Blast off.

So, first, there was the trip to the beach, because if I say it's a "Ride Across America" I want it to be Across. America.

I left St. Mary's only about three hours late, after a feverish final day of packing, loading, repacking reloading forgetting things, rinse, repeat. I only recently found out that all the young women who live in the main house would be gone, about the same time as I was leaving, and so it seemed a good idea to try and round up some local folk to check on the house while I was away.

Except, I don't really know many people there... but now my neighbor Karen is totes on board with walking her dogs around the property every day, and reporting to the landlord if anything looks amiss. Thanks, Karen!

so now, you have seen the pictures of the bike in "full on pack" mode. The tail pack and the saddlebags were only recent acquisitions, after I was certain of which bike I was riding - so there was not a lot of time to practice, well... getting on and off. Getting off isn't really that hard (see what i did there?) but getting on....

Well, the best description I have come up with is akin to my description of my first venturings, years ago, on a moped... but less complimentary. Think of the hippos from Fantasia - if they all skipped Intermediate Ballet. Nonetheless, it gets a tiny bit easier, each time, and I have learned to stretch before trying to embark. There is video. Thanks, Bonnie. No, really....

The trip to the shore was uneventful. I say that as someone who has simply done the trip so many times that any trip that doesn't involve an electrical failure, a hurricane, dead relatives, or a war between rival household factions simply doesn't really count. It was hot, it was less long than i toculd have been, and the air conditioning at the motel was working. Fran, the clerk who was there at the SandCastle when Bonnie and I last visited was there on the night shift. Somehow we both forgot to mention and ask about the denouement of the Naked Guy in Pickup Situation from our last stay. See, this one, not so memorable.

All through this sojourn, I have been getting little signs from T - that have helped me know that i am on some not horrible path with this whole venture. Even though I was late, I got there much earlier than Bonnie, who had the bad fortune to have to work a half day. So I had some time to kill. I have decided that my presence on social media, as far as the outside world is concerned, will primarily be "checking in" - something I hardly ever do, ordinarily, but which I hope will continue to drum up support now that I am on the road. No sooner had I checked in at the beach than Deb Randall, Artistic Director of Venus Theatre and one of Tricia's true sister warriors, responded, "Alan's playing there, Today... no, wait - RIGHT NOW!"

Now I have met Alan, her husband, many times, but I have never, ever, seen one of his live shows - he is a very gifted musician, and I have kept "meaning" to catch a show... so the fact that i should finally DO it on the very first "Prep-day" of this is what I call an omen.

PS: The Alan Scott Band FUCKING SHREDS. Their cover of All along the watchtower almost had me up out of the first chair I had sat in in seven hours, after riding 6. And I got an Alan Scott selfie. So: FTW.

Bonnie, poor thing, made it down, and we hit Dogfish Head (or, the industrial compound formerly known as Dogfish Head - change is Hard) for a great dinner. back to the Sand Castle, and to bed, because: tired.

Saturday, we went to Arena's - my Coffee Shop away from home, for breakfast, and then drove down to Bethany to visit with Mary Clark, who had never met Bonnie. We had a lovely visit, right up to the point where they started referring to me in the third person and comparing notes, and then, Look! It was time for us to leave if we were going to make dinner... I forgot to get a pic of all of us together (with Mar's dog, Willy, who barked a lot at first, but then either remembered me or decided I didn't look appetizing and settled for scritches) But i did get a picture of this strange little memento someone had left on Mar's car downstairs...

Dinner at Nalu, the Hawaiian place I keep meaning to go to, which was both awesome and reasonable - oops - Bonnie - we left the leftovers in the fridge at the Sand Castle. Well, maybe it will seem like we aded to the tip. Back to the room, AFTER ice cream on the Avenue and a little time watching the Real Diamond Band at the bandstand - yes, it was a Neil Diamond tribute band, and I have to say, they were great - if you judge that by how like Neil Diamond they were. We stayed for Cracklin Rosie, and a couple other great oldies, not all them Diamond covers, but were tired, and so didn't hold out for Sweet Caroline, which was, I'm sure the encore to end all encores, for a certain kind of crowd favoring septagenarianism.

Bonnie mostly slept, while I cranked out the previous blog post, which sucked rockets, but it had been too long since I posted, and I wanted to talk about the n=bike dillemma, because it has really been the defining "thing" of the last few weeks, but I was too tired to be writing, especially when i was meant to be refining the "pack."

Nonetheless, I bet some of you read it, and no one has yet had the chutzpah to say "That was crap. Do better. You got our hopes up." ;-)

Feel Free. I won't be hurt.

So this a.m. we rose, and thanks entirely to Bonnie's gentle ministrations, I actually left the beach. I swear I think I was whining like a two year-old: "I can't, I'm skeered, it's too hard...." But we winnowed down the "pack" some - one piece of luggage has already bit the dust, and individual items to the tune of what i estimate to be 12 pounds or so.

I made it on the bike again, and we went to the end of Rehoboth Avenue, in sight of the Atlantic Ocean, and declared these Olympic Games of the 64th Olympiad Op - no, wait, we just said, "Okay, it's on. Get going. " And I left.

You can actually see the ocean in the background. "From Sea to Shining Sea." If I don't Die.

Oh, yeah - and BACK. 'Cause I'm an idiot.

We met up, one final time, at the Southern Grille in Ellendale DE, where we had been once before, and had a last breakfast together. If i ever have to chose a last meal - I'm serious, this place is in the running. I understand there is a "unscripted TV" show called something like Dives Diners, and Something - if they haven't covered the Southern, they are Not Even Legit. I take my Scrapple AND my sausage gravy very seriously, and these may be the best I've had. Go. Seriously.

That dessert case might as well be full of crack. Seriously.

The we really said our goodbyes, and Bonnie obligingly took video of me getting on the bike. in case she ever has to blackmail me. And I was off.

I slowed down only through Greenwod, DE, because Greenwood has always been a touchstone for me. But I'll talk about that in the next post.

Also - the GoPro is being a huge PITA, and so I don't have some of the video I hoped to have by now - going over the Bay Bridge on a cycle, what's it like to pass a Tesla like it's standing still, and more. I'll get it sorted, and I'll do the beachward video at the end instead of at the beginning is all.

For now, my body temp is almost back down under triple digits, and tonight's goal is Breezewood PA. So, ciao for now! Rubber Side Down.

More tonight.