S. declared it was time to take a beach vacation, and it most surely was, so on Saturday I loaded up my bag, stuck it on the front of the Brompton, and headed down the hill to meet her for a ride to the beaches of The First State, Delaware. That Saturday ride was just perfect–warm, sunny, empty streets, and I picked up enough speed to really feel like I was flying. I folded up the bike and tossed it in the car for a three hour tour all tangled up in part of Maryland’s beard. (No, seriously–look at this state. It’s just an old man’s scraggly pirate beard.) After a lovely afternoon being carried by the water and lazing about in the sun at one beach, we headed to her family’s house in that bustling hotspot, Frankford, Delaware. I woke up to hoo-birds and a rooster and all sorts of sounds, and after a lazy lounging it was time to check out the neighborhood. I pulled Brompty together, and off we went. This corn was right outside the driveway, and to the left was more corn, an empty field, a discarded mattress and box spring set, a sagging blue house, a guy practicing harness racing with one of the several horses on that corner, a whole bunch of chickens, and some sunflowers. To be honest, I haven’t ever thought much about Delaware, other than as the east coast’s bridge, but man, it is just plain beautiful, these parts, anyway. I could have ridden my bike on those flat, empty roads for days, especially with the region’s impressive bike lanes along the coastal highway, but it was time to head to another beach for another perfect afternoon. I folded up the Brompton, loaded it in the back of S.’s compact car, and we were off. I love the Brompton for making this quick morning ride so very easy, and S. for bringing me on such a lovely holiday. Here’s to many, many more.