Life in the Fast Lane

Life in the fast lane
Originally uploaded by mike1727.

RIP Jimi Hendrix November 27, 1942 – September 18, 1970

"The story of life is quicker than the wink of an eye, the

story of life is hello and goodbye, until we meet again."

Slow Your Roll

As we move in to my favorite season (or rather erstwhile favorite season, thanks to F YEAH!!! FOOTBALL!), I lament the passing of the warm seasons where it was light out until 8:00 and I could ride my bike after work. Yes, without a helmet, and yes, without all the cycling accoutrements Big Cycling likes to push on people. I had finally embraced the fresh-air sandwiches and daily exercise biking provided and was noticing a difference in my body as well. So that’s my lead for this entry: this past Spring, this indoor girl became…wait for it…pro-cyclist.

My husband recently directed me to a commentary by (I thought) one of my fave writers I studied in college, Mr. PJ O’ Rourke. It’s been determined in our household, after several combative political and social discussions, that I am a Libertarian. O’ Rourke is described in the media as “best described as a Libertarian,” so you’d think we’d be on the same page about at least most things. And I’m sure we are.
However, the link to which I will direct you, dear reader, has me questioning with whom I’ve allied myself. It is an example of how one cannot be pigeon-holed into a certain category, or branded with a certain label, as his thoughts sound like cyclists should have no rights because they are unsightly and cyclists themselves smell of sweat. He stops short of calling for a bicycle recall or ban. Hardly a Libertarian train of thought, n’est-ce pas? I think what’s really going on here is PJ can’t ride a bike and is quite bitter as a result: A Cool and Logical Analysis of the Bicycle Menace

But I digress. As the wife of an avid cyclist, who I’m careful to mention does his part for The Solution by commuting to and from Wash DC every day on the very “childish” and “undignified” contraption of which Mr. O’ Rourke speaks, I am offended by anyone who does not have the utmost respect for a cyclist on the road. (Well, I don't offend easily, so let's just say it sure justifies my misanthropy.) If you see someone on a bike, they are on that bike for one of two reasons: transportation or recreation, both of which are admirable objectives that should be deeply respected in this age of gridlock, and social sloth and obesity. Sure, they may blow through Stop signs and put themselves in danger; but so what? So do kids and dogs. Joggers do it too, and so do cars quite frankly. It’s called defensive driving, and it’s covered on that big test at the DMV. But these obstacles are going a fraction of the speed of a car, particularly in this area, and regardless: Pedestrians have the right-of-way. Check your DMV study book, people. If you see someone walking on the road, even if they are going in the opposite direction on roller skates or pushing a stroller across a busy no-crosswalk intersection (which I’ve seen out my office window many times) cars have to break for them. Because, um, it would suck to hit someone and kill them.

So who has the right of way on the road? Not convinced it’s the cyclists? Wanna get legal about it? Maybe you’ll take lawyer Robert Mionske’s word for it. He writes a column for premier cycling rag Velo News called Legally Speaking, and posted this on the matter:

“A New Jersey court had to decide this in Eichinger v. Krouse, a 1929 case in which a boy wheeling himself down the sidewalk on a scooter entered a crosswalk and was struck by a truck. The truck driver argued that state law required him to stop only for pedestrians in the crosswalk, and that New Jersey defined pedestrians as "those who go about on their feet." The court held that the boy should be considered a pedestrian:

‘While it is understood [that a pedestrian] is one who travels on foot, nevertheless the mere circumstance that he or she has attached to his or her feet roller skates, or ice skates, or walks on stilts, or uses crutches, or is without feet and propels himself or herself along by means of a chair or some other mechanical device, does not clothe him or her with any other character than that of a pedestrian.’

A later ruling contested that decision. But an even later ruling supported it and Mionske says that is the ruling that is upheld today:

“By World War II the general consensus among states was that any human-powered conveyance moving at a speed significantly less than that of motor vehicles should be considered a pedestrian when in a crosswalk. As one California judge put it in a 1952 case, Jermane v. Forfar:

‘The purpose of the law is to safeguard human life, and it should not be construed so as to make it applicable only to persons walking heels-and-toe. We cannot escape the conviction that the term 'walking in the highway' was intended to be inclusive of all persons in the street, standing or moving therein, when using their legs and feet.’

