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edenfallingToday (Saturday) was the day of the Lost Keys.
Let me start from the beginning.
Vicky had a bunch of postcards to send to various friends, I had a postcard for my grandmother, we had enough trash and recycling to make a run into town worthwhile, and we needed a few groceries (milk and sandwich meat, mostly). Vicky is also training to run a half marathon this fall.
So we decided to head into town (with Dottie, the dog, in tow) and drive a couple miles south on 371 to get Vicky to a good starting point on the Pike Bay loop trail. Then Dad and I planned to buy the groceries, see if we could also get stamps, and go back to the island until Vicky was ready to come home, probably 2 to 2.5 hours after she started.
Things went fine until Dad realized that Vicky had had our only set of boat and garage keys.
First we continued buying groceries. Then we attempted to track her progress on a very inaccurate schematic trail map, and find a point where the trail intersected with a road. After several minutes driving along unpaved gravel lanes, I remembered that Vicky was carrying her cell phone. Luckily for us, her phone was also on.
Vicky informed us that she did not have the keys. Instead, she had set them on top of the minivan while loading Dottie into her crate, and forgotten to take them down before we drove out of the marina into town.
*headdesk*
So Dad and I headed back along the gravel roads, back past the recycling bins, back through the grocery store parking lot, and back to the marina, looking for the keys by the side of the road. (The only reason this was at all feasible is that the keys were attached to a virulent orange foam rubber dohickey, to keep them afloat if dropped into the lake.) We found no keys.
Okay, so they probably fell off in the garage, right? Well, we couldn't get into the garage, because the garage key was on that keyring, and I had stupidly shut the padlock even though I knew we were only going to be out for a short trip.
Fortunately, the marina office keeps a master key to all their garage slots, as well as spare boat and cabin keys for most islanders. (Bless them. Well, okay, it's mostly for business purposes -- they're the ones who drag most of the boats out of the water for the winter, and store them in our garage slots instead of our dock slips, but still. Bless them.) We borrowed their keys, unlocked the garage...
And did not find our keys there, either.
Where did they go? It's a mystery!
After one more fruitless backtracking attempt, Dad and I drove back out to the island using the borrowed keys, whereupon he grabbed one of our spare sets, turned around, and both picked up Vicky and returned the marina keys.
End of story. Unless, of course, someone finds the keys and turns them in to either the marina office or the police station. We won't have time to check Monday morning, since we need to reach the Twin Cities in time for Vicky and me to catch our planes, but Dad may well look around Tuesday or Wednesday. We shall see if anything turns up.
And that is the Saga of the Lost Keys.
---------------
After all that frustration, we took advantage of the sun and west wind (which means calm water on the east shore) to swim and sunbathe down on the dock. Then we had burgers for dinner, accompanied by blueberry wine. Yum! :-)
Let me start from the beginning.
Vicky had a bunch of postcards to send to various friends, I had a postcard for my grandmother, we had enough trash and recycling to make a run into town worthwhile, and we needed a few groceries (milk and sandwich meat, mostly). Vicky is also training to run a half marathon this fall.
So we decided to head into town (with Dottie, the dog, in tow) and drive a couple miles south on 371 to get Vicky to a good starting point on the Pike Bay loop trail. Then Dad and I planned to buy the groceries, see if we could also get stamps, and go back to the island until Vicky was ready to come home, probably 2 to 2.5 hours after she started.
Things went fine until Dad realized that Vicky had had our only set of boat and garage keys.
First we continued buying groceries. Then we attempted to track her progress on a very inaccurate schematic trail map, and find a point where the trail intersected with a road. After several minutes driving along unpaved gravel lanes, I remembered that Vicky was carrying her cell phone. Luckily for us, her phone was also on.
Vicky informed us that she did not have the keys. Instead, she had set them on top of the minivan while loading Dottie into her crate, and forgotten to take them down before we drove out of the marina into town.
*headdesk*
So Dad and I headed back along the gravel roads, back past the recycling bins, back through the grocery store parking lot, and back to the marina, looking for the keys by the side of the road. (The only reason this was at all feasible is that the keys were attached to a virulent orange foam rubber dohickey, to keep them afloat if dropped into the lake.) We found no keys.
Okay, so they probably fell off in the garage, right? Well, we couldn't get into the garage, because the garage key was on that keyring, and I had stupidly shut the padlock even though I knew we were only going to be out for a short trip.
Fortunately, the marina office keeps a master key to all their garage slots, as well as spare boat and cabin keys for most islanders. (Bless them. Well, okay, it's mostly for business purposes -- they're the ones who drag most of the boats out of the water for the winter, and store them in our garage slots instead of our dock slips, but still. Bless them.) We borrowed their keys, unlocked the garage...
And did not find our keys there, either.
Where did they go? It's a mystery!
After one more fruitless backtracking attempt, Dad and I drove back out to the island using the borrowed keys, whereupon he grabbed one of our spare sets, turned around, and both picked up Vicky and returned the marina keys.
End of story. Unless, of course, someone finds the keys and turns them in to either the marina office or the police station. We won't have time to check Monday morning, since we need to reach the Twin Cities in time for Vicky and me to catch our planes, but Dad may well look around Tuesday or Wednesday. We shall see if anything turns up.
And that is the Saga of the Lost Keys.
---------------
After all that frustration, we took advantage of the sun and west wind (which means calm water on the east shore) to swim and sunbathe down on the dock. Then we had burgers for dinner, accompanied by blueberry wine. Yum! :-)
