Monday, June 3, 2013

Day 36--Carlisle, PA

Day 36--Saturday July 17,
Jericho, VT to Carlisle, PA (Motel 6 )
488 mi


I was up before six the next morning. Peter was already up and at the computer. After his bypass surgery, he, poor guy, has trouble sleeping through the night and is often awake from 3 or 4 on. I feel for him—particularly after last night’s insomnia.

It was a VERY long day in the car. We left P & S’s at 7:15am and did not get to the motel until 5:30 pm. We faced a long looping detour and stalled traffic on 149 out of VT and then numbing interstate driving to Newburg down near NYC, where we picked up 84 around Scranton and eventually 81 south to J&P’s.

I drove until 2:30 and then asked Suz to take over because my feet and lower legs were numb and fiery. We discussed where to stop for the night, and I said that we should either stop before or after Harrisburg as the motel rates in H’burg might be high. Suz’s elbows were bothering her, so she suddenly announced that she wanted to quit “right now!” We were in Harrisburg. 

I reminded her that we had talked about not stopping in the city. When we were past the city, she saw an exit with a Motel 6—a motel she told me she stays at when on the road—so exited, and then asked me which motel I wanted to stay at . . . this just after her Motel 6 declaration. I told her it didn’t matter to me. She asked me which way to turn. I told her the motel signs pointed left. She pulled into the Motel 6 entrance, stopped, and asked me which way. I told her straight ahead. She was tired, so suddenly threw a hissy fit, gunning the car up under the office overhang, jerking to an abrupt stop, flinging herself out of the car, and slamming the door. When I got my sandals on and got to the front office, she had already dealt with the front desk. The East Indian behind the desk quoted a $55 room charge and Suz said that was all right if “she” (me) thought so. It’s a moldy oldy with greasy smelly “hold your breath” hall carpets, but what’s a person to do? I paid for the room and got the room keys. 

When I got to the room, I immediately took a shower and washed my hair. In the car, we had discussed my doing this as soon as I hit the room because I generally took the second shower. Also, in the car we had discussed food and had decided on a pizza delivered to the room. Suz ordered the pizza for both of us, first knocking on the bathroom door to ask me where we were. I told her I didn’t know and to call the front desk or find some hotel literature with the address on it and then call the pizza place back.

When I got out of the shower I set up my computer (first having to run out to the car for the stuff that needed to go into the refrig and then running out again for my glasses). When I got back the second time, the pizza had arrived. Dreadful mushy, thick-crust stuff. I couldn’t eat a single slice.

Suz said she’d paid for the pizza. Since the $10 bill I’d laid on her bed was gone, I thought she had used it to pay my half of the $20 tab, but she came over, pulled my pen out of my journal’s spiral and wrote down $20 for the pizza on her side of our tote sheet. When I icily asked for my pen back and asked her why she was in such a bitchy mood, she was suddenly in my face calling me a bitch and pointing her finger . . . a reflection of an earlier fight when I’d shook my finger at her. Then we both let it all hang out, she accusing me of not “mentoring” her on the ride and of interrupting her and pointing out “barns” and things when she was talking. I’ll admit to the latter, I do have an annoying tendency to interrupt, but I also sometimes used this technique to distract Suz from telling the same story over again. 

This argument was our biggest . . . and last. I cannot wait until we are again independent individuals. Day in and day out, hours on end 12 inches apart, is not good for any relationship. I have loaned Suz a lot of her clothes and equipment, helped her train on the road before we left, and have given her as much encouragement and advice as I possibly could without riding the bike for her. I have tried to make her think of her own safety rather than putting that burden on me. I have tried to get her to think about what she needs to wear before the day’s ride rather than asking me. I have tried to get her to call the shots when she is hungry or thirsty, rather than saying "whatever you want." I am proud that she completed a tour in terrain and weather that would have tested the mettle of a far more experienced rider, and I was generally glad for her company and conversation, but we need separation! 

[No pix this day]

No comments:

Post a Comment