I woke up at about 4 am to the rain. The cool, clear night that I fell asleep under had turned into my early alarm clock. The rain fly kept me nice and dry, but it’s like a tin roof when it gets going out there. If my down sleeping bag gets wet, it’s basically worthless, so it was super important to keep that thing under shelter.

I took a look at the radar, and it didn’t look good. It wasn’t going to let up at all as the day progressed, so I figured now that I was awake, I might as well get moving. It was still dark, and it was nice and chilly, but I was so close to my cousin’s place in Sullivan’s Island that I could almost taste it.

I could see my breath through the rain and my hands could only last so long out in the open before they wouldn’t work. So I had to break camp and set up my bike in two or three minute increments and warm my hands as best as I could in between.

I put on all my cold/wet riding gear and saddled up. I had broken camp with my headlamp on, and since it was still dark, I kept it shining for my ride. I forgot to eat something, so I didn’t have much fuel for the ride. I figured it was only 12 miles or so, so I’d be okay–it just meant an even slower ride through the cold and driving rain. Then it started to rain harder. The few cars that were on the backroads would try and get out of my way, but they’d end up splashing me instead.  Great little Sunday!

I finally crossed the bridge onto Sullivan’s Island, and I found my way to my family, the Daly’s, house. My Aunt Elli and my Uncle Michael are some of my only family that have moved outside of the DC area, so it’s always a treat when I get to see them. I hadn’t been to Charleston in a very long time, but as soon as I turned onto their street, I knew I had made it.

I couldn’t quite remember which one was their house, so I cruised down their whole road. I was able to pick it out early on, but I decided to keep going. Something hit me when I saw their house. I was going through another bout of déjà vu just 48 hours after my last one. Then I realized it: this road was the exact road where I learned how to ride a bike. It all made sense: I had visited the Daly’s back in the spring after I had turned 5. The road is super flat and it’s a dead end. I even sort of remember my dad chasing me down the street. Then, I would wipe out and cry. It was all coming together–and it was really wild to find myself, 19 years later, on the same road, on a mission, and on a bike. Hopefully I wouldn’t cry this time.

I didn’t want to wake them up, but by now it was around 8:30. I moved my bike and trailer under the garage and out of the rain. As soon as I was under the house, I could truly smell it. I had definitely been to this place before. Or maybe that was just their lemon trees.

But even with all of the self-imposed confidence in my guess, I still called my Aunt Elli instead of ringing the doorbell, just in case. She came running to the door and took me inside. By this point, I was completely and utterly soaked, and we both agreed I looked like a wet rat. She informed me that they basically had unlimited hot water, so I took one of the longest and best showers of my life.

She made me my first of a few wonderful breakfasts–I had forgotten that PB no J’s weren’t the only thing in the world to eat in the morning. We also enjoyed our first of many wonderful conversations. The view of the marsh from their back porch:

Being some of my only family not in DC, it’s tough for them to be around for every holiday: it had taken me like 20 days to get there, but even in a car it’s a long trip. So, they’ve created their own little family down in Charleston. Of course, they’re awesome, too.

We went out for a birthday brunch for Aunt El’s best friend, Susan. I had met her and her children about five years ago when they stayed in my grandma’s place in DC to visit the city. They were great then, and they’re even better now. Scott and Caroline are super nice and I met her oldest son, Raleigh, at breakfast, too. Caroline had brought along her boyfriend, David, and her best friend/roommate, Brielle. Scott sails tall ships and is currently living on and running a ship in New York City; Caroline and Brielle are in med school; David runs his own running shoe store; I’m a transient vagabond who showed up on the doorstep that morning. Needless to say, we were coming at the conversation from all sorts of angles. It was super fun and really interesting.

Susan’s parents are in the middle of moving out of a house they’ve lived in for 50 years. Much like my dad’s mother, who had lived in her home in Chevy Chase for about 800 years, there tends to be a lot of stuff in those places. After brunch, we went over to help move some of their stuff. I remembered how helpful an extra pair of hands could be in these situations, and after two full breakfasts, I had more than enough energy to help.