Log canoe weekends always start with a ride. Trapped in the gray cubicle in Washington, DC all week, I can’t escape my professional captivity without a little help from a friend. In most cases, the prospect of driving two hours each way and being detained for the entire weekend discourages even the strongest of friends from offering a ride. When the two hours end on the Eastern Shore, however, and particularly at Bachelor’s Hope Farm in Chestertown, the task of finding wheels becomes considerably easier. When the weekend-long detainment prominently figures log canoes, my grandparents’ pool, and American made Budweisers that flow like wine, a stranger could likely be convinced to lend me his front seat for the weekend.
This weekend, as has been the case several times in the past year, my friend from Georgetown Jon answered the call. His family has roots on the Shore, so he never needs convincing. At 3, I informed my boss that I’d be leaving at 3:30, and by 4 we were on our way out of the city.
Leaving town via some of the more charming parts of Northeast left little reason to complain, and Route 50 whisked us along to the Bay Bridge quickly enough, once again proving correct the inane signs on the Eastern Shore side of 50 that read, “Bay Bridge Bound? 50 is Swiftest!” (how else would one get to the Bay Bridge, I wonder). Two hours later we were rolling down the gravel road at Bachelor’s Hope Farm in Chestertown, home of my grandparents, the Hewes’, and home-base for Silver Heel for the Chester River regattas. The noticeably relaxed atmosphere of the Farm and the Shore in general let us know that another Log Canoe weekend was underway.
Tags: Chestertown, DC
