With the economy sputtering near disaster and feeling the recession snapping at our heels, Chelsea and I returned home to Delray Beach in August of 2009 to close out our house and decide what to do with it.
We also decided to downsize our personal goods significantly. Little did we know back then that our twin projects would take two and half years and would become our own personal Hydras.
It didn’t take too long to figure out that we needed to do a short sale on the house, but actually accomplishing the short sale was a whole different animal. What an experience it was! Stories kept changing; bank procedures, staff, and policies kept changing; programs kept changing; paperwork ebbed and flowed with all the changes.
We couldn’t possibly predict when we’d be able to leave, but hanging over our heads was the possibility of being out in thirty days time from any point in time. It was nerve-wracking.
We couldn’t plan on where we’d go when we left, because our riding route depended on weather, and therefore the time of the year we closed on our house made a huge difference to us. We couldn’t make plans other than in a general way.
Meanwhile, as the closing kept getting pushed out, we kept increasing the scope of our downsizing.
Added to all that, we still needed time to get books written, get our website updated, finish gathering our gear and clothing, and get in shape for riding fifty miles a day, five days a week, carrying eighty pounds each.
It was a tall order by anyone’s measure.
Then in December last year we realized that closing would most likely be within the next thirty to sixty days. That gave us a time framework.
We’d accomplished miracles in our downsizing, and just getting to closing was a miracle. But since the projects had gotten so big, we were not ready with our book writing, our gear and equipment, nor our riding fitness, even though we’d made huge progress in each of those areas.
We needed a place to hunker down for a while, recover our breath from the closing and downsizing dramas, and get up to speed on the rest of our goals.
Given our wonderful experience in Gueydan, Louisiana, we opted to check out the possibilities of finding a place to stay there for a month or two. We put out feelers to both Max and Heuetta.
Before Christmas, when things were really heating up for us, Heuetta wrote and offered us the use of her small travel trailer. We could stay as long as we wanted, it would be moved to her back yard so we could share Internet and laundry facilities, and we’d only have to cover utilities.
We were very concerned about how small it would be, how the heating/cooling would be, and if we’d really be able to set up two office/work spaces, but the rest of it sure sounded good! Now we had a place, but we still needed a way to get there.
Given the time of year and our lack of readiness, riding the route wasn’t an option.
We finally decided on a Craigslist rideshare since we’d had so much luck with it in August of 2009. I started reading the ride lists almost daily, but I couldn’t make any plans until I had specific times to leave. You know by now what a moving target that was!
Fast forward to the Wednesday before closing. I’d been looking many times a day for many weeks in the Craigslist rideshares, trying to get to Gueydan, New Orleans, Tallahassee, Jacksonville, anywhere that would work. Nothing looked promising. I posted an ad that last week, when I knew our leaving date, but we had no responses.
We’d be out of our house in twenty-four hours, we were in a dramatic whirlwind of activity, we had no confirmed place to stay till we got a ride, nor did we have a ride. Things were looking grim.
Then, during Alex’s Improv night in Fort Lauderdale, I got an email from my ad on Craigslist, offering us a ride. I emailed back during the show and set up a time to talk the next morning. On closing day, only two hours before signing our papers, we worked out a deal for a ride to New Orleans. Talk about getting in under the wire!
Veronica, our Craigslist rideshare, was headed from Miami Beach to meet her boyfriend in New Orleans and join Mardi Gras celebrations. She didn’t mind waiting until Saturday to go, since we needed the extra day.
She had a Toyota Camry so we agreed that we would borrow a bike rack from our local bike shop, which she would return on her way back. Crossing our fingers a bit, we assured her our gear and equipment would fit in her car and agreed to pay half the gas.
Once we knew we had a ride to New Orleans, I texted Kenneth in Gueydan and asked how he felt about driving to New Orleans to pick us up. Much to our delight, he agreed. He now has a girlfriend who has a brother living in New Orleans, so they’d pick us up, go to the New Orleans Mardi Gras parades, and head back Sunday to Gueydan. We could even stay at Krisy’s brother’s house that night.
Things were definitely looking up.
Saturday
We’ll never, ever forget that Saturday morning. Running on ebbing adrenaline and virtually no sleep for days, we were up by five, expecting Veronica by six. While the household still slept, we treated ourselves to those heavenly hot showers and clean clothes, our first in three days.
We ever so quietly moved all our gear and boxes outside, even remembering all the items from the hot-pink-you-can’t-miss-me post-it note taped to the front door.
With nothing left to do, we sat huddled next to each other on a bench in the entry area in the cool morning chill, waiting quietly for our ride. What remained of our lives was piled around us.
Finding out that Veronica was an hour late, we slowly ferried our boxes and gear out to the driveway, ready for a quick getaway. Our pile of bikes, bags, boxes and yellow waterproof bags was impressive, bordering on overwhelming. We prayed that our Craigslist rideshare was an optimist and had a sense of humor.
Getting the bike rack on and the boxes and panniers packed in the car and trunk was hilarious. We got the assorted bags and boxes settled into the trunk and the back seat, but we had no idea of how to get the bike rack on.
Between Veronica reading the instructions and Chelsea maneuvering the bike rack, we got it done amazingly quickly. Perhaps the best part of getting the bike rack on was Veronica’s discovery that a bottle opener was built into the bike rack. That was good for a few minutes of jokes.
Meantime Carmen had awakened and insisted on making us coffee and a breakfast snack. What an angel! I gratefully accepted, and near tears, took a moment to tell her how much we appreciated her and her family and how much they had come to mean to us.
Finally we were ready to go, but we felt nervous about the bike rack. The straps didn’t seem tight enough. By that time Jose was awake and watching our progress with great interest. He stepped in and with a firm yank on the straps and a slight adjustment on the back rack, tightened everything down.
Little did we know how much that would mean in a few hours.
With heartfelt hugs we said our good-byes to Jose and Carmen. We left with big waves, headed off to our new lives.