Unexpected Mail and a U.S. Crossing Timetrial

“Any mail?” is a question Jack and I often ask each other upon returning to the Airstream. Since we’re a moving target, the only mail we might expect is a parking ticket, so “no mail!” is the preferred response. Amazingly, we’ve only averaged a parking ticket per year in the 31’ beast.

When our schedule allows, Jack and I coach volleyball camps during the week. After finishing up a 3-day camp in Richmond, we were out to dinner with my sister and the rest of the Virginia Commonwealth University coaching staff. Upon returning to the home, something appeared to be on the windshield. Expecting the standard “Parking Ticket,” we instead found a short note from one of the campers: “Nothing sexier than 2 bald guys! From Sarah and the bald girl.”

Sarah is 16, or maybe 14. Sarah’s ride home, the ‘bald girl,’ was indeed bereft of hair. Perhaps the note was merely Sarah thanking us for our help in the camp. I like to think that the bald girl appreciated the logo on our shirts and the motorhome promoting the beauty of a clean head. HeadBlade , a system for shaving the head, is our primary sponsor. Thanks to Sarah and the bald girl for the nice note -- now we'll have to change our preconceived notion of mail.

Pretty easy pull, the 361 miles from Richmond to Long Island, NY where we would play in the 4^th annual Island Beach Volleyball event. After the now usual morning rain, tea, and guests (including the infamous Tony Zapata and Owen McKibbin) we proceeded to play some of the North East’s finest beach volleyball players. The 4^th time was apparently the charm. After my past 3 previous ho-hum finishes at the IBVB Jack and I finished a respectable 3^rd, netting us enough gas money to get back across the U.S. We finished on Sunday, and I was scheduled to play the AVP Qualifier with Scott Hill on Thursday in Hermosa Beach.

After toying with the idea of leaving Jack and the Airstream on this coast for a month or so, we decided that goin’ back to Cali, to Cali for some honest work and AVP tournaments was the way to go. Check my math: 3000 miles, averaging 50 mph. Should take about 60 hours. So we timed it right. Leaving NYC on Monday at noon, we should make it to Hermosa Beach for a Thursady 8 a.m. Qualifier, minus a few hours for time changes.

We crossed the country stopping only 11 times for a total of 11 hours. 7 times for gas, 2 food, 1 no-gas, and 1 no power (had to replace the fuel filter). We calmly parked in Hermosa Beach, walking distance from the site, at 3 a.m. In eight hours, I was going to play with a partner I’d never even peppered with, Scott Hill. (We qualified, then managed to take the first game off Lambo and Hyden on Friday, but managed only a 17^th).

It’s hardly beneficial to call out a streak mid-streak, but the success we had has been phenomenal. Parking success, that is. Eight blocks from the Hermosa Pier. Three blocks from the south-side Manhattan courts. Heard the ref’s “10 minutes to gametime” call from my front doorstep in Boulder. $5 / day at the Denver Airport while I flew (I’m not John Madden) to Chicago, and finally, alongside center court for the whole Labor Day weekend event in Aspen, the Motherlode. Despite Sarah and the bald girl, we'll have to keep an eye over our shoulder for new mail...