The question I have for the disgruntled commuters who like to try and run cyclists off the road: Just what exactly are you trying to prove? That this road ain't big enough for the both of us? That you have a blatant disregard for human life? That you are insanely envious of the speed with which the cyclist is commuting home while your fat ass waits out yet another red light in your well-broken-in driver’s seat? Bikers have so few concessions in this area, and they’re just trying to get to where they’re going like the rest of us. Just let them pass, and cycle their way right out of your life.

Dubya and Little Richard

For those of you who aren't sick of the Geico commercial featuring Little Richard (or Dubya for that matter), here's a spoof:

South Korean Kid Plays a Mean Guitar

Almost nine million people have watched the following video of a kid from Seoul playing Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D on electric guitar. I promise this will be a bit more uplifting than the last YouTube posted.

Take from it what you will

Proof that people will say and do whatever it takes to get out of a dire situation. It's a wonder how some kidnapped journalists' lives are saved while others aren't so fortunate.

Centanni, Wiig convert to Islam

Copper Mine Dump Truck

Copper Mine Dump Truck
Originally uploaded by LeggNet.

Here are some examples of a really cool effect that people with more photography skills and equipment than myself can accomplish.

Fenway Fake Miniature

Fenway Tilt-Shift Collabo
Originally uploaded by girlzone41.

A tilt shift (fake miniature) of Fenway Park in Boston.

There are no mini disasters

There are no mini disasters
Originally uploaded by Automatt.

Another example of a photography effect called tilt shift.

Miniatures are cool

PICT1760-Edit
Originally uploaded by malanalars.

Is it just me or does this look fake. Just in case you're unsure, it's not.

HOV Traffic Waits for No Man, Even the President

It doesn't matter where you're from or what party you align yourself with, this has got to be one of the most boneheaded ideas you, or I, have ever heard. If you think otherwise after reading the following article I’d love to hear it in the comments section of this post. It goes a long way in displaying how out of touch those at the top of the political spectrum are with the average, hard-working, hard-commuting American.

The idea that a politician (and in this case, not just any politician) would consider crippling the D.C. evening rush hour for a partisan fundraising event is infuriating at the very least. This official in question is (currently) a Washingtonian; he knows the hell people go through on the area's major arteries just to get home after a long day. I think my lovely wife Kelly said it best, “It’s not that [politicians] don’t realize what they’re doing, they just don’t care.” George Allen, host of the aforementioned event, is still trying to save face after the whole "Macaca" fiasco, I’m not sure he wants to have every DC commuter pissed off at him as well.

Besides, who takes 395 to Mount Vernon??

From today’s Post…

Wouldn't it be nice to have the highway all to yourself? All alone during rush hour, whizzing down Interstate 395 with not a single car or bus to get in your way? Alas, even the leader of the free world doesn't get that kind of treatment.

Not that he didn't ask.

On Tuesday, the Secret Service asked Virginia officials if they would be kind enough to shut down all of the HOV lanes on I-395 from 1 to 7 p.m. the next day so President Bush could get where he needed to be, according to state officials who spoke on condition of anonymity because of the sensitivity of discussing the president's travel.

The request was made ahead of a fundraiser for Sen. George Allen (R) held at 5:30 p.m. Wednesday at a house near Mount Vernon -- a good hour's drive from 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. during a typical rush hour. Read more...

If you haven't seen this yet, it's worth taking a look

Kings Dominion

On the Anaconda, which I say is next to Busch Gardens' Loch Ness as Best Roller Coaster Ever. Some great corkscrew loops, super fast, and not *too* shaky--at least not compared to the Hypersonic and Volcano rides, which we overheard one rider say were comparable to the feeling of taking off in a supersonic jet or something like that. There were definitely G forces involved in those ones.

Notice how I am gripping the outside of my chest-brace thingy. I was nervous that it was moving a bit even though I know it was locked!! I guess the rationale there is if I'm not properly locked in, I'll keep myself from being thrown off the ride by holding down on the thingy. Like that great Seinfeld bit about transporting mattresses on the roof of your car and holding it with one hand out the window for added security: "I got it, I got it."

Some great during-the-ride shots from Chris!

Going up into a loop! I'm holding on for dear life, Chris is shooting photos.




A great self-portrait taken coming out of a loop. We were in the front car so it's cool to see the rest of the train behind us.

