We
had just passed Oilsville and Goochland when I glanced down at my odometer,
2424 it read and as my gaze traveled back up to the road I saw my speedometer
was creeping past the 80 mark. I smiled under my Navy bandana that I had put on
not too many miles back to keep the bugs and road grit from sand-blasting my
face and beard. My daughter was riding behind me on my 1200 Custom and
occasionally I could feel her fingers trace the skull embroidered on the back
of my black hoodie I was wearing to help break the wind. But then, every now
and again, she would wrap her hands around my waist and rest her head against
my back and give me a big hug. I was tired but not enough to not enjoy the
bonding of the day.
I
suppose I should backtrack a bit…
Are
you ready for a shock? Ok, you’ve been warned, I actually took a vacation. Ten
full days off from my primary job, the reason for this break in work was
supposed to be for me to ride my motorcycle halfway across the country to Texas
to attend my U.S. Navy ships reunion. But, due to lack of interest, it was
canceled. I was a bit disappointed in the news of the demise of our reunion but
I figured that since I already had the time off, I would try and make the best
of it. So I planned a trip in an attempt to obliterate the growing disappointment
in not seeing friends of days past. Initially I planned to take my trip alone.
To go to the home of American Enlightenment and knowledge, but after careful
consideration and a long talk with my betrothed it was decided that I should
take this time to bond with my daughter.
Now,
to my daughters credit, she has always been very understanding of my work ethic
and my need for solitude after a long day of work. My solitude consists of me
sitting on my porch, smoking cigars and writing either short stories or blogs.
In some cases, both in the same night, also, I usually listen to a variety of
podcasts which consists of The Thomas Jefferson Hour and a lot of Kevin Smith
Podcasts. Yes, two totally different venues but both very vital to my sanity.
When
my daughter was informed of my plans she readily agreed and didn’t even blink an
eye when I told her the restrictions on the articles she was allowed to pack
for the trip. Because initially the trip was supposed to take us to Poplar
Forrest then on to Natural Bridge with an overnight stay in Staunton, Virginia.
The next day was to be spent traveling to Monticello and then head home. This
did not happen. Why didn’t it happen? Simple, the directions I printed out were
missing several steps. And, being the trained Naval Navigator that I am, I
decided to forgo the chance of getting lost and misplaced with valuable cargo
and just head for what I know, and what the primary destination was supposed to
be.
Upon
arrival we both lost ourselves in the history and ghosts of the “Little
Mountain”. Our tour guide was well versed in the Jeffersonian mythology and I
had a hard time keeping my mouth shut when she asked questions. I didn’t want
to be that kid from school we all hated. You know the one, he or she usually
sat in the front of class and always raised his or her hand or just blatantly shouted
out the answers to all the questions the teacher asked. Yeah, I didn’t want to
be that kid. I didn’t fully succeed and at the end of the house tour, when my
daughter and I were exploring the grounds by ourselves we bumped into the tour
guide and she commented to us that I knew more about Monticello and Jefferson
than she did and I should apply for a job. I took that as a compliment.
Although I don’t really want to give up my dream job of playing with trains and
building all manner of shit for the museums I work for now.
My
daughter… oh, my daughter, she has always been a morning star for me and today
she endeared herself even more to me. During the entire tour she was fascinated
and enthralled with every detail of the house, the grounds and the people who
built it and worked there. Her quest for information and knowledge of our third
president and his entire life on the mountain was endless. When some kids her
age, or younger and some older became bored and fussy, she found intriguing
things about the flower garden, the vegetable garden, the slave quarters and
even the vineyard. We walked and talked for what seemed like endless hours. She
described what sort of games she thought the children of Monticello played
during their young formative years on the grounds and even became a bit morose
when she found out most of Mr. Jefferson’s children died young.
By
the time we left, her thoughts had shifted to food and getting a hotel room so
she could go swimming. As we drove through the town of Charlottesville looking
for a place to stay my gas light came on we stopped for gas. I took in my
surroundings and realized we were less than an hour from Richmond so I sent a
text to my pal Jeff who is the Executive Chef at a great Italian restaurant and
told him we were in the neighborhood. He replied by saying “C’mon, the foods on
me.”
We
hit the road.
Which
is where this blog started.
Our
day started by us chasing the sun and ended by us racing east as the sun raced
west. The sun of course won the race, but we, my daughter and I… We won the
day.
Have
a great week.
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