Montauk for Independence Day

Last year, Ed and I hadn't been together all that long when the 4th of July rolled around. We went to Central Park and had a mellow picnic, which was very nice. This year, I decided I knew him well enough to step up our planning, and proposed a day trip somewhere. I figured I didn't need a back-up escape plan in case things went awry. (This is a precaution I highly recommend taking early in any relationship.) Ed's been wanting to go to the beach for a while now, so we planned to take a day trip to one of the many beaches in the area, probably somewhere on Long Island. I was worried that everything would be so crowded that we wouldn't enjoy ourselves, though, and spent lots of time on the internet looking for beaches that were reputed to be sparsely populated. Then Ed called me with another idea: We'd hop a train to Montauk as soon as I was done with work, spend the night there, and lounge on the beach all day on the 4th before coming back to New York that night. The only problem was that the train left at 5:50, leaving me virtually no time to get home, pack, then rush with Ed to the train station. So I sent poor Ed an extremely detailed packing list, including descriptions of where to find everything on it, and hoped for the best. A little after 5:00, he met me at Penn Station with two well-stocked suitcases, and before long we were aboard the Long Island Railroad (LIRR) and headed north. 

Montauk is at the very end of the LIRR line, and so we were on the train for about 3 hours. I enjoyed the trip, which took us through lots of picturesque little towns. We read, napped, played Boggle, and shivered to pass the time. (The AC on those trains is ridiculous.) A little after 9:00, we pulled into Montauk and took a cab to our beach side hotel. While the location was superb, the hotel itself wasn't. The bed was small and hard, the TV didn't work, and everything felt damp. Still, we didn't plan to spend much time in the room, so I was happy. We put our bags down and went onto the balcony, where we saw a guy on the beach trying to launch one of those paper air balloons that you light a fire under. The wind took it immediately and he began to chase it toward us. Then he seemed to have a hold of it, so we went back inside. Five minutes later, we were walking out the door to find a restaurant when a man came barreling by us into the office. "There's a fire on the side of the building!" he yelled. Oh boy. Sure enough, we peered around the building and saw that some of the plants covering a dune were glowing softly. The lady at the front desk called the fire department, and the man went charging back out with a fire extinguisher. There wasn't much to extinguish though, as another guy had just about covered the whole blaze with sand already. Then several fire trucks arrived, so we figured it was safe to go find something for dinner.

During the night, I woke up to the sound of pouring rain. By the time we woke up the next morning, the sky was an ominous gray, and the forecast, which we had not consulted before boarding the LIRR, called for rain all day. Glumly, Ed and I decided to go for a run on the beach anyway. We ran by the water's edge where the sand is firmer and followed the beach for a mile and a half before turning back. We took a dip in the ocean to cool off - it wasn't terribly hot out, but it was pretty humid - and it felt wonderful. Then we showered and packed our things, and by the time we were out on the beach again the sun was in full force! Within a few hours, there wasn't a single cloud in sight. I slathered on sunscreen and spent the next few hours lounging on a towel. Ed went swimming a few more times, but I didn't relish the thought of a 3-hour train ride home with salty, sandy hair, so I abstained. We had a late lunch and wandered around the town a bit, then got on the 5:30 train back to New York.

It's hard to believe that this time yesterday I was basking on a beach, though a glance at my ankles is a good reminder. I didn't hit them with sunscreen, so while I'm mostly unscathed, I have red blotches on my lower shins and feet. D'oh. I look like I went wading in a poison ivy patch. But since my red ankles are a souvenir from a lovely day, I don't mind much.