The kid in front of us on (I think) Rebel Yell.

This is the aforementioned Hypersonic. This ride was intense, and not for the faint of heart. Literally. The whole ride lasts about 1 minute--maybe less--and the thrill is the speed with which you "launch" in the beginning, and the angle of this, the only notable rise and drop. You go straight up and straight down at astonishing speed. An unsuspecting thrillseeker with a heart arrhythmia or something like that could have some real problems after this one. Awesome!



Ever wonder what it would feel like to take the elevator to the top of skyscraper and then have it lose control on the way back down? Check out the Big Drop. (That may not be the proper name for it but that's what we called it.) We are not on this particular one; we're just watching it as Chris and Lauren's brother Brian try to convince me, Lore Lore and Lauren's sister Colleen to ride it.

Kelly and Lauren watching the Big Drop.



It's our turn. I didn't really want to ride this but there were a ton of kids on it! I couldn't let those little punks show me up. I reminded Colleen of this too :) I planned to keep my eyes closed the entire time, which I did but I think it made it even worse. I told Fearless Chris to tell me when the drop was coming, but I could hear that we had reached the top of the ride and knew it would be imminent. I peaked through my squinted eyes at the surrounding Virginia landscape, which was terrifying. And then after a three-second drop, it was all over.

A great shot of Lauren, Brian and Colleen, but seen in the reflection of the ridemastser's booth as we awaited the rise on the Big Drop. You're in these harnesses that restrict your movement so much that Chris couldn't turn next to him to get the picture. So we noticed the reflection and took a chance and it turned out pretty good! Chris was later busted by said ridemaster and told he couldn't take the camera on the ride, which thwarted his plans to get some killer scenic shots of above the park. What a party pooper.

Visibly shaken after the Big Drop.

Lore Lore gives the Grizzly her approval. Way too jerky for me, though. I'm nursing bruises on my elbows from the wooden coasters: Grizzly, Rebel Yell and the Hurler.

Waiting in line at the Log Flume in front of the big-splash-finish.





A couple more spins on the Anaconda.

Colleen and Lauren



Lauren finally gets her much-sought-after chocolate/vanilla ice cream cone as we wind down for the day.

And so does Chris.

Saturday afternoon ride

I'm trying to up my milage in preparation of a triathlon relay I'm doing on September 16 at Lake Anna in Spotslyvania. As you might guess, I'm doing the bike portion, which is 56 miles. Here's a look at the route I took on Saturday the 19th.

The Rhythm Devils

8/18/2006 The Birchmere - Alexandria, VA
Mickey Hart, Bill Kreutzmann, Mike Gordon, Steve Kimock

Revolution (Los Lobos)->GDTRFB, Bogua Osi, The Center, Sugaree, Fountains of Wind

FOTM, Why Don't you Think You Are->Crazy Beam Shit, Crazy African Tribal Shit, Drumz(short)->Other One->Scarlet coda

Ripple

That's quite a burger ya got there!

The Tank boys' childhood friend Jackie Hurst, back in town after a stint in South Carolina/West Virginia, tries to take a bite out of her oversized hamburger at an impromptu cookout before Chris' brother Andy heads back to law school at University of Richmond.

It turns out bigger is not always better. (Recipe credit to my pops, Robert G. Brooks.)

A Personalized Reply From First-Mate Candles

CHRIS AND KELLY!!

It's been too long since I wrote that, and way too long since I had
cause to say that!

How the hell are you two doing? Life in DC treating you ok?

I guess you already know since Bilqis sent you pictures of our newly
acquired pet that I'm sailing in the Pacific at the moment. The crew
for Bilqis' dad's boat got sick in Vanuatu and they needed people fast.
Of course I was only too happy to oblige, so here I am, right now just
about halfway between Vanuatu and the east coast of Australia. Seems it
took an ocean for me to finally get off my lazy ass and write to two
great friends.

Btw, Bilqis and I moved from Melbourne to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
Back home for her. It took me two months of racking my brain to decide to
come as well. And I can tell you guys, as I can't tell anyone else I
know here because they're all Bilqis' friends and relatives, that after
4 months in KL, and still not being able to find a job, I'm getting a
bit antsy. Bilqis has jumped into all the things she wanted to do here,
I'm still getting my bearings. Anyway, it's good to get the bad news
out first thing. Otherwise, life in KL is OK. Good food, and cheap, we
have a nice apartment in the middle of the city, occasionally I get to
go sailing and diving.

