Unconnected Weekend

Almost three days without significant internet access. Let me tell you, it was tough. The condo that we were sharing with one of my sisters had no internet access. Can you believe that? It felt like 1995, except that I wasn't willing to actually break down and use dial-up. I mean, I have standards, you know. I searched the yellow pages in vain for someplace nearby that might have free internet access, but never came up with any good possibilities. Some time Sunday evening, having brought my laptop over to The Dad's place to show some photos from the 80th birthday bash, I discovered that if I put the computer on the dresser against the far north wall of the house I could pick up an unsecured wireless router from one of the neighbors. I hastily checked my email and was rewarded with the Federal Register Notice I'd been waiting for from the Department of Education. It was like finally getting a fix after three days of cold turkey.

So anyway, I spent the weekend with family over in Ft. Walton, managing only a single 45-mile ride early Sunday morning, but hey, you're only 80 once, right? After a nice Saturday evening party, which the older generation wrapped up around 9 pm, I got in a decent night's sleep and slipped out around 6 am for a little ride. It was surprisingly cool with a bit of a northwest breeze, and I had time for a bit more than two hours. From Fort Walton I headed east on Highway 98 toward Destin, cruising along the side shoulder with little traffic. I just had to stop on the Destin bridge over East Pass to take a photo and remember the many times I've crested that bridge over the years. It's always sad to see all of the high-rise condos crammed along the beach there, because in my memory there's still just the Silver Beach cottages, and the round Holiday Inn, and nothing but sand dunes to the east until Grayton Beach. Things have changed, and I rode through Destin and past the airport and the new city hall, paralleling the "new" highway 98 past rows and rows of cute little upscale strip malls and designer traffic circles until I finally headed north across the long mid-bay bridge. Almost my entire ride across the bay and through Niceville and Shalimar was on marked bike lanes or wide smooth shoulders. By the time I got back I was starting to feel normal again, but it didn't last long. We were scheduled for brunch at the little Ft. Walton Yacht Club, where I had a shockingly fantastic vegetable omelet.

Since the beach was littered with dead fish and sea snails this weekend, the girls decided a trip to the discount shopping mall was in order. Of course, I had to dig my heels in on that one, so I hung around the condo for a few hours eating junk and watching TV while they happily wandered around looking for stuff they wanted but didn't need. Such is life. The good news is that I got to see Sunday's stage of the Tour de France.

Today was the long drive back to New Orleans, the second half of which was through a steady rain that made for a somewhat difficult drive. The Daughter is en route back to Iowa City and I'm trying to get in a few more hours of down time before returning to work, and the bike, tomorrow. I hear that it rained buckets all day yesterday and that the Track races in Baton Rouge got washed out as well. Coming up this weekend is the Race to Recovery Criterium in City Park. I guess three days of eating, drinking, and sitting on couches probably wasn't the best training for that.....