When you're a Jersey girl, it is part of your DNA that demands you spend a certain amount of time each year at the Jersey shore. No if, ands, or buts. The sandy beach call you to its shores. You long to see the seagulls, even if they will swoop down and try to steal your lunch. There is nothing more refreshing than the sea breeze blowing through your soul.
We are all romantics in our own way.
I have to admit it was my idea that Saturday to take the almost two hour ride to Island Beach State Park. Although not as popular as Seaside Heights with its boardwalk and social scene, IBSP boasts ten miles of sandy beach, rolling sand dunes and tidal marshes near Barnegat Bay. It was October and cloudy.
But I believe in magic--that once we arrived, the sun would come out. It would be warmer, and despite dire predictions of icky weather, we would have a lovely day.
Chuck, the rascal cat, of course, agreed. He is always up for an adventure. And if food is involved--he heard us talking about lunch and watched as we packed our turkey sandwiches (he loves turkey)--he can't resist coming along for the ride.
As always, I extracted a promise. "You will be good, right?"
"Mom, of course. What mischief can I possibly get up to at the beach?" (I don't have enough fingers to count the ways.)
Nevertheless, we packed and were ready to go in no time: cut offs, jackets, sneakers, blankets, food and Sirius XM radio to keep us entertained as we drove to the Jersey shore.
Full disclosure. There were things we did not anticipate:
The weather did not improve. It was windy. Very windy. Cold. But that did not deter us. We arrived at Island Beach State Park--no one else was in sight. We drove in and kept on going down the long, straight road that leads to the ocean. Parked the car. Got our gear. Maneuvered Chuck into a backpack so we could move more quickly toward the beach. (At least it wasn't raining.)
The sandy path to the beach was very long. We were carrying a lot of gear. A lot of food. And blankets. And Chuck. About half way there we almost gave up. Where is the beach?? The water? It's hard to walk in the sand, carrying things, in sneakers.
The day was very windy. Imagine the kind of scene you see on TV when you're watching a hurricane make landfall. Through teary eyes--windy--we put our bright red blanket down, and it blew away. Everything we put down blew away. Chuck almost blew away. He started complaining. Meowing.
"He's just hungry." I put some food down, but you guessed it, it blew away. It took us awhile to get settled. To anchor the blanket with our bags and sit down. Geez. It wasn't supposed to be this hard.
Chuck disappeared. I shouldn't have been surprised. Something always happens with Chuck. You take your eyes off of him for one moment and . . .
"There he is," Dan said.
Chuck was chasing a seagull who was racing toward the ocean. With Chuck's food. Who would have believed that at the very moment when Chuck had stopped meowing and was eating, that a seagull would swoop down and grab the turkey piece, practically right out of our fearless hero's mouth . . .
At first Chuck was stunned. But, boy, that kid can run. When he's motivated. And he wasn't bothered by wet sand or the ever increasing blowing wind. He was running for justice. To retrieve what was rightfully his.
Dan leaped up. "I'll get him."
Luckily, Chuck did not blindly follow the seagull into the water. He stopped on the edge where the waves were washing up on the sand and stood there, no doubt cursing his bad luck. Dan scooped him up and brought him back.
"I'm warning you," I said, wanting to shake the living daylights out of him.
"You saw what happened," he meowed back defiantly.
"Sometimes you have to let things go, Chucky."
But he was already on the blanket, grooming himself, self-soothing is what the vet calls it.
The ocean was beautiful. We are not complete blockheads. Finally, after the Chuck and seagull episode, we managed to hold our sandwiches and gaze out at the ocean. We hadn't seen the Jersey shore in awhile. Watching the waves roll in and out--priceless.
Later, we packed up, took a long walk away from the water, where it was less windy. And actually had a good time. On the way home, in Chuck's version of events, he managed to wrestle his turkey back from the seagull. Always the hero, my rascal Chuck!
STAY TUNED FOR MORE ADVENTURES WITH CHUCK. PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT. CHUCK WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU. JUST CLICK ON "NO COMMENTS." IT'S EASY.