Last November I did my first big sail on the same boat I'm on now.
The boat started three years ago a trip around the world (just cause Bilqis'
dad wanted his boat to go around the world) and I came aboard
for the Atlantic crossing. We entered this event called the ARC(Atlantic Rally
Crossing). About 225 boats crossing the Atlantic at the same time.
Had a great time. We were actually racing, so no motoring at all, and no
autopilot, had a really good time, really enjoyed the whole experience.
It took us 18 days 6 hours and I think we came in fourth.
Anyway, since I had had that experience the skipper asked if I was
available to come to Vanuatu on short notice, and here I am.

It looks like the skippers wife needs to get online to check the
weather reports now. I'll write some more in a couple days.
We still have at least six days until we get to Thursday Island
off the northernmost tip of Australia and from there we sail down
to Darwin on the north coast of Australia farther west. Should be
another week and a half at the very least. So, till next time.

Oh, btw, I can only check this email address while I'm on the boat. My
usual address is the same, pzyler@hotmail.com. But write back to this
one if you want me to get it while we're sailing. And put something in
the subject like 'For Brian' or something like that to let us know who
it's for, cause we're all getting our mail sent to the same address.
Cheers! (yeah, yeah, too much time in Oz)

Miss you two,
Brian

The Dental Misadventures of Mr. Hank

Chris had his much-dreaded dentist appointment this morning,
and spoke exclusively to me about the experience.

KB: Today, at the age of 29, you endured your first cavity filling.
Were you genuinely frightened? And if so, what part of the
procedure caused you the most duress?

CT: I was more uneasy than frightened. I was most concerned with
the possibility of feeling the drill, meaning the Novocaine wasn't
doing its job. Kinda like the horror stories you read about people
waking up during surgery.

KB: I heard you received some inspirational counsel from
family members. What stories of past dental discomfort
resonated with you the most? What gave you the courage
to open wide without reservation?

CT: It wasn't so much anyone else's past dental stories that worried
me as much as my prior dental experiences. In my mind, I already
dread the cleaning, and this has got to be worse, right?
[My sister-in-law] Mer really helped by telling me how it's
no big deal, as we're on the same wavelength with so many other things.

KB: Describe for our readers the unique technique Dr. Kan
performed to distract you while administering the shot of Novocaine.

CT: She employed a technique where she constantly yanked on
the inside of my cheek (on the side of my mouth with the cavity)
with her finger. The hygienist (who thinks I'm "Mr. Hank") was holding
Mr. Thirsty in the other side of my mouth. I think the idea here is to
make it so there's so much else going on that you don't even realize
the shot is taking place.

KB: I've heard the smell from the drill cutting through teeth can
be bothersome. Was this something you noticed?

CT: I noticed no smell.

KB: You listened to your iPod throughout. What were
you listening to?

CT: The rare "Enhanced EP" from Wilco. It's a short tracklist that
goes a little something like this: A Magazine Called Sunset,
Bob Dylan's 49th Beard, Handshake Drugs, Kamera,
More Like the Moon, Woodgrain. The procedure was over
before Handshake Drugs!

KB: What were you thinking about during the procedure?

CT: I tried to lose myself in the soothing sounds of Jeff Tweedy
and Wilco but I couldn't really get the thought of the drill grinding
away at my tooth out of my head. Even though I couldn't feel a
thing I kept waiting for something that would propel me out of that chair.

KB: Compare a cavity filling to a standard cleaning.

CT: In the end it was quicker and more painless. They didn't employ
the scraping pick thing once!

KB: What was the worst part about undergoing the procedure today?

CT: The $100 deductible.

KB: What did the procedure teach you about dental care?

CT: Be sure to get a cleaning every six months!

Message in a Bottle

Our friend Brian "Candles" Candler, who was a groomsmen in our wedding, has been sailing the Pacific on his girlfriend Bilqis' father's yacht. His emails read like excerpts from the whaling logs I had to read in college! Very exciting, particularly for us nine-to-fivers plugging away at the daily grind. And for the kids, grab your Rand McNally and trace Brian's trip using the coordinates below. Enjoy! Or rather, Ahoy!


