R and J in the USA

Our journey in Rhode Island began at the Point Judith ferry dock. After an hour ferry ride we were plopped down into a world that we were beginning to learn was a rich and frequent part of life in coastal America – island life. We could feel it the second we stepped off the ferry and onto Block Island – island life is a different kind of life. And we were all for it.

We rode our bikes the handful of miles it took to cover a quarter of the circumference of the island, basking in the freedom that only a bike ride can provide. We laid on an island beach, walked the island roads, and ate at a little food shack that was cash only. Julie got a free sticker for answering a riddle at a coffee shop. (What do we sing for when it is alive and clap for when it dies?) The shop also delighted her with gluten free treats and provided Ryan with a morning writing spot. Ryan’s hankering for ice cream took us on a hunt, and before long he had the favored summer treat in his hands. We fell asleep with the windows open in an island hotel room barely bigger than the van. Julie pined for the van while Ryan fell asleep peacefully and with little sympathy for Julie’s pining as he basked in the comforts of sleeping in an actual building.

After a four mile morning run along the Block Island roads, Julie left the island on an earlier ferry than planned while Ryan stayed behind to soak in island life for a touch longer. Julie used the extra time in the van for some much needed cleaning. The van can go from spotless to pig sty in fifteen minutes, and there is nothing quite so rejuvenating as giving it a quick makeover. On Julie’s way back to the van, she stopped by a waterside seafood restaurant and was overjoyed to find that their fried seafood could be made gluten free. Minutes later, Julie was walking the half mile back to the van holding what seemed to be a couple pounds worth of delicious fried seafood. Where the fried seafood stopped and the french fried potatoes next to it started was anybody’s guess. Julie happy. When Julie eating chicken wings, ribs or fried seafood, Julie speak like Tarzan. Julie very very happy. 

Next stop, Lincoln Woods State Park, only fifteen minutes from where Julie spent four years going to college in nearby Providence. Before long the hammock was hung in the woods by the lake, the watered oasis was swum in, and a fresh mango on a stick was purchased from the most robust beachside snack shack either of us had ever seen. We rolled the five minutes down the road to the Bally’s Casino parking lot, where we had heard there was good overnight parking. We set ourselves up for the night, engaged all of our various safety protocols, and fell peacefully asleep. 

Next stop, Providence, a city in which Julie had lived for four years. Having both visited the Brown University campus more than a few times, we chose to fill our limited time with new locations. We made our way to the Rhode Island State Capitol. It did not at all match the size of its state, being one of the biggest and most impressive state capitols we had yet visited. We hopped on a tour and drank in nugget after nugget of Rhode Island history.

As the tour carried on, the ever so slight sore throat Julie had felt forming the night before started to make its presence known. By the time the tour was over, Julie was starting to feel like a bag of warmed over trash. Uh oh. A few covid tests later (yup, we packed ‘em – we like to be prepared) she proceeded in the day confident she was covid free. A stop at the RISD (Rhode Island School of Design) museum later, Julie became a fairly pathetic sack of human flesh. With Ryan showing tremendous patience listening to Julie’s crescendoing whining about a cold that seemed insistent on arriving in full force, we made our way to one of our most anticipated Rhode Island stops – the home on Beach Road in Bristol where Ryan’s sister Karyn and her wife Joyce were eagerly awaiting the travelers for a visit to Bristol’s pre-July 4th festivities. Just seeing Karyn and Joyce’s faces were enough to make Julie feel LOTS better, but not enough for her to join the crew for a night out of music at the Bristol waterfront. 

It had been planned for Julie to finally perform her musical the next morning for the crew in Bristol. They had invited two friends, who would be driving in from out of town just for the show. Despite feeling under the weather, Julie protested any suggestions of cancelling the performance. The show must go on! She was committed to getting a good night’s rest and making a miraculous recovery before the cold could even take hold. A text exchange with our friend from Connecticut revealed what germs Julie might have picked up, as Katy reported that she had come down with her boyfriend’s cold the day before. Alas, germs don’t always cooperate with itineraries. Ryan, Joyce, and Karyn went out for music, had a blast and returned home to find Julie fast asleep. Ryan took the opportunity to sleep in a house that, for us, had long felt like a home away from home, and he had no problems missing a night of sleep in the van.

Come morning, Julie was feeling a solid 80% better, and the show was on. And it was glorious! Julie’s musical takes place in World War II and is an homage to those whose efforts led to victory, whether on the home front or the war front. (If you want to learn more about Julie’s journey to write the musical, check out her blog at www.ontheroadwithjulie.wordpress.com) Joyce’s uncles had fought in the war. One of them had given his life and was buried in the American Cemetery in Normandy, where Julie had the privilege of visiting his grave and paying her respects in person. With this family history, Joyce was eager to see the musical, and was on the short list of people for whom Julie desperately wanted to perform the musical. Though Karyn and Joyce’s friends could only stay through Act I, the experience was a triumph, and Julie hardly remembered ever being sick at all. 

While our trip is tremendously fun and filled with good fortune and freedom, after almost a full month we were under no illusions that it was relaxing. It sure looks a lot like it is from the outside, with all the fun adventures and beach lazing. But with one month under our belts of quick paces, once or twice weekly 5K races, and all the realities of life on the road, the pace was catching up to us both. (We say this with no complaint and with full awareness of our good fortune in being able to take a trip such as this.) Our stop in Bristol gave us both the shot of rejuvenation we needed.

We left Karyn and Joyce’s having been able to unload a few unneeded items, reclaiming a few sacred inches in the van. We also left with a few extras that were just right, including some reusable Ziploc storage bags, a few new snacks, and a game changing piece of intel. Karyn heroically informed us that our YETI tumblers, which had been sitting unused in a van cupboard, would be just as good at keeping cold drinks cold as it is at keeping hot drinks hot. As obvious as this may be, we had only thought of the hot side of the equation. Cold drinks having long been the major limiting factor in our travels through an unusually hot summer, this knowledge, though obvious in retrospect, was a game changer. With this knowledge and restoration in hand, we were ready to travel onwards.

Having not photographed the Rhode Island sign on our way into the state, we kept an eye out for it as we left the state. Where we found it delighted us. We saw the Welcome to Massachusetts approaching, which meant there would also be a Welcome to Rhode Island sign opposite. The Massachusetts sign sat right in front of a house. We pulled our van over and asked the folks standing in the front yard if they minded us parking for a quick moment while we snapped a picture of the signs. Not only did they not mind, the homeowner said it happened all the time. It turns out this house is located half in Massachusetts and half in Rhode Island! (To learn more about our chat with her, check out our People Along the Way section) 

You may have noticed no mention of our stately 5K. Because we only spent 2.5 days in Rhode Island, and those days were during the week, we were unable to find a 5K during our time there. So, we arranged to “swing by” the northern part of Rhode Island in between New Hampshire and Maine for our Rhode Island 5K. This feat can be done only in New England, where states are small enough to traverse in a few hours drive. We left Rhode Island with the plan to return on July 7th for the Sour Apple 5K. (To read about the race check out our 5K section).

Knowing we’d be back in the neighborhood soon enough, we grabbed our picture of the Rhode Island sign and said goodbye for now to our nation’s smallest state with our oversized appreciation in tow.