Sometimes You Just Have a Rough Day

Sometimes you just have a rough day.  We covered good distance at almost nineteen miles, but we had a twenty mile per hour wind in our face the whole time.  The temps weren’t cold, thank goodness, but the chilly wind just sapped the energy and kept you from ever being truly warm or comfortable all day long.

The scenery wasn’t bad, but there were quite a few houses and power lines in the mix.  In fact when we walked through Nassau (not the Bahamas), New York, we came across this creepy little gem.

The perfect haunted house.  Nassau, New York.

Yes, those are skeletons on the middle balcony.  Yes, the stair railings have skulls affixed at the top and bottom.  At least there are American flags flying on the porch. There are also “No Trespassing” signs prominently displayed.  No kidding. I’m not going to test their resolve on that statement.

Though it was a tough day, there are signs of changes for the better just around the corner.  As I sit in one of the shadiest motel rooms I’ve ever stayed in, the frog in the creek behind the property are cheeping up a storm.  As Dad likes to point out, the hills are getting softer. There are hues of greens and reds and whites as the trees start the process of budding out into the sun after a long cold winter.

We’re still meeting interesting people like the post mistress of Brainard, NY and Fred, the paving contractor who is also a New York state licensed wilderness guide.  We walked past the Lebanon Valley Speedway and learned that Tony Stewart is going to be back on the 14th of July to participate in sprint car racing. I also saw some ducks on a creek that I couldn’t recognize, and I was too slow to snap a picture.

Most of all, we’re back on the road and making good progress.  We’re trying to make a run for Syracuse to participate in a family event, so wish us luck, dry weather, and a little less wind would be a big plus as well.

Whirlwind to Gentle Breeze

Today ended up being one of the more productive days that I've had since recovering from my foot injury.  Things started off well with a sunrise walk of just a little over four miles this morning.  The first meeting of the day wasn't until 0900 so I took advantage of the opportunity to usher in the day with the sun peaking up over the horizon.

Sunrise over the Salt Marsh - Little Creek, VA

I intended to head down to the beach to catch the sun peaking up over the horizon of the Chesapeake Bay, but when I stumbled across this pond in the salt marsh area short of the beach I stayed put to take advantage of the calm water. I admit, that the final result supported that decision.

Ducks headed into the Sunrise - Little Creek, VA

When I walked up on the pond, I flushed a blue heron and was not quick enough to catch the graceful glide out across the water. I did get to share the event with a pair of mallards and a fisherman (not pictured). The air had just a hint of chill that will soon be a fond memory as the late spring and summer unfold and the heat and humidity sit on the earth like a foggy elephant. For today, calm winds and cool temperatures collaborated to make this a perfect start to the morning.

Not to be outdone by nature's art, some enterprising soul decorated the fence at the swimming pool and waterpark in the area.

Chainlink Zoology - Little Creek, VA

These murals are exceptionally well done, and the very concept of different colored squares to be added to a chain link fence raise some interesting possibilities in my mind. This is the first time I've ever seen anything quite like this, and it's probably because I'm sheltered. After a little searching with Google, I concluded that these designs are a derivative of Put-In-Cups or something very much like them.  This is the only product of this kind that I found in the first couple of pages of search results, and one of the alligators on the site bears a striking resemblance to the one in the collage above.

Putting southern Virginia in my rearview mirror, I motored on back up to Washington, DC.  Another quick pedestrian jaunt found me eleven books lighter after dropping off my Christopher Moore collection (plus two additional books) at Riverby Books. I am growing increasingly comfortable with leaving behind monuments to the past and lightening my material burden going forward. I've also noticed that the practice has changed my reading habits (to a small degree), and I consider purchases more carefully than I have in the past. I believe that I've gone a week without purchasing anything but consumable items, and I even buy consumables with a much more deliberate approach.  It's still early in the experiment, but I value how my thought processes seem to have changed in a relatively short time. These guys hinted at how the simple act of shrinking my overabundant inventory of material possessions would change the way I experienced the world, but I never would have guessed that the impacts would start manifesting themselves so quickly. The journey feels good so far, and I'm looking forward to experience continuing change.