Hello again from the south pacific,

Finally, a bit of excitement. Khayyam dropped a lure in when he saw we were heading straight for a large group of birds getting excited over something at the surface. Obviously some action, and action means fish. But of course we weren't the first besides the birds to arrive at the party. As soon as we came level with the birds we saw sharks in the water. A big group of them going mad over the school of fish that were just a bit ahead of them. Not huge ones, 6-8 feet brown ones, big enough. Khayyam tried to get his lure in before it was hit but no good, a fish grabbed it as soon as he went for it. And I'll bet there's nothing more fun for a shark than a good chase. We watched the fin just trailing the fish on the end of the line for a couple of seconds before, with a huge lunge and a splash the shark grabbed the fish and dived down and the line just snapped clean. Whole thing only lasted a minute but again, haven't seen anything but birds and water. Doesn't take much to get us out on deck in a hurry.

After four days we've gone about 550 nautical miles. Only 1000 left till Thursday Island! For anyone who wants to know, we're doing the 3 watch rotation, 4h daylight, 3h night and I'm on watch with Vikki. She's been swabbing the deck with me at backgammon. Otherwise alls just checking George(the autopilot) is ok, giving him a rest every now and then and scanning the horizon for ships that we know aren't there.

Alright, if it keeps up like this I won't keep giving you guys updates until something really interesting happens. I mean, I could go on and on about how beautiful it is in the middle of the ocean even when it's overcast, but let's be honest, I'm no Henry Thoreau. I'll just say, it's stunning beauty out here, it's hard not to see it when you're surrounded by unfiltered nature in so many different conditions. Ok, enough waxing on from me.

Love,
Brian

And when I say, just about there, I mean in about 2 nm John and Vikki will have reached the longitude they started this whole around the world trip from 2 and a half years ago. I think John's looking a bit dizzy.

I wonder sometimes how this boat stays together. John discovered in the night that the bolt keeping the boom connected to the mast at was sheared right through. I guess it inspires a little confidence that the bolt seemed to have been broken for a while and the boom hadn't fallen down yet, but still...important bit of steel at that.

Saw two tankers night before last passed us to stbd. Found out that I still can't tell that the light that should be green is actually green. I guess our arguments over what color my clothes are still haven't come to an end.

Just came off watch and I've finally beaten Vikki at backgammon. Ah, the little moments. Yesterday morning she told me that I was going to beat her at backgammon and that we were going to see a whale! Well I'll tell you I was looking forward to our watch yesterday. Unfortunately I didn't win, so of course we couldn't see a whale. It's a real bummer, cause and effect.

As per request:
We left Port Vila, Vanuatu(approx 17 45' S, 168 17' E) six days ago. Current location is 14 18' S, 153 11' E. If your interested, we're heading for Raine Island Entrance(11 35'S, 144 0'E), one of the easier to navigate entrances to the Barrier Reef. We have to arrive at the entrance at daybreak so we have a good full day to be able to see the reefs. Anyway, just an fyi.

Thanks for all the replies everybody. I'm gonna go ask Vikki if she'll teach me the proper way to attach a mousing line. And maybe I'll practice my whipping. You see how fun sailing can be!

Cheers,
Brian

We miss ya Bri Guy. Stay safe out there, and we hope to see you and Bilqis this Christmas.

Meredith Does D.C.

Aug. 15, 2006

Back to work this week after a relaxing fun-filled weekend with Sissy, who came up on Saturday morning to hang out for a couple days. Upon arrival, we headed over to our beloved Carlyle in Shirlington for Saturday brunch. Chris and I go there almost once a week for dinner, and have done so for the last year; and so now we are moving on to the brunch, which is as delicious as I had dreamed. I got the grilled trout; Chris got the filet and Eggs Benedict; Meredith kept it real with French Toast.

After brunch, Chris met up with his buddy Ryan Gates, who needed his help in moving some furniture before his impending move to Chicago. He has since left :( Mer and I headed over to Old Town Alexandria, and then Pentagon City to do a little shopping. We met back up with Chris around 5 for a happy hour before going to my friend Melissa's engagement BBQ. Mer introduced me to cherry vodka and Sprite, which was really good. However, I had introduced myself to sugar-free Red Bull and vodka, and that became my new fave. We grew hungry and didn't think we could wait for the BBQ so we grilled some steaks out on the porch. Chris had a hell of a time getting the grill to stay lit; at one point there was a fireball so big our neighbor came out to check on us! But no worries, we got it lit and enjoyed some yummy sirloins before heading over to Mel's.

