The Visit to the Eastern Shore
This morning the winds from a northern storm have finally brought the temperatures under 105 degrees. A cool breeze rolls off the Bay and the gray skies are a welcome sight after a week of infernal hell. My folks were in town this week, the most brutal week of all the summers I've been here. To the north, across the bay, is the Eastern Shore of Virginia, a peninsula separating the Chesapeake Bay from the Atlantic Ocean, that drops down from Maryland like a finger pointing to where I live. On this first day of their vacation, in the begginings of the heat wave, we ventured north to Exmore, where my Uncle Roy and Aunt Marlese live.
(The family on the first island of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel.)
The only way to the Eastern Shore is the bay bridge tunnel. Now, it's important to bring up the history of my family and the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel.
When I was around nine years old, my family came to Virginia on a vacation from New Jersey. As we approached the bridge tunnel, my Dad felt it would be funny to scare the hell out of his young, easily-fooled son.
"We have got to get a lot of speed," he started.
"Why Daddy?"
"Well you see how the bridge ends and has a ramp and then there is an island about a mile away?"
I looked as the bridge ended in the sea and saw an island far, far in the distance. "Yes..."
"We have to get a lot of speed so we can jump the ramp and make it to the island."
My face dropped and my heart doubled speed. "Whaaaa???"
As we got closer, my dad screamed, "get ready...hold on...here we go," and I started panicking and freaking, staring at the gap, off the side of the bridge where the sea lie far below, gripping the dashboard with little white knuckles. I was terrified. He screamed more and sped up and I'm pretty sure my little bitty undies were soaked as the tunnel entrance showed itself and my father howled his laughter all the way through the first tube.
The first time I rode across the bridge tunnel some twenty-something years later, in a live-truck, I told the story to my reporter, who laughed hysterically as well.
Yeah...haha...very funny, so when I returned the trip for my Dad and Mom, I attempted the same freak-out on my kids. Wise beyond their years, the best I got was "yeah, dad, whatever, I'm hungry."
I told my Dad I was going to leave him on the First Island. He laughed, but looked distantly concerened. I didn't, so we continued north to Exmore.
On arrival, the heat persuaded us to hit my Aunt and Uncle's neighbors' pool to cool off. Not a bad way to start off the visit.
enjoying the neighbors' pool
flipping Christian
Uncle Roy with the amazing view.
Grandma Daisy
Getting ready to take some action pics.
Yeah...that looks like it's going to be painful.
Katryn gets ready to jump.
The little mermaid.
Christian gets flipped.
and splash...by whom?
Uncle Roy and Aunt Marlese then offered the idea of taking out their kayaks on the inlet in their backyard. It was a hot day, but the idea sounded great to the kids...all three of them...so we pulled out the boats and made our way into the water.
Katryn's head barely poking out of the lifejacket.
Christian cuts through the water in the big boat.
Daddy and Uncle Roy putting the crafts in.
Heading to sea.
Katryn was a very proficient boater on her maiden voyage.
Exhiliration.
Christian cruising.
Christian and I took the boats across the inlet to a little beach on the other side. Grandpa took out Katryn's boat when she was done and the three of us explored a channel around the corner from the house. It was a fun, new experience for all of us. Unfortunately, I didn't put on sunscreen nor wear a hat, so I paid for my ignorance over the next few days. You'd think as a beach bum for some four years now, I would have known better, but no, lobsterized into the oppressive heat of the week to follow.
After boating, we showered, Uncle Roy bbq'd and Aunt Marlese baked a wonderful dinner of burgers, brats, baked macaroni, veggies, blueberry pie, and ice cream. Wow...we gorged but had built quite an appetite in our endeavors throughout the afternoon.
Story time and crazy dress up for the kids would follow.
Christian sporting the cowboy mullet look.
Uncle Roy
Grandma Daisy
Aunt Marlese and Queen Katryn get ready for storytime.
Awwwwww.......
Thank you very much...mullet man from north cackalacky...
My best Vince Neil impression...
Katryn reads in the sunroom.
Storytime begins...
Sleeping Beauty...
Cinderella...a captivated audience.
Out in the garden, Katryn spots a bunny.
As close as it would let me get.
A gaggle of geese in the garden.
Back at the Sheraton in Norfolk, father and daughter take a dip.
awww......
father and son right before the flip...
drying off...
uh-duh
This was the beginning of the parent's visit, and as I have stated a million times, it was hot. Hotter than I can remember. My poor folks just wanted to chill on the beach, but we had to find alternate means of entertainment, mostly involving air-conditioning. We went to Busch Gardens, the Air & Space Center in Hampton, spent a day on the Bay, a tour of downtown Norfolk, and finally a much needed trip to the beach in Sandbridge on our last day. All in all, it was a great visit, and we had a blast, despite the heat, and the grandparents got to spend a lot of time with their grandchildren. Much needed and overdue.
The grandparents took a ton of pictures and I'll post more once they send them. Until then, I'll be kicking back enjoying the storms that have dropped the temps some 15-20 degrees, with a welcome breeze pushing cooly through the cabana.
mahalo...
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