USS Barry - Towing Bridle (the chain on the starboard side of the ship) is now Rigged

Finally, I ambled past my old friend the USS Barry, and got a chance to speak to the supervisor in charge of preparing her departure in her final days at the Washington Navy Yard. The towing bridle was rigged today, and he told me that the masts were going to be removed to allow her to pass underneath the Woodrow Wilson Bridge over the Potomac. There are a number of elements to the story he told that may be of interest in a future post. Apparently, the departure of the ship is raising a great deal of interest involving a number of admirals, local authorities, a series of "interesting" planning assumptions, support vessel trades and changes, money, good deals, chains, tugs, sediment, and henchmen. I'm going to keep all that to myself for now and see how things shake out. Like all towing and salvage stories, there's always something more than meets they eye.

After over seven miles of walking, two hundred miles of driving, a briefing and included forty people, offloading eleven books, and talking about towing one, sixty four year old ship, I've probably droned on enough for today. As the day wraps up, I'm forced to consider the possibility of new adventures and how they might spring from the shadows of the waxing darkness tomorrow morning.  Until they do.,,

Gray Day and a Subdued Mood

James Altucher has become a virtual mentor for me. Today, the sky was cloudy, there was rain in the air, I was in a bit of melancholy mood, but thanks to the example that James has set, I kept my daily practice going and I enjoyed the way things turned out.

I hit another two-a-day walking practice again today, but the distances are still shorter than what had become my routine routes in the past.  This has turned out to be a blessing in disguise since it has given me the opportunity to experiment and visit some places that I haven't visited during that time of routine. Today, I rambled around Naval Support Activity (NSA), Annapolis.  I've been there before, but I boldly walked some areas that I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to go.  The view was fantastic.

USNA YP Squadron and a Liberty Boat at their Moorings on the Severn River

I walked this location before, but in the past I was always a little wary that someone might ask me what I was doing there and why I was trespassing.  There are no signs or fences indicating this isn't allowed, but I've always dreaded that confrontation in the past.  I didn't have that same fear today, and I was able to take in the Yard Patrol (YP) craft as well as the skyscape reflections with a sense of awe that had, in the past, been muted by fear.  I don't know what's changed, but something has definitely shifted for me mentally.

Yard Patrol Craft at their Moorings with Naval Surface Warfare Center Caderock, David Taylor Research
Station in the Background

I made my way down past the marine travel lift and in front of the maintenance hanger for the Naval Academy small craft.  I've never been down this route till today because it is definitely an area that has the feel of being off limits.  Again, that sense of trespass didn't cross my thoughts.

The Yard Patrol Craft Pier

Walking down past the CCTV cameras that lined the mooring pier for the YPs I began to get a little itch of anxiety, but I was here and the view was too good to pass up. I walked down the pier and was treated to a view of the Naval Academy and Annapolis Harbor that I didn't even know existed in an accessible fashion until this morning. I lingered at the end of the pier and took it all in for several minutes.  When I turned to beat a retreat, I crossed the half mile point at a 31 minute per mile pace. I'd taken my time and experimented with pushing my own limits of comfort by going into an area I've actively avoided in the past.

Severn River with Ducks in Flight

Walking my way back up the pier, I noticed that the ducks were particularly noisy and active. They honked in a seemingly endless cacophony and seemed to fly off with a degree of disgust as I rousted them from the morning perches. I suspect that ducks are not subject to the vagaries of daylight savings time, but if they lost an hour of sleep last night like the rest of us did, it might explain their relatively assertive declaration of their rights. 

Greenbury Point Extra Low Frequency Transmission Towers on the Severn River

I finally got back to one of the views on one of my old standby routes. The decommissioned ELF Towers on Greenbury Point stood as silent sentinels looking over the calm waters of the Severn River. The sky stood forth both above and below.

I didn't really get completely away from my melancholy mood today. I'm struggling with a decision that feels like it has some major consequences. To act or not to acti is the question that's running through my mind. If I act, or do not act, what is my motivation. Hard decisions don't really come down to choosing between right and wrong. The hard decisions are the ones when you pick between the better of two goods or the lesser of two evils. Those gray decisions are the ones I struggle with most often. It feels like that's what I'm facing right now. I'm probably wrong about that assessment, but it doesn't make the struggle any less real.

One thing that the walk this morning let me see is that there is quite a bit of beauty and diversity on even the grayest of days. It doesn't necessarily pop like the colorful rising or setting of the sun. It's a serenity and beauty that's a little more subtle. I have to pay attention just a little bit more to be able to see it, but it's there and it's real.

As is my practice, I'll continue to experiment and let the answers unfold over the course of tomorrow.