Waiting on Da Boat

Waiting for something to get done is the hardest thing.  Especially when it has caused a complete stoppage of a dream trip.  And did I tell you that not one week after our boat was struck by lightning our OFFICE was struck by lightning?   Really crazy times.  While we wait, I can sit around being bored, as I've already mentioned, sweating in the camper, being miserable, complaining and being generally grumpy. And I did some of that because that is just my personality.  But yesterday, something motivated me to get moving.  Maybe it's the new Menopause One pill I started taking a few weeks ago; maybe it's because I'm 56 freaking years old and if I can't motivate myself, no one can.

So I saddled up old Bessie the Bright Blue Bike and we set off for a local bike trail.  Every time I get on this bike, the theme to Miss Gulch's bike ride in Wizard of Oz goes through my brain and my pace picks up speed.  Do do do-do do!

I like to pride myself on being ready for almost anything, but as I made my first stop on the trail (I only did about five miles or so), I realized that I had not packed a snack (oh my!) nor had I packed a poncho in case it rained (cats and dogs!).  This is very unlike me.  It may have had something to do with my fear of bicycles getting in the way of my brain cells functioning even a quarter of their usual ability. 

Yes, this woman who spent hundreds of hours on her bike as a kid in the 60s and 70s, starting with tricycles, moving up to banana bikes (remember them), and then to 10-speeds (my least favorite).    I remember delivering papers in a bikini on my bike (don't ask, just stupid teen brain).  I remember getting on my bike in the morning and biking down to Featherstone Park (in Woodbridge, VA), swimming all day, and then biking back home, without a helmet!!  I grew up in a trailer park surrounded by Route 1, apartment buildings, housing developments, and a shopping center.  I was always on my bike. 

As I got into adulthood, the automobile became my mode of transport.  I really never got back on a bike except for rare occasions.  Even at Cape Cod, my only motivation to get on a bike to ride was the destination of Guapo's for fish tacos and Margaritas.  A good reason, maybe, but what about the exercise and fresh air?  Yeah, fish tacos would win out every time.

So I rode on the Cross Island trail yesterday, which, even though it runs along Route 50 on Kent Island, means it is loud from the zillions of cars flying by in both directions.  But it is beautiful riding over the marshes and bridges watching birds and squirrels.  I got off the trail to make a stop for lunch (peanut butter crackers next time!), then came back to the marina via Route 18, which is a stupidly bad road for anyone to ride on, but I steeled myself and just did it. Kept that Wizard of Oz song going in my head and I was fine, except that I would really like to have one of those teeny rear-view-mirrors that attaches to the helmet.  That would have been handy, I think, though sometimes NOT know what is coming could be better.

Before I rode over the Kent Island bridge, I ventured down a side road to the crab boat docks.  Every time we drove over the bridge, I would think that I'd like to stop.  I love the working docks, whether for crabbing or fishing.  Just that atmosphere of hard, stinky work on really stinky boats has some appeal.  Old, really old boats, new boats, boats going through a retrofit.  They were all there. 

As I biked out of there, I was going over in my head my planned route to get on the East side of the Narrows.  I made a wrong turn and found myself in an under-the-bridge commuter parking lot adjacent to a small fishing pier.  Great view out to "our" side, where the boat is in the marina boatyard, but not exactly where I wanted to be.

 

Got back on the bike and rode over the bridge, but of course, stopped in the middle to take a photo of a crab boat fighting against the crazy current to make its way under the bridge.  I do this when I'm driving, too, making my family crazy.  And this area is especially full of wonderful photo opportunities, day and night.

Even though I had already been out for two hours, I kind of wanted to ride more (yeah, me!).  I was sensible and headed in to the boatyard.  That felt really good, because I went out and I went out on my own, definitely out of my comfort zone.

So yes, the waiting is uncomfortable and sometimes hard, but if you ever find yourself in similar circumstances, listen to the wild(er) side and do something you would not ordinarily do.  Ride on!

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