Harrowing - is that still a word?

Miriam Webster's definition of harrowing:

harrowing

 adjective

har·​row·​ing | \ ˈher-ə-wiŋ  , ˈha-rə-\

Definition of harrowing

: acutely distressing or painfula harrowing experience
MY definition of harrowing:Tidewater traffic!  And bridges!  And tunnels!  Oh my gosh!  The traffic down in Chesapeake, Norfolk and Virginia Beach is a nightmare!  Oh Lordy, Bailey earned her way, every day, but even she couldn't calm the beast within as we navigated and negotiated our way through through those cities.  When we were just going the 13 miles to and from Regent University for the square dance convention, from our campground over by the Dismal Swamp Canal, it was tolerable.  Oh yes, we did have the High Rise (YES, that's even what they called the darned thing, and OH YES, it was definitely a HIGH rise drawbridge) going AND coming, but eventually, I began to get used to it.  Of course, we were in the car, so we were a little shorter, and a whole lot lower), so it wasn't nearly so scary.  Those sidewinds on our oversized camper can get a little hairy, if ya know what I mean.  

But geepers, it seemed as if the whole world was right there, sharing the same narrow lanes as us, construction barriers on both sides, no shoulders, and they were all hell-bent on getting there in the shortest time possible, at the highest rate of speed, and in front of everyone else on the road.  We really enjoyed our time with family and friends, and visiting the beaches (who knew how hard it was going to be to find the beach in Virginia Beach!), watching Annabelle play her in her basketball tournament, dancing, the Farmer's Market, lunch with Alexander, and even crashing a wedding (oh, yes we did!), but we were truly glad to begin our discussions about how we were going to leave the area. 

First, though, we wanted to get one more beach day in for Driver. There's a reason one of us is The Driver and one of us is the Navigator.  We each have our areas of expertise, let's just say.  Once the Navigator was engaged, we found our way over to Dam Neck (Lolly, here's a link to the backstory on that, and yes, it's an interesting read!) and NAS Oceana. As usual, the beach on base was clean, expansive, and hardly occupied.  We couldn't stay long, as we were several miles from home, and it was getting close to shift change for sailors, so we knew the traffic was going to get horrible shortly.  Sorry these pictures aren't the best, but they were taken as we zoomed by.  That last photo is supposed to be of a Blue Angels plane, but, ummm....well, let's just say I have an old phone and leave it at that.  It doesn't always TAKE the shot when I press the button; and I can't quite get used to the fact that I have to press the button before what I want to shoot is actually framed.  It's a lot easier to take the beach photos, because they're not moving, LOL!

We had a gap-day where we had to leave the campground after 14 days (no, we were not permitted to stay 15 days, even though there were campers there that had not moved in 14 years...yes, really), but we were blocked out of our membership-only campground for the Memorial Day weekend, so we had to look for an overnight stop somewhere along the route to Richmond.  We decided we'd check out Fort Eustis FamCamp.  But, first, to get there, one had to cross water.  BIIIIG waters.  So that means a bridge, a tunnel, or a combination of both.  

And, please, can anyone tell me, why in the world, when the speed limit is 60 mph, and we are DOING 60 mph, and we OBVIOUSLY take up our whole lane, plus a smidge more, is it so very necessary to pass us?  Especially when there are posted signs, AND a solid line, both warning, NOT TO PASS IN TUNNEL, why people find so darned hard to wait till we all get through it to pass us at 62 mph?  ARRGH.  Talk about making a stressful situation even more stressful.  Not to mention more dangerous.  Chalk it up to you can't fix stupid, I suppose.  So, on to bigger, better and brighter subjects, right?

We passed by the Hampton Coliseum, which is a beautiful structure on its own, but it brought back the most pleasant of memories for me - waaaay back before there was an us, my dear boss lady, Mrs. Scheepers, and her good friend, The Judge, wanted to go see Lionel Ritchie perform.Well, lucky me, as a reward for standing in line with her (pre-Ticketmaster days, remember), she bought me a ticket too!  What fun it was!!

Click (here) if you can't see the video link below.

So, anyway, we get over the big bridge, over the not so big bridge, through the tunnel, and over the long bridge, through the construction, and TO the base just fine. Ummm...but there's the gate......and there's a sign that says All Trucks and Oversize Vehicles Stay Right.  Whaaaa?  Quick decision time - yes, that's US.  Yes, there was a debate.  Why?  Is the rule not "navigator rules?"  Are there ever any exceptions to that?  (that's right, the correct answer is NO.) Navigator rules.  We went right.  Oh, thank goodness we did!  Going right took us into a waiting/staging area where trucks were getting inspected, but then shuffled off around the guard gate, through a wrought iron gate that was wider than us and didn't have an overhead canopy that was lower than our roof. After presenting our ID's for a cursory glance-over, and getting our salute from the MP, we went through the gate and followed our directions right to the FamCamp.  Getting registered was easy, but getting to our assigned site was a little interesting, as we were directed to go the wrong way in order to avoid a sharp turn we couldn't have made.  The power pedestal was on the wrong side of the camper, but we had been forewarned that was going to be the case, and being as we were only there overnight, we didn't hook up to water or sewer, just the power.  

Got all set up, and boy, was it hot.  Even for a couple of South Texans, such as ourselves, it was hot.  So, off we went, in search of the pool.  On the way in, we had seen a building marked aquatic center, so that's the direction we headed.  Prior to finding that building again, we found a sign, pointing out the direction to the outdoor pool.  Thinking that might be warmer than an indoor pool, we headed that way.  After a tour of the base (I'm sure that's not really what they had intended, but they sure didn't waste a lot of money on signage) and a ride through the school parking lot, we found the pool.  As we headed over, a lady in a pickup truck hollered out to us that it was closed, only open on the weekends.  Whaaa?  That didn't even make sense, but she assured us that's the way it was, as she had just called to check on it.  Hot as it was, but it was Wednesday.  So, we jumped back into the car and went back to the front gate, so we could retrace our way in and find that aquatic center.  Surely IT would be open.  Um.....nope, that wasn't the case either.  We did find the Center, and the DOOR was open, but there was a guard, and he informed us we were definitely not permitted inside the pool area.  But we could peep in the windows, and it was a beautiful facility. There was a beach-type entry, a lazy river area, what appeared to be a swim-up bar area (this is on base, no less!), a lap pool, and a deeper end.  As I said, it was beautiful.  But inaccessible.  Also, only open on weekends.  !  So, now we were at the end of a harrowing day, hot as blazes and disappointed to boot.  I guess the guard felt sorry for us, because he referred us over to the Field House (good luck finding the front door to that, my friends), because they had a lap pool.  True-dat, they sure did.  And it would open in about an hour and a half, at 4 pm.  At that point, we gave up looking for the pool(s) and returned to the camper for a refreshing shower and dinner of salad and something.  Today is Sunday, so don't expect me to remember what dinner was way back then!  Heck, you're lucky that I can remember I made banana pancakes for breakfast this morning!

Y'all stay safe out there!