With all the excitement and chaos of life lately, I was greatly anticipating a trip up to Door County this last weekend for the relaxing celebration of a friend’s graduation from law school and his recent engagement. His parents live on the Bay and the original plan was to kiteboard, relax, enjoy the beach, camp and spend time with friends. I was equally excited for the drive home as I’d have a solid 2 hours in the Audi all to myself with nothing to do but listen to music. While plenty of fun was had, the “relaxing” aspect, for the most part, was notably absent.
The weekend started off poorly… I woke up Friday with a bad sore throat and fever, stayed home from work and slept half of the day — and very little that night. Saturday morning I was awakened around 4 a.m. by the loudest birds ever who felt the need to chirp immediately outside my bedroom window. Schroeder and I got on the road around 10 and drove north, watching the skies get darker and darker. Within half an hour of our arrival, the first drop fell and a grey, on-and-off drizzle ensued for the next several hours — until it really started raining. Some complained of the sticky, humid weather, but fortunately the chills from my fever kept me quite cool. I should add that this party was a lobster boil. In the garage were 50 or 60 lobsters, alive and kicking, shipped directly from Maine.
I would like to like seafood. I know it is a good source of omega 3s and protein and that my health would benefit if I could add it to my diet. But I do not. Instead, ever since childhood, I have had a severe, innate horror of eating anything that lives in water, first discovered at Long John Silver while visiting Florida when I was 6. The mere smell alone induces nausea, a heart rate increase and sweating. With the rare childhood exception of one of my mom’s “tuna burgers” (mostly bun, loaded with cheese), I have never eaten anything from the sea… no fish, no crab and definitely no lobster. I can’t even eat seaweed.
So when dinner-time came around and I found myself shivering in the wind and drizzle, seated at a table next to matt’s ex-girlfriend, and surrounded by friends cracking shells and laughing as insides and eyeballs spattered in all directions, it first occurred to me I was very much not relaxed. I really didn’t want to appear ungrateful at what everyone agreed was really an amazing party, but a racing heart rate and gag reflexes aren’t easily reasoned with… my opting for a walk on the beach instead of dinner appeared to be in everyone’s best interest.
As the sun went down and the rain and party started in earnest, we moved into the garage, starting with a quality game of musical chairs — the 21 & over version. It was at about this point that I decided to drink diet coke, for the much-needed caffeine jolt after my early-bird (ha) wake-up call. I don’t normally drink cola, and this became super apparent when we finally all headed to our tents for bed several hours later. Soon everyone was snoring, most of all Schroeder, and I was left lying in the tent wide awake, in the rain — sober and highly focused on the numerous mosquitos buzzing around my head. Once again, not so relaxed.
As the storm, snoring and mosquitos grew louder, I decided a retreat to the Audi was in order. My hope for bug-free peace was finally realized and after reading a few chapters (“How to Finance Your Rental Business”) I apparently fell asleep, only to be awoken minutes (seconds?) later by a very loud car alarm. My car alarm, as it turned out. Being abruptly awoken by flashing lights and a horn going off every other second when you’re trapped in the dark in your own car, unable to find your glasses or keys, exhausted and hungry, and knowing you’re waking up everyone in the area, is really, really unpleasant. I eventually located the keys, killed the few mosquitos who figured out I had relocated, and drifted off again, assuming I had accidentally hit one of the door handles and the situation would not repeat itself. As it turns out though, some Audis have a theft deterrent / don’t-lock-your-dog-in-your-car-on-a-hot-day “feature”… ten minutes later I was again jolted awake by my own car alarm, which forced a hasty retreat from the Audi, lots of swearing, a very wet return to the tent and death threats to a still-snoring Schroeder who woke briefly, expressed sympathy, and then began snoring again, louder. I lay there, praying for the sound of the annoying birds which woke me up 24 hours ago, which would at least indicate dawn would be coming soon. Total sleep Saturday night: 45 minutes.
Sunday started out well enough, rain and lack of sleep aside. Bret’s dad made us all individual omelets to order in their beautiful, dry lake home and then we hung out for a bit and packed up the tent. The rain stopped just as we left (of course) and I rejoiced at the thought of a dry drive home. After a couple stops in Appleton to visit with Tom & Lona for a couple hours and then the Raddison Paper Valley Hotel (where I left Matt for a 3-day Fire Fighters’ Conference), I headed out on the open highway with much anticipation.
The rain started roughly 30 seconds after I departed: within 5 minutes the road was deluged. Sheets of water were hitting my car with an amazing amount of force, and it was literally “white-out” conditions — at times I couldn’t see more then 10 feet in front of me which is disconcerting when you’re going 50 mph. I gave up listening to my podcast almost immediately and eventually gave up on the radio due to the driving rain. Every time I went under an overpass though I was reminded the radio was still on — very, very loud — often broadcasting a storm warning. Thunder physically shook my car and at one point I narrowly missed a large bird that was having a hard time flying. I actually hydroplaned so many times that it stopped being scary. It wasn’t until about an hour later in Rosendale (where I didn’t have to worry about exceeding the speed limit for once) that the rain subsided to a mere torrential downpour. Fifteen minutes later it was back to white-out status though, which lasted for the rest of the trip.
I finally made it home 2.5 hours later, pried my cramped fingers from the steering wheel and immediately went to bed, happy to be alive and even happier to be dry and indoors unable to smell even a hint of lobster.
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There were a lot of fun moments and huge thanks go out to Bret, Joey and the Liebmanns and Tom & Lona for the hospitality. That said, the next time I’m looking to go on a “relaxing” adventure, I’m going to a spa.
