Weeks 23-25: Special TRIPLE issue! With more boobies! And the Mid-Atlantic sucks!

Maryland is the weirdest shaped state

It’s Friday, Oct. 12, and I don’t have the energy to pack and go camping, but I promised our girls we would do it. Everyone is nervous about the upcoming surgery and we need to get out of the house. But it won’t happen at all if we don’t leave Friday because if we wait till Saturday morning, we will slip into late morning, and then early afternoon, and soon it won’t make sense to drive 4 hours just to camp overnight.

By 6pm, I have the car loaded. It’s so tight, I have no rear view and the girls have a wall of gear in between them in the back seat. They have to shout over it to communicate. (Mental note: I need a car roof box for camping.)

Maryland is easily the weirdest shaped state in America, right?  It takes forever to get from end to end.  (Here is a dude that got the outline of Maryland tattooed on his arm. um WTF?)  Even with the bridge that goes over the Bay, it takes 4 and a half hours to get to Assateague, which is only about 50 miles north of Norfolk, Virginia.

Upon arrival in the dark we unpack and try to start a fire. The campfire wood is wet and won’t catch. But it doesn’t matter. We pitch the tent and fall quickly asleep.
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Dawn raid on the grahm crackers

“THERE ARE THREE OF THEM, WATCH OUT” shouts a man’s voice.

I love awaking while camping. You are never really sure where you are for a few moments while your mind orients itself to it’s location. The same loud voice yells “STAY BACK, SON. OVER HERE” I sit up in my sleeping bag, and it’s a little cold, but not too bad. There is sun shining, but it’s still early and quiet. Quiet, except for Yelly McYell-Yell out there.

“IT”S OK, THEY ARE STANDING DOWN” Who the fuck is that guy, and what is he yelling about? My family is still asleep so I quietly unzip the tent to take a peek at the madman. I don’t see him, but 15 feet in front of me, trashing our campsite, are three hooligan ponies. I can see they found a box of graham crackers that were destined for smores. The inside packages must have been eaten whole because there is only a cardboard box left.

 Charcoal is spread everywhere. I watch as the lead goon picks up our last bag and empty the contents on the ground. Satisfied that they have eaten everything we have to offer, they head past our tent toward the man and his son, who had been watching.

“DON’T SHOW THEM YOUR BACK SON, THEY WILL CHARGE AND TRAMPLE YOU.” Yelly McYell-Yell is in full retreat from the ponies, pushing his son in the back, spilling his coffee as he runs.

With the coast clear, I can run to the car for the camera and snap a few pictures. Wow. It’s a perfect blue sky, light wind and cool. The dunes are blowing only a few hundred yards from our site. This is going to be a great day. Fortunately the damage is minimal.  We knew to keep most stuff in the car.

Kites and Bikes

After some breakfast, we fly kites I bought at costo in the spring. The wide open skies and light wind make it a breeze. It’s the first time they fly kites, ever and we have beautiful ones.

The girls learned to ride bikes this summer thanks to my dad, Chuck. With flat roads and little car traffic, they can bike with ease. Both take every opportunity to drive around the campground every second they can.

Lily loves the freedom of the road, and we let them go without helmets. Periodically, you can hear both of them yelling “Wah-Hooooo” from across our camping loop. Trish and I clean up the campsite and hop on bikes ourselves.

We ride up and down the island, four in a row, about 5 miles total. At the end of the road, a sandy path goes into the dunes. The bikes are left on the ground and we head toward the ocean. I think back to our trip to the Sahara.

Dinner

After a lunch on the beach and more biking, we all take a great nap. At dinnertime, the ponies come back to haze the newcomers at the next campsite. The fire lights tonight and we tell ghost stories. Impulsively I take Lily and Emma on a night bike ride with head lamps, which they find absolutely thrilling.

The next day we get up early and drive home. It’s sprinkling rain and overcast outside but inside the car the mood is cheery. Our Saturday in Assateague was so much fun.

No one in the family even remembered we are dealing with cancer for the last 36 hours. Mission accomplished.

Continued, so keep reading!

Related posts:

1. Week #16 : Blood, Buttercream, and Boobies: Ingredients of a Cancer-Killing Extravaganza
2. Weeks 25-34: A Post-Cancer World (1 of 2)
3. Weeks 35-42: A post-cancer world (2 of 2)