We hung out at the BBQ for a bit where I got to see my erstwhile work buddy Lauren Davis and her hubby Jake, and then we headed over to Clare and Don's in Clarendon for a little Karaoke. Mer and I dueted on Captain and Tennille's Love Will Keep Us Together, Whitney Houston's I Wanna Dance With Somebody, and later joined my colleague Davis White on a lively rendition of Meat Loaf's Paradise By the Dashboard Light. Ain't no doubt about it, we were doubly blessed! (But we were fully dressed.) All partied out and Karaoke over, we headed home around 2.

Sunday, Mer and I enjoyed a *beautiful* day by the Fairlington pool. Crystal blue sky and frequent breezes to keep you cool. It was perfect. Chris took the opportunity to get in a good ride, as he is 1/3 of a triathlon team competing in September. Once Mer and I tired of the pool around 3, we went home and watched Rent until Chris got back. The plan for the evening was to go to Georgetown for dinner so we began to shower and get ready, and headed out for dinner around 7. We took the GW Parkway so Mer could see the monuments and bridges that line the Potomac, which was seasonally active with jet-skiers and boaters. We scored a great parking spot on M St. and walked down to Washington Harbour, then on to eat. The restaurant we wanted (Sea Catch) was closed so we ended up at Paper Moon Restaurant right across the street. Seven out of 10 stars. It definitely hit the spot but I don't think any of us were blown away by our meals, particularly Mer who is indeed a pasta afficionado. After showing Mer the Exorcist Steps on M St., we were all a bit tuckered out from the night before and had to work the next day, so we made it an early night back at the apartment.

Mer, we had such a fun time, and cannot wait for you to come up again soon :)

K

The Lake House

No, this is not a review of the seemingly dreadful Sandra Bullock/Keanu Reeves time-travel-romance drama currently in theatres, but rather a review of our excellent adventure to Lake Ontario in upstate New York.

Day 1-2

The trip began on Tuesday morning, bright and early. Chris’ brother Andy slept over so we could get going by 10 at the latest. And we actually stuck to this ETD—or at least within an hour of it. We packed all our camping gear, including our trusty tent and foldable camping chairs, some food and beverage and Miss Marley, and were on the road by 11. Prepared for an eight hour drive, we were pleasantly surprised as we tore through Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania, and found ourselves in NY at the lake house by 7 p.m.

We had hoped to get there in time to take a dip in the lake after setting up camp, as I have always wanted to camp on a packed-sand beach where you could have your campsite right at the shore of a body of water, into which you could jump in and cool off throughout the day. But alas, I don’t think those sort of setups exist anymore, at least not in a state park, which is where we were. The lake was close by though so it was just a short walk. But I think we were all a bit disappointed that it was only of wading depth.

We set up our camp in the backyard of the Taft Cottage, the (very) rustic house shared by Chris’ Aunt Janet and Uncle Peter and their two lovely daughters, Kate and Laura. And of course their beautiful mutt Miss Holly. Think classic New England clapboard cottage except without any luxuries or accoutrements. Just walls, bathroom, kitchen and windows, some of which had screens in them. Chris had other family members staying in the house across the street: Aunt Lou and her family, and Uncle Paul and his. My mother-in-law Kathy was not due until the next day.

Night fell shortly thereafter and so we sat around the campfire with the Wessels, catching up and enjoying some bratwursts and whiskey. And I had my first S’Mores! We hadn’t yet been affected by the heat or bugs, and simply enjoyed the company of fun relatives we don’t get to see enough.

The next day was long and active. When you are camping, or even just vacationing in a rustic lake house environment, mornings start with the rising of the sun. There are no curtains on the windows to block the sun’s morning rays, so when the sun rises, so do you. Especially if you are in a tent. The morning heat in a weatherproof tent can be stifling. So that first morning found Andy, Chris and me up at 4:30, all for different reasons. Chris was just hot. It was too hot to get in your sleeping bag, but too chilly to stay out of it. Andy was sleeping out in the elements, and awoke due to a combination of bugs, heat and dehydration/gnarly mouth due to alcohol intake. I too awoke from a case of dehydration and gnarly mouth. Nothing tastes worse than whiskey breath in the morning. But what else is there to do around the campfire at night except sing Kumbaya??

