So, Sunday around 11AM me and Lauren headed down to Thompson Boat Center in Georgetown. I'd gone online the night before and seen the rates, and the options for time and distance.We found a great parking spot outside of News Cafe, where we'd had our 3rd date. After 3 tries at parallel parking on M, I finally got it right. I got Lauren's door and we headed out to the TBC.
Walking down M we took a right down Thomas Jefferson and walked under the Whitehurst Freeway, hand in hand. The sun was hitting the buildings in a beautiful morning-like way. It was one of those perfect DC days; blue sky, cloudless, a chill in the air but the warmth of the sun on our skin.
We walked by the fountain outside of Sequoia, took a left and before we knew it, we were at the Boat Center renting two bikes.
They were blue. Blue like 'Carolina' blue or 'Columbia' blue. Blue like my parents old VW bug from 1979. Blue like the sky. And they were called 'Cruisers'. With only foot breaks, a bell on one and handle bars with a black molded pleather seat that was set as low as it could go for each of us.
Lauren was so ready to ride, that she took off first. We did some circles in the lot near the boathouse and before you knew it, we were riding.
Stopping and starting was an issue at first, but before we knew it, we were out there, riding the Mount Vernon Trail, with the Potomac on the right and the Kennedy Center and The Watergate on the left.
The first hill was easy. A mild one at best, and it led to the (Theodore Roosevelt) Memorial Bridge, greeted by those larger than life golden sculptures that were a gift to the United States from Italy. Lauren was out in front, leading the us. She was amazing.
I could see the little bounces in the curly tendrils of her hair as we crossed the bridge. We turned up by Arlington National Cemetery and then crossed road after road until we finally got on the trail again.
Sure there were others out there, walking their bikes initially just like us. One woman even remarked, "Those were meant for riding!" 'Get the hell outta here!' I thought. We'd be riding soon enough.
There was the trail, pristine and curvy. We found it, and before you knew it, we were on it. The water was to the left, the trees were our canopy. And we were together; riding, breathing, moving, discovering.
"Let's go all the way to the airport!" Lauren said. So we did, and the Washington Monument and Jefferson were at our left in the Tidal Basin. We rode on, as the hills became more profound, and before I knew it, we were at Gravelly Point dodging speedsters and casual riders like us and noticing the rugby game to our right. The massive planes flying overhead didn't deter us as we kept riding.
I looked up and noticed that we were really at the airport. I mean, when she mentioned it ten minutes earlier, I thought, "sure Honey, we'll get there..." but we literally were there, and we kept moving, riding on.
We saw boat after boat, and people in kayaks and canoes. We went over cement paths, wooden paths and through swamp like areas. "Could we still be in Virginia?" I thought. It was so serene and beautiful.
"Let's go to Old Town, Joe. It's been so long since I've seen the water." "Okay Baby, let's do it." I said.
She charged ahead and found the right path, against the rocks and close to a mural that depicted the history of Virginia and the Potomac. I couldn't catch her, she was going so fast. I really couldn't. I mean, I thought I was really in shape, really conditioned with my time in the gym and on the elliptical machines, but no. She was the one who was conditioned, she was the one who had the stamina.
We rode and rode and she called out, "That's Potomac Yards Joe!" I couldn't believe it. We'd passed Crystal City and were really bearing down on Alexandria and Old Town. We kept riding until we were in a business park area and then a park near the water. I looked up, and the street sign said, "S. Union St." We'd made it to Old Town.
Now, when you're riding in D.C. you don't need a helmet, Virginia is different altogether. So, we started walking our bikes until we saw things we recognized like more cobblestones and the Torpedo Art building. We got to Union St. and King St. We were there. We'd made it! We'd made it just like she said we would. We'd made it...together.
We walked the bikes over to Starbucks and had some water and tea and some snacks. Lauren said a prayer, and then we started back out again. It took us about two hours to make it to Alexandria. We stretched, took swigs of water and pedaled and pedaled and pedaled. This time, our destination was Georgetown.
We rode and rode and the only obstacle that came up were the gnats. They were everywhere. Gnats, gnats, gnats. I pulled the legs up on my Princeton sweats, and pulled the sleeves up to my forearms and rode on. Sweating lightly from my forehead, I looked up and noticed she was so far ahead of me that I couldn't catch up. "Lauren!" I called out, and she slowed down for me. I caught her, and we were close from that point on.
The ride was like watching a movie. A movie about a couple in love, riding bikes, enjoying life without a care in the world but each other's happiness. And that's exactly how it felt.
The ride back was smooth and shorter. We saw a unicyclist. He was MOVING. We watched him so intently that we lost course at Memorial Bridge. We rode over the bridge together and by the massive steps behind the Lincoln Memorial, under bridges that 3 hours earlier we wouldn't have dared tried to ride, right there next to traffic.
When she directed us back up onto the path, we were right back at The Watergate and then the Kennedy Center and in the distance, floating towards us, the Boat Center. We rode on and smoothly came back to the front office.
I settled up with the front desk, got some cold water from the back and we walked triumphantly back through Georgetown, up Thomas Jefferson and near the canal. That canal that is so integral to what Georgetown is and for some people still stands for. The beautiful homes, sharing walls, with huddled people walking to and fro between the water and M Street and then later up M and towards the 'Exorcist' steps, ah Georgetown. In D.C., nothing seems as bright, or crisp or fun and the air is never so alive or sweet as it is in Georgetown.
So romantic, so real, so vibrant, so Sunday. So me and her.
Later we looked at it, and realized that we'd ridden seventeen miles on the open road from Georgetown's Thompson Boat Center to Old Town in Alexandria, VA. If we could do that on a whim, we can do anything.
17 Miles on the Open Road.
