Chapter 3: Another way

I dreamed. I dreamed of the sound of waves on the beach. I dreamed about the sounds the fishing boats made that were tied up to the piers, creaking and squeaking with the waves. That was it. That was my solution! I'd travel the coast, but from the other side of the shoreline! I'd try the whole thing again with a small boat. Granted, I'd have to learn to sail, become licensed and find the money to buy a small boat, but those were achievable targets. I was fairly young, had a strong back and was good with hand tools.

Come the morning I wrote the guys at 'Outdoors' magazine about my discovery, disillusionment and decision. I asked them to come get the bike and trailer. Perhaps they could auction it off to the people that read my journal. With all the up-time, down-time and travel time it had only been a couple of months since I began this thing. What a shame. I'd had high hopes for this trip. My rose-colored granny glasses sort of took control and left me wide open for reality's right hook.

I bought a plane ticket for Newport, Rhode Island, figuring that if I couldn't find a place to teach me how to sail there, then the place didn't exist. Once in town I rented an efficiency apartment with good heat, had a phone and internet put in, then found a trade school to teach me. I wanted Captain's papers, from the very basics on up.

My grandpa knew me as a little kid and figured out that I was a knucklehead. He established a trust in my name that would pay for basic subsistence and tuition for anything that I wanted to learn until I was forty, at which time the balance would revert to me. The trust administrators okayed my expenses. I'd be busy for over a year getting my certifications.

I wrote a letter to the lady that made the honey cake I found so marvelous. It seemed that through my journal a hell of a lot of other people fell in love with her honey cake too. She'd bought two buildings and was shipping product out like there was no tomorrow. She shipped me twenty pounds of it for free. I sent her back fifty bucks with a note stating that no sane businesswoman should give away anything that they could charge good money for. It kept well in the freezer. I bought a small chest freezer just for her honey cake.

A couple of months later I got a nice check from the staff at 'Outdoors' magazine. I thought that it would just be payment for my journal. Nope! It was a healthy five-digit check from the auction of the bike and trailer as well. Now, who the hell? I'd never find out, so I stopped thinking about it, but someone bought into a heap-load of karma. All I knew was that if I ever saw that damned bike on the street I'd shake the hand of the guy (or gal) riding the thing.

They wanted me to keep them in mind if I ever pulled off the coastal cruise gig. I wrote them back, telling them what I was currently pursuing. The trip in question was definitely in my future.