The past two weekends have been pretty heavy, (weight has nothing to do with it) and both Michelle and I were overdue for some rest and/or relaxation. Michelle’s dad has a place just outside of Rehobeth, Delaware, and it’s the perfect impromptu getaway. We bolted out of work Friday like it was the last day of school and floored it all the way to the exit of the parking lot. Traffic is pretty much guaranteed on any Friday in the warmer months, and with Nascar in Delaware for the weekend it wasn’t going to be any better. We made it though and only missed the first period of the Flyers game.

Before leaving work I strategically searched for places in Rehobeth that would be suitable to watch a game 7 playoff. I’m lucky one of my co-workers bar-tends down there as she quickly advised me that the first bar I called was strictly lesbian. We ended up finding a bar called Hammerheads and were relieved to find it not only open to boys and girls but also filled with Flyers fans.

Saturday morning came quickly and brought along plenty of sunshine. We quickly got dressed and headed over to the beach for some sand beneath the toes.

Michelle always says the sand here is better, but in my opinion there’s no replacing the soft white sand of Ocean City, NJ. That is of course if there’s any sand left in Ocean City.

We agreed ahead of time that the weekend would be completely up in the air with no plans or schedule. We were, however, sent to Delaware with one task.

Dogfish Head Brewery has grown tremendously over the past several years, and it also happens to be future brother-in-law Ryan’s favorite brewery. The mission, should you choose to accept it: Refill Ryan’s half-gallon growler with the finest ale in Delaware.

There are certainly enough beers to choose from, but with the limited release brews unavailable we chose my favorite, the 90 minute IPA.

Mission accomplished.

The beach area was also having a very large sidewalk sale where I snatched up this hat for summer. I’m not sure where the stupid grin came from though.

After lunch we headed back to the camper to get started on dinner. I had grand plans of smoking ribs for everyone, but we stayed at the beach too long and wouldn’t have enough time to barbecue ’em proper. Plan B was to be apple wood smoked chicken. With Steve’s (Michelle’s dad) help I got the grill set up and the chicken smoking. I wish I would have documented it though because a few hours later it would become my best smoke since picking up the art from Georgia Todd.

In the meantime though, what’s a weekend without some bicycling? Just make sure you kill all the spiders living in the bike before riding it.

After dinner Steve got the fire going, and it was time for some of nature’s television.

I’ll get this hoodie back some day. Maybe.

We’re going to use this picture when I run for congress.

…and hide this one.

She didn’t last long though as a day out in the sun always seems to drain you more than you would expect.

Steve and I enjoyed the fire for a bit longer, but by 10pm everyone was ready for bed.

Sunday morning was cooler and cloudier than expected. I didn’t mind though as this gave me a chance to dive into a book I’ve been wanting to read for months.

Shop Class as Soulcraft brings alive an experience that was once quite common, but now seems to be receding from society: making and fixing things. Those of us who sit in an office often feel a lack of connection to the material world and find it difficult to say exactly what we do all day. For anyone who felt hustled off to college, then to the cubicle, against their own inclinations and natural bents, Shop Class as Soulcraft seeks to restore the honor of the manual trades as a life worth choosing.”

We hung out for a little while longer but ultimately decided to head home in order to catch the Flyers’ opening game against Montreal. I took a bit of a gamble here as the Nascar race would be ending soon, and the thought of being stuck in that traffic circus was nightmarish. We made it past Dover Speedway just in time though as the grand stands were emptying and people were returning to their RVs. The sight of this crowd was pretty impressive to be honest. For over a mile approaching the racetrack there were endless fields of RVs camped for the weekend, each proudly displaying the flag of their racer. One of these days I’m going to drag Hocker out of his cave, put on my new cowboy hat, and experience a Nascar weekend up close and personal.

We made it home with the rest of the journey being fairly uneventful. With time to spare before the Flyers, Michelle suggested our favorite post-vacation restaurant. This may have been the most patriotic weekend I’ve ever had.