I pulled into the vacation house just after three o'clock this afternoon. I was early. The cleaners were still there picking up from the last crew. I didn't bother to even ask if I could come in, I just walked around back, took my boots off and sat next to the pool, waiting for the rest of the family to show up. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore, just a few yards away, over the sand dune, helped relax my weary bones. I'm willing to admit I have weary bones. Twelve straight days of riding is a new experience. Not sure I'll ever do it again, but I can say I did it this one time.
Today was an easy ride. Took the interstate over to Virginia beach for lunch at Rockafeller's. Then I hit the back roads to get me back to the highway and on my way down to the Outer Banks. One thing I'm learning to appreciate is how well the roads are usually marked back home in Michigan. There are states that just don't bother, and it can make for a true adventure as you try to guess if the turn you just took was the one you were supposed to take or not. Apparently they expect you to know it's Princess Anne Drive, not Route 165, like it's marked on the map.
Being here on the beach for a few days will be nice. I might ride into town (literally right around the corner) but don't envision spending too much time in the saddle between now and when I leave. The weary bones are looking forward to the break. :)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad