June 25 - Machodoc Creek, just off the Potomac

Leaving Glebe Harbor - 8:30 June 25th

Greetings, Gentle Reader,Dateline: 0720 hours, the McCarty Winter Residence on the Machodoc Creek, just off the Potomac.

Here’s the dilemma: Do I take a day off today, sitting as I am this morning on the McCarty deck, looking out on a placid creek which feeds into the Potomac? I could read a trashy novel, write a longer blog, give my hands and derriere a much-needed respite, take three showers, overfill my water glass with ice whenever I damn well felt like it, take a long afternoon nap, have access to a proper toilet, and – the best part of all- enjoy the pleasure of Peg’s company for the next 24 hours. (Yes, she drove down from Baltimore yesterday afternoon with a bucket of Bruce Lee Wings and a Big Hug. And yes, if you must know, I took the Big Hug before the first Wing.)

Or, Gentle Reader….do I get back in the boat by 9 and head up the river towards DC, about 90 miles away, with the ambition to finish this journey by Sunday night, dispensing with the pleasures and comforts listed above?

What to do, what to do….

Peg feels an admirable obligation to get back to Charm City to aid in the recovery of the real estate market…and I’m mindful that if she is going to collect me in DC at the end of this thing, Sunday would be the day to do it. So…I think it’s back in the boat in an hour or so…back at it.

I plan to recount my adventures in more detail at the end of this journey….for my own cathartic closure, if not to your amusement…but I will say this: the Chesapeake is enormous. Maybe the scale seems exaggerated to me because last summer’s journey took place on the Erie Canal; I was never more than 50 feet from shore, traversed through 34 or so locks, chatted it up with people at every turn, and felt very connected to my surroundings.

On the other hand, the Bay is immense…oceanic from the vantage point of six inches of freeboard…and other than Santiago-like conversations with the birds and the fish (and the rays….lots and lots of little rays…I’ve literally had to row my way (gently) through thick pods (schools) of them), this has been very much a “solo” trip. The scale is breathtaking…even a bit unnerving…and I can sometimes see navigational checkpoints five or more hours before I arrive at them. Over the last four days I’ve covered 136 miles (47, 37, 32, 20) in 34 hours of “seat time” (11,9,8,6)…and my hands and butt are feeling the lack of training. All other systems are checking in A-OK this morning, so I will head north.

Dahlgren Gunnery Range

So…I’ve got to collect my laundry from the dryer, pack the boat with stuff and tend to my paws, and push off. I hope to navigate through the Dahlgren gunnery range this afternoon; for any of you wanting to have fun interpreting “the rules” of the range, have some fun with the recording of their Schedule of Tests at 877 845 5656. I may have to count on a Range Boat for an escort!

Peg promises to get this on the blog sometime soon; thanks to those of you who are with me in spirit and, for some, in wallet. Remember…the proceeds go to the boys at Boys’ Latin. You aren’t reading for free, are you? :-)

Conk, thanks as always for the stellar sitework; I wish I could get on it…I wonder if anyone is reading, or even commenting? Maybe that PayPal option is scaring folks off…?

Hoping to arrive at Roosevelt Island sometime on Sunday….

Hugs,Mr. Frei