When I wake up like that, the only thing that would even possibly put me back to sleep is a hot shower and a toothbrushing. Here’s where that lake house came in handy, for sure. I went inside, brushed my teeth and couldn’t find the shower upstairs in the dark, so I put my head under the sink in the downstairs bathroom. This would at least give me that just-showered feeling for the top quarter of my body. Enough to allow me to doze off, it turns out, as I spread my sleeping bag out on a couch with a busted foundation in the middle (think V-shaped) and tried to doze off before the house awoke. I knew I had a big day ahead of me so I knew I needed at least some true rest. I must have dozed because the next thing I remember were the sounds of the morning. Holly charged downstairs, her super-long leash clanging the whole way, and Uncle Peter began getting the coffee ready. Time: 6:30 a.m.

Chris and Andy were up soon thereafter, and after some eggs and green tea, Aunt Adele and her kids walked over and the day’s agenda began to develop. First stop: somewhere for Marley to go swimming. She loves to swim and was itching to get in the surrounding water ASAP. We headed out with cousins in tow, and found a little nook that worked perfectly. The kids got a kick out of watching Marley swim out a fetch her stick. She goes long before you even throw the stick, and only her little tail sticks out of the water as she swims back with it in her mouth. I love to watch her feet work like a duck's under the water. I know I’m biased but she’s the cutest dog ever. (Holly, you are a close second.)

After Marley’s swim, Chris and I decided to beat the heat with a swim of our own. We changed into our swimsuits and rode our bikes down to the lake area. There’s an East Beach, and a West Beach, and only one was open for the day. And it didn’t open til 10! It felt like we’d been up for a while, but it was still so early. We probably finished Marley’s swim around 9:30 or so. So we had to hold off on swimming.

Uncle Paul had rented a rowboat and two kayaks for the day, so we decided to go watch them in the pond. After they shipped out, there was an extra kayak paddle. Chris and I took a canoe out of the lake (which I don’t think we were technically allowed to do) and used the kayak paddle to row across. What a great workout that was! I did most of the paddling — ahem — and did very well for someone who is rather un-athletic. But I’ve realized I am more athletic than I thought. Maybe I could have been some great crew star! I don’t lack the physical ability to participate in sports, but rather the competitive drive.

After the pond, I wanted to go to the beach, and Chris of course had to fit in a ride. So I walked over to the lake and sunbathed for a couple hours. It was nice and relaxing, until the incident. I went out in the too-shallow water, and desperate to cool off my whole body, did a surface dive. It was a poor decision, and I obviously didn’t have the clearance to do so, as I scraped my foot alongside the bottom and took off a too-long toenail. It’s still on there but I keep a BandAid on the toe in hopes that the skin or nail will just regenerate itself and stick back on or something. Understandably I don’t have the stomach to just rip it off.

Adele, Lou, et al. eventually joined me at the beach so we got to talk and stuff before the kids wanted to go over to the high-dive area. This was a body of water I will not soon forget, and I use the term “water” rather fluidly. It was a canal of stagnant, algae-topped water that was deep enough to dive into, so kids love it. After watching all the fun dives, I decided I was already dirty so what’s the difference if I jump into this dirty water. I am envious of kids because they don’t think practically. They only see the high-dive board. I see the brown bubbles that surround the body that has just cannonballed into the water. Gnarly, but fun indeed.

Once Chris came back from his ride it was time to start thinking about dinner. I can’t remember what exactly we dined on, but it was an early night. Kathy arrived in the late afternoon and again we closed out the night by hanging around the campfire outside the house. The kids played Apples and Apples and made more S’Mores while others chatted and applied bug spray. The party broke up around 9. Everyone was tired from the first big day, but also the bugs were becoming a nuisance. I should have known better at that point, but I continued to wear my beloved flip-flops throughout the trip, traipsing through the infested grass with nary a care in the world. I had no idea was a living, breathing chigger feast.

Day 3

When we woke up on Thursday, Andy, Chris and I all were hurting a bit. The heat, long days and less than ideal sleeping conditions were starting to take their toll. Also, we were slightly sunburned so the thought of more outdoor activities was unappealing. We decided to get showers and head into town for some AC.





