One More Night

Soaking up the summer sun on the rocky shore

Spent the day riding again today, but decided to forego the trip to the brewery that turned into a big nap yesterday. Instead I decided to shower and head for Lake Superior.

It never disappoints! There's something about this rocky shoreline that is so grounding, and I could use a little of that right about now.

The beautiful view in the other direction

The weather has been extraordinarily beautiful, the riding fantastic, the sleep restorative, but there is no getting away from the fact that I'm alone up here.

Yesterday at my campsite, a man with young kids asked if I was solo and I said yes, to which he replied that his wife had been watching me and didn't think she'd ever do it by herself.

I felt like saying:

"Well dude, if you had asked me if I'd be here alone when my kids were that age, I would have told you that you were crazy, but here I am."

But I didn't, of course.

He said he thought I had it figured out -- both because he envied my alone time and of course men are much more comfortable than women with solo adventures. I get that.

He also said: "You could be doing this" pointing to his kids. I assured him that I have done that, and that my kids would have liked to have come (and I would have liked to have them), but they were older and had activities and school back at home.

There are some pretty great things about being solo -- lots of time to think -- getting to do what you want when you want -- but one of the things I've affirmed on this trip is that for me, I'd rather share this with someone. And since I'm no longer able to share it with the person I used to share it with, I resolved to make more of an effort to meet people for whom this weekend is their idea of a good time. They exist, I know they do, I just don't really know them (with one exception, and she was unable to join me).

Turns out this is the very last night that the East Campground at Fort Wilkins State Park is open, making this rather insipid Maroon 5 tune, which came to me as my neighbors on the campground were discussing having to pack up and leave in the morning:

You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war.
You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door.
You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we stopped keeping score.
You and I get sick, yeah, I know that we can't do this no more.

Yeah, but baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you.
Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go.
Got you stuck on my body, on my body, like a tattoo.
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid, crawling back to you.

So I cross my heart and I hope to die
That I'll only stay with you one more night
And I know I said it a million times
But I'll only stay with you one more night

And the song, when it came, reminded me as a number of things have on this trip, that all was not sunshine and daisies when I was with the New Englander, even in beautiful places like this.

There was always a part of me that wished he'd share more of himself with me, or think about us as a unit, but he truly functioned like a solo entity that sometimes had an add-on (or three). This was driven home to me in a comment he made on the way home from here the very last time we were up here together.

He was leaving soon (for New England), and we were talking about the fact that we hadn't been to Marquette yet (another town in the U.P. with great mountain biking), and I mentioned a weekend that I could go. I will never forget what he said in response: "Oh no, I wouldn't be going for comfort."

Meaning that he hadn't been thinking I'd be with him at all, if he did go, and that I didn't really enter the picture for him when he thought about going. My heart sank. That was such a pivotal moment for me. It really made me realize he didn't want to share his life with me, or maybe with anyone, I don't know.

But it's good for me to remember that, because I am also remembering so many delicious things about our relationship while I'm up here:

Try to tell you "no" but my body keeps on telling you "yes".
Try to tell you "stop", but your lipstick got me so out of breath.
I'll be waking up in the morning, probably hating myself.
And I'll be waking up, feeling satisfied but guilty as hell.

Yeah, but baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you.
(Making me love you)
Yeah, I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go.
(I let it all go)
Got you stuck on my body, on my body, like a tattoo.
(Like a tattoo, yeah)
And now I'm feeling stupid, feeling stupid, crawling back to you.

And I also feel grateful, that since he really had no intention of truly partnering with me, that he did leave. Because god knows it was nearly impossible for me to stay away from him when he was nearby -- my physical body just wouldn't have it:

So I cross my heart and I hope to die
(Yeah)
That I'll only stay with you one more night
(Oh)
And I know I said it a million times
(Yeah)
But I'll only stay with you one more night
(Yeah)

Yeah, baby, give me one more night
Yeah, baby, give me one more night (whoa, yeah)
Yeah, baby, give me one more night (oh, yeah, yeah)