One off my Bucket List

I have always wanted to walk to the lighthouse at the end of Dungeness spit, or hook, whichever you prefer to call it.  We have lived here almost 17 years and I have gone by boat “past” the lighthouse, but never hiked the beach.  For Mother’s Day, Mike suggested to go…hike to the Lighthouse!  I was so exited.  It was my personal Boston Marathon. 

I can walk 3 miles out to Ediz hook and back and never crack a sweat, but this is 11 miles and on the beach.  The tide was out, so that was a plus.  We could use the harder packed sand for better footing, but it was still difficult to complete my goal. 

I packed OJ, muffins, good camera and extra lens and binoculars.  I had my camera backpack, everything having a good place for storage.  I used my hiking boots.  They were well worn and surely, no blisters to think about.   I seem to always gets blisters, whether it be my hands in gardening or feet for walking…take your pick. 

The sand was easiest to walk on, but there is a slant to the beach.  You are constantly leaning to keep from falling over.  By the time we passed the three mile marker, I had blisters on one foot…the entire heel and my big toe.  Hm.  This wasn’t looking good.  I figured on the way back, I would be leaning the other direction and the other foot was be blistered, too.  (note…I was right)

Literally, I limped to the base of the light house and kissed the park bench hello, like and old friend.  I dug out the OJ and the muffin and thought, why didn’t I pack a turkey sandwich…sure the Mayonaise might have gone a bit punky, but I was willing to chance it.  I wanted more…more time to rest, more OJ, more food…and anything to take me off this lousy beach and get me home.  But, it was time to leave.

I snapped pictures and pulled on my socks.  I was barefooted in the cool, damp grass of the lighthouse trying to will my feet to heel.  I gathered up my wits (took longer than I cared to admit) and prayed for a miracle.

We began walking back.  I made the first 5.5 miles without resting, but on the way back, the blisters were on the other foot and I had to stop several times and sit.  The last half mile was of beach was totally miserable.  I was almost stumbling.  Then I remembered…hey, I went down a steep path TO the beach.  Will I have to walk UP and steep path..of course.  What an idiot…I could feel my mind racing.    Flashes of excuses were running through my head…chest pains…yeah, that might get someone’s attention.  I mean, the path was big enough for a small car…then I snapped back to reality.  It was my “white whale”…I was going to conquer it, if I had to crawl on my belly and at several times, I thought I might do that very thing.

We got to the path and I almost teared up.  I swear, it was a 45 degree slope.  Mike kept telling me it was hard packed dirt and would be easier…a piece of cake.  Cake…I like cake. 

I whined and whined all the way up the hill.  I finally saw some rangers and thought…valet.  These guys were here to get my car and meet me, so I didn’t have to walk the final 50 yards.  I smiled and said…”Valet?  I got $2 for the guy you can run and get my car for me!” 

Well, we got in the car.  I kissed the heated seats in the car and whimpered.

I got home and I couldn’t get my legs out of the car.  I tried.  They were all stiff and ached like nothing I have ever experienced.  I hobbled down the stairs and landed on the sofa.  Then the cramps came…I had thigh cramps…it was amazing.  Didn’t know you could get spasms that high up. 

I finally put myself to bed by 9pm, with two tylenol and the electric blanket it on.

Did I have a good time?  The best!  I loved my day.  I accomplished something I have always wanted to do.  Will I do it again…no.  I will boat by…I may even leap overboard and swim to the lighthouse, I will drive it, I will skydive to the lighthouse, but I won’t walk it again.  I might rethink it IF I have that turkey sandwich in my backpack, better shoes, extra pair of socks…screw the camera, I can buy a postcard and nice bottle of wine to celebrate another journey.