes: Naturally, this means that I have to buy him some unders with mice on them, or maybe draw some on myself…
Thursday, we were supposed to take the kid to stay with her old friend in King George, stopping en route to show her where our new lot is. We also stopped and bought Steve a cable modem since the cable guy was coming on Friday. Anyway, we drove all the way down into southern Maryland, across the $3.00 toll bridge, to Jessica’s house, only to be met by her mother and told she was running a high fever. Now, why we didn’t get a phone call to this effect much earlier, I’ll never know. So we chatted a bit, discussed picking up Jessica in the morning if she felt better, then headed back towards my sister’s place in Linthicum. We stopped in Dahlgren, VA for food, filled the tank, and were back on our way again. We visited with my sister for a while, until my friends arrived with Steve’s car. We left my van there and drove his car back to the marina for the night, my last night with him for a month <sniff sniff>
As we got off the interstate and were headed across Boston Street toward the marina, a little car in front of us was too far to the right, hit a pothole really hard, and we heard the tell-tale hiss of a tire losing its air. Even in the pre-dusk dimness, it was apparent that the tire was flat. We wondered how long before the driver realized what had happened, and after a few blocks, the car pulled over. Steve said “I’m not going to stop” – then we saw the driver was a single young woman alone. Needless to say, we pulled over and backed up to the stopped car. I got out with Steve so the girl wouldn’t be freaked out. She was a grad student at Hopkins, late for work, and she didn’t realize what she’d done. Nor did she have any idea how to change her tire. We gave her a cell phone to call her work, and Steve started loosening the lug nuts. The girl found the jack, but couldn’t locate the jack handle, which turned up attached to the panel that lay over the spare tire. It took about 10 minutes for him to change her tire. She’d bent the rim when she hit the hole, but the tire itself was probably OK. All the while, I was standing there with my kid, discussing the finer points of changing tires, knowing I needed to teach her how to do it. The girl was vary grateful and soon on her way, and we headed back to the marina. Karma earned. I’m married to a really nice guy, ya know?
We got up at 5 on Friday, showered, loaded into the car, and drove back to my sister’s place. We crammed all our stuff into the van, and thanked sis and BIL for their help. I got one last hug and kiss (I hate goodbyes) from Steve, then we were on our way before 6:30. Amazingly, we didn’t have a lot of traffic thru DC. The kid called and found out the Jessica was still sick, so we stopped in Fredericksburg for fuel and breakfast to go, then I let my friend drive, and we proceeded south.
We must have benefited from Steve’s good Karma – southbound traffic was fairly light most of the day and tho it was overcast, it hardly rained the whole way. My friends like to count stuff when they drive – like Beetles, PT Cruisers, and South of the Border billboards. We each had a turn at the wheel, including the kid, and we got back to Jax in just over 12 hours. After dropping off our counting couple, we ran by the grocery to get something for dinner, then finally got home before 8, tired and dirty and looking forward to clean sheets and quiet.
So it ends and begins. Steve will be living alone for the next 23 months or so. I’ll be driving up to visit him as often as possible. He’ll come visit us when he’s accumulated some vacation time. I’ve got to get the Perfect Child[sup]TM[/sup] out of high school and settled at college before I can move to Maryland. It’s going to be interesting. I know in the long run, it’ll be worth it, but dang, these next two years are gonna be rough. Stay tuned for further developments! And whining…
