As I walked my bike up our driveway at 5:30am, I couldn’t see a damn thing. My headlamp highlighted a sphere of nothingness in front of me. I had to rely on my memory of the quarter-mile gravel road that led to the pavement, where I could start making out shadows of trees and the approximate border of the road that would take me 13 miles to the ferry landing. As I rode, the woman’s voice from my RunKeeper app would update me every five minutes on my progress – telling me my average time per mile. So every five minutes I’d calculate in my head whether I was traveling at a pace to make the ferry (“5 minutes per mile?! You’ll never make it!”) I did, in fact, make the ferry – with about 4 minutes to spare.
I had to travel to San Juan Island to do some grown up banking. That meant an hour on the bike, followed by an hour and a half on the ferry, which weaved its way through our little archipelago, stopping at all the other major islands before arriving at my destination, Friday Harbor.
While there, it took me several hours to complete my mission: open a local bank account, wire money, get a cashier’s check. I got what I needed from the bank 3 minutes before the last ferry of the afternoon left for Lopez. Thankfully it was only a 2-minute ride to the ferry dock. That’s life on the islands.