Upon arrival in Oswego, we walked around a bit, made a quick stop for a souvenir and then hit up the local Friendly's. I had not had a Friendly's sundae since grade school, and the Tank boys had never been so it was an easy choice. We enjoyed the AC, greasy food, sweet and gooey ice cream, and of course the local patrons. That's the best part about going to small towns--the peoplewatching. And I mean that with all due respect to the great citizens of Oswego.

When we got back to the house, it was still freaking hot. So now we were all full on sugar and fat, with Andy and I awaiting an inevitable crash, in a hot house. We each found a couch or chair, some reading material, and just let the heat put us to sleep. Which is fine, as I love to waste the day sleeping every now and then. But when you wake up, you're still hot and there's nothing going on, it can seem kinda bleak. So we decided to lather up with sunscreen and hit the beach.

After applying a *thick* layer of 50 sunscreen on Chris and not rubbing it in all the way to prevent any further burning, we joined the rest of the crew at the lake. When it's hot like that, you definitely don' t want to be inside so it was really the best decision. Thankfully, some clouds rolled in soon thereafter and we could enjoy the beach without worry. (Even though I did get a richer tan through the overcast--I love it when that happens!)

That night, our last night there, it was Mexican night for dinner. Getting a vibe that there was not enough alcohol or ground beef to make Mexican night tolerable for Andy, Chris and me, we jetted over to the Cask and Flask to pick up some provisions. It was there that my left hand was nearly taken off by a Springer Spaniel in heat. I'm a dog lover so I was understanding but had it been someone more argumentative, they could have had some trouble on their hands.

We got back to the house with 1.5 pounds of extra ground beef and one mildly tender surface wound to find that we had missed Mexican night. Timing is everything, and when your eating with a crowd of 20, you better be there when it's served :)

Day 4

Friday morning we awoke to first thunderstorm the whole trip. We had sustained general rumbling in the skies and a brief shower here and there, but Friday morning the sky opened up. I was up super early in the house, as Miss Holly was freaking out, which had Peter and Janet downstairs around 6. I imagined Marley was surely freaking out outside in the tent, so I ran out there (barefoot! stupid!) to grab her while Chris finished putting the rain fly on the tent, which by that time contained him *and* Andy. Awwww!

It was assumed the rain would let up as it had done all week, but alas, it did not. Andy said later it sounded like the tent was under fire the rain was coming down so hard. Peter and Janet were up but I just couldn't stay up at 6:00 am. I grabbed my sleeping bag and Marley and went to lay up on the floor in Kathy's room, and just listened to the rain, which quickly lulled me to sleep. Chris and Andy came in from the storm shortly thereafter, having pushed the contents of our campsite under the sun shelter and resigning to just let what may get wet, get wet. Chris joined me up in his mom's room and we got one of the first instances of cozy sleep we'd had all week listening to the storm.

The problem was, we had to be out of the house by 11 am, and the rain was not stopping. We (but mostly Chris) had to break down the campsite and pack up the car in the rain. We were all soaked as we got in our cars and headed to Buffalo for the second leg of the trip. Final destination, Peter and Janet's house to unpack, and then off to Grandma Kay's to visit before dinner: the Fish Fry.





"Fish Fry" was the term I heard used listening to Kathy and her sisters make plans for dinner. "I was thinking we could just do a Fish Fry," said Aunt Lou. "Fish Fry?," I asked. "What's that? You mean like a clambake? Frying fish outside?" Adele, Lou and Kathy couldn't understand how I'd never heard that term. Turns out it's a Catholic term, stemming from the Lent tradition of abstaining from meat on Fridays and thus eating fish instead. Kathy tells me you don't even have to eat fish at a "fish fry," and if you do, it doesn't have to be fried. So I ask, "isn't that just called going out to dinner?" Somehow now. Me partaking in a Fish Fry then became an exciting premise for Kathy, even though I had had fried fish and french fries (fish and chips where I'm from) countless times in my life. I even discuss that in my honeymoon/Vancouver entry, about what an afficionado I am. Even still, when I ordered my fish and chips and then again when they arrived, Kathy got a look of excitement in her eyes as i was about to experience a "Fish Fry." While very good, it tasted like many other fish and chips in my life. Driving out of New York, I saw that term outside of a few restaurants; I think that's just what they call Fish and Chips up north.