The blog was silent for the past week because last Tuesday I took a much-needed beach vacation with JB. It was heavenly. I was going to mention it before we left. Then I thought maybe a psycho serial killer and his kleptomaniac convict sidekick could be blog-stalking me and would know I was gone and would find out where I live (it couldn't be that hard) and would come and break into our house and klepto would steal everything, including the cats, and psycho serial killer would conceal himself behind the shower curtain and lay in wait to kill us when we returned.
This is unlikely, I know. But well...the Internets are not trustworthy. It could happen.
We went to my very favorite beach on earth, Rosemary Beach and I enjoyed every minute of it. OK, maybe not every minute of it because, well...there was this bike ride.
First, the background: Rosemary is an adorable beach community in a string of adorable beach communities along Highway 30-A on the Florida Coast. Biking is the best way to get around, so JB and I brought our bikes with us. Which means I brought Lucille.
If you've been reading this blog for a few months, I probably don't have to tell you what happened. Or maybe I do, because how could anyone be dumb enough to repeat the same mistake twice?
Yes, friends. I am that dumb.
We thought it would be fun to ride from Rosemary Beach to Seaside (the beach town where The Truman Show was filmed) for lunch. I thought it was only about six miles, and that it would surely be mostly flat, and anyhow it wasn't that hot.
Except it was that hot, and 30-A is surprisingly hilly for a coastal road. And it was actually eight miles. One way.
Lucille's pedal fell off (the same one as last time) 3.5 miles into the eight-mile ride. Jeff "fixed" it last month, and she was riding fine the first few days of the trip when we were only biking around Rosemary. Plus, we'd even prepared for Lucille's crankiness by bringing a tool kit on the trip, but conveniently left it in the car back in Rosemary for the longest bike ride of the trip.
We weren't sure whether to head back the way we came or keep going. JB wanted to keep going so we started walking. It was hot and sticky.
When we passed the beach rental offices for WaterSound community, I insisted stopping to ask if maybe, just maybe, they had a crescent wrench. There was no way I was trudging all the way to Seaside and trudging all the way back. I'd already begun wondering if Florida taxis came with bike racks.
Lo and behold, the clouds opened and the very first person we saw was a man wearing a tool belt. We asked sheepishly if he had a crescent wrench and he said sure he did, in the back of his truck. He was a maintenance man. The Maintenance Man from Heaven.
Long story short, JB used the MMfH's crescent wrench to tighten that pedal within an inch of its life and we set off again for Seaside. First thing we did when we got there was head to Modica Market and buy a crescent wrench. Just in case Lucille got any ideas on the long trip back.
Now in the market for a cute yellow tool set to take up permanent residence in her front basket.