The New Plan
The drive home
We arrived home Sunday night, with mixed feelings. Unsettledness dwarfed our relief walking into our house.
“Do you feel that too?” We asked each other. Even the dogs didn’t jump for joy, which was customary when we returned from travel.
“I would like to leave and be back on my bike in two weeks, three weeks at most,” Larry announced within the hour.
“Ok,” I said, walking to the wall calendar to make a note of the date. “That’ll be August 8th.”
On our first day back home, we harvested veggies from our overgrown garden, Larry walked the dogs while I started mounds of laundry, and we reconnected with a few neighbors (in essence I whined about my unappreciated travel existence to Amy across the street). After lunch we visited my stepson Adam and his wife Carly to say goodbye to the litter of Stabyhoun puppies that are going to their forever homes this week. They graciously allowed my friend Amy, a stranger into their home, to get a puppy fix too.
Amy gets a puppy fix.
I returned home via Amy while Larry went bike shopping. I unloaded and cleaned the interior of the camper, plus fell down the stairs.
Larry had decided to substitute his blue GIOS road bike for a touring bike better suited for long distance travel with a sturdier frame able to carry more weight, i.e. panniers.
He drove home with a red TREK 520 touring bike strapped in the back of Big White, grinning ear to ear.
“We need to name your new bike,” I said over honeydew melon bites at breakfast.
“The color name is unusual, it’s ‘strawberry sparkle.’” He answered. “It won’t be as fast on the flats, but more durable.” He continued to convince me of his wonderful purchase. (That’s ok, I already gave him the bike purchase - kitchen pass, it’s all about him this go around.)
‘Strawberry Sparkle,’ it has a nice ring to it, I’ll shorten it to ‘Sparkle’ or maybe ‘Sparky.’
Larry on Sparky
Today, day two, Larry took Charlie the camper in for a stove top recall. We got the notice months ago. He was instructed not to use the stove, ever again due to a faulty part and fire hazard. Dang. The new part is on order and expected in two weeks.
Summer dog goes to the vet Thursday and we’ll know more about diagnosis, treatment and travel restrictions.
Next week Big White goes in for her recall notice evaluation from before the trip started. It too is a dangerous proposal, fingers crossed it gets repaired in a timely manner, three weeks, we have three weeks self imposed.
Our nagging question continues to be, where will I drop off Larry to continue his ride? Fires have erupted across the west, two currently blocking his bike route from where we left off. We argued about the drop, he does not want to ride in smoke, I am trying to hold his feet to the fire and make sure he cycles every mile between Anacortes and Bar Harbor. Isn’t that what this is all about?
Talking to Betty last week I had an epiphany: Twenty plus years ago when I had the head injury, my boyfriend Larry spearheaded the ‘leave share program’ at work, where coworkers could donate their sick or vacation leave to my name. Eight men participated, six from Denver and two from Atlanta, with Larry donating an unimaginably large amount that kept me afloat for months. My mom said I needed to repay Larry. But this was impossible, because the amount was staggering and there was no way I could earn the extra funds.
I was, in fact, repaying him. I just didn’t know it.
This knowledge doesn’t mean I’ll quit harassing him about the bike trip, or egging him on about his daily mileage, or properly learn how to backup the trailer. What fun would that be?
Let me finish by volunteering to give up my position as sag wagon jock strap repayment to anyone else who would love to physically support Larry. I’m taking applications, jk.
‘Blue Hands Larry’
