More snow, sleet and freezing rain today. A good day to sit by the fire and look at pictures of summer.
One of the trips that didn’t get posted was a quick one to the Chickahominy late in the season. Amanda called one evening as I was driving home from work, and said “Let’s go sailing this weekend.” Powerful arm-twisting words, those are.
Work and chores filled up the morning, and it was afternoon by the time I picked her up in Richmond. Parallel parking a boat trailer on narrow, busy city streets is not my forte, so we’ve developed a practical evacuation plan. I call from three blocks away. Then – timing is critical – ease to stop on the highway overpass in front of her building just as she’s coming out the door. She catches the light and dodges traffic, hops in, and we make a quick getaway. Eazy-peazy.
Within an hour we’re rigging up at the ramp, which is really nice for a place that seems so far away. Light but steady wind. A tops’l sort of day.
We stayed on the water as long as possible, loading up in the almost dark, a beautiful twilight settling in.
On the way home is a barbecue place called Pierce’s. I’ve been stopping there since college days, some 35 years ago. My buddy Scott and I used to ride out from town after classes on bikes; convenient, since is was mostly on the way home to the place we rented on the river.
Back then, “Pierce’s Pit Cooked Barbecue” consisted of a small cinderblock hut with a shed roof. The meat was smoked in an open pit in back under sheets of roofing tin. You ordered through the single small window in front, through which the food got passed back to you. Always with slaw, fries on the side. No place to sit. You stood around outside in the dusty yard, dripping sauce on your chin. Fantastic barbecue. Much has changed since then, but the food is still great.
At 10pm we were finally having dinner on a table under the trees, listening to trucks go by on the highway, and the katydids singing in the woods.