So . . . you wanna know about our little day-time jaunt to Nantucket? Well, pull up a chair . . . I have a tale to tell.
Before We Start . . .
Before I spin this little yarn, I must provide a little back story. In years past, my family vacation has been on Nantucket. I rent the same little house and go during the same time of year – fourth of July week. The house isn’t one of the grand estates you find all over the island, but it’s within walking distance to Nobadeer beach and has ocean views from the upstairs bedrooms. I was not able to go this year, so I promised myself that I would make it to the island at some point during the summer – even if just for a day. The summer went by and still I hadn’t gone. I finally decided to just pick a Saturday and go. My sister Denise happily agreed to accompany me and we gratefully had blissful weather.
One of my favorite things about going to Nantucket is the ferry ride. As kids, my family went to Prince Edward Island every summer to stay the entire summer on my great uncle’s farm. We had to take a ferry from New Brunswick to PEI and some of my favorite memories from that time were of the ferry ride. The Nantucket ferry brings all those memories back and I just love the long, slow, haul to the island. It’s just over two hours, but I love every second of it. I grab a coffee, I walk the top deck, I take the obligatory Instagram shot of the ferry pulling away from Hyannis harbor, and 600 wind-blown selfies hoping one is worth a post.
Because what could go wrong . . .
For this trip, we took the 9am ferry over and though in the past I have taken a car to the island, this time I decided we would rent a moped. Because that’s a great idea . . . right? Right?
So, we walk off the ferry and head straight to the Nantucket Bike Shop. It’s literally a 2-minute walk from the boat. I rent a “double” moped so that my sister can ride on back as we explore the island. We pick out our helmets and stand outside where we are given a lightening round tutorial on how to operate the moped. I’m still struggling with the helmet strap when Mr. Instructor winds up his speech and asks who wants to go for the test drive first. I look to the young woman beside me (let’s call her Anna) who was with her mom.
“They can go.”
I literally can’t remember one bit of Mr. Instructor’s tutorial because I was messing with the helmet strap that still wouldn’t unsnap. I’m hoping I can observe and learn from Anna so that I’ll have it down pat by the time it’s my turn. Mr. Instructor asks if either of us have driven a moped and I say yes – my son had one way back when.
(In truth, I cautiously drove my son’s moped down our driveway and around our little cul-de-sac before returning back up the driveway, washing my hands of the whole contraption. But Mr. Instructor didn’t need to know that, and I didn’t exactly lie).
Anna gives me a droll look before proclaiming that she has one at home that she rides regularly.
Show-off.
Anna straddles the moped and before you can say “vroom-vroom”, she’s off driving the path specified by Mr. Instructor. A quick ride around the block. Anna comes back safe and sound, Mr. Instructor gives her a nod and her mom jumps on back. They’re gone in a flash and suddenly it’s my turn. I am still struggling with the helmet, so I forgo unstrapping it and squeeze my head through the opening between helmet and strap – nearly taking my ears off while doing so. I’m about to jump onto the bike like a pro – because yeah – I’m a badass, when Mr. Instructor holds up his hand.
“The kickstand?” He asks.
Duh! Right.
I can’t remember how to do that because, hello?! Helmet issues! So, Mr. Instructor helps me out and releases the kickstand for me. Which, I might add, you don’t actually kick at all. I straddle the bike, hold the brake, and turn the key.
Nope.
“Push the button to start.” He says. Mr. Instructor is looking a little skeptical.
Yes. Of course. That’s right.
I push the button and am finally ready to pull out in front of the constant stream of large lethal-looking cars that had just arrived on the ferry. In retrospect, this is probably the point where I realized that sheer bravado and a “can-do” attitude can only get you so far. I am literally terrified to pull out. How fast does it go? Will I wobble? How hard is it to steer? How do I brake again? And Nantucket’s streets in this part of town are made of cobblestone.
Cobblestone.
Who’s bright idea was that???
I am just about to ditch the whole idea for pedal bikes when a car stops and indicates for me to go. It’s now or never, so I . . . go.
And sure, it wasn’t pretty and there was a little bit of wobbling. And maybe I came inches from connecting with the curb. And yes, I missed the first left I was supposed to take because it’s a left and it’s difficult turning into traffic so I just kept going straight until there was a left I could easily turn in to, but heck – I did it.
Yes, I took a little longer than little miss smarty-pants Anna, but I made it in one-piece and when I pulled up in from of the shop Mr. Instructor looked mildly surprised and maybe even a little impressed. I had survived the test drive.
And Off We Go . . .
So, Mr. Instructor gave us the go-ahead and Denise, surprisingly, jumped on back without a care in the world. Which tells me she had NO idea that I had NO idea what I was doing. I waited for a break in traffic, gave it gas and we were off, bumping along the cobbled street. Not, might I add, crashed into any of the nearby cars. Denise specified she wanted to go left into town, but nope. We went right. Because it was a heck of a lot easier to go right then left.
So, we went right and soon found ourselves on actual roads. Were there stop signs, yes. Did I stop? 😂😂😂. Denise tapped me on the shoulder and pointed out that I had rolled through a stop sign. I informed her to get used to it. I wasn’t stopping unless I absolutely had to.
Puttering Around Nantucket . . .
So, where’d we go? Our first stop was Jetties Sand Bar because, like I said . . . right turns were easier and that’s where they led us. And before you get your panties in a bunch, it’s not like a “bar, bar”. It’s more like a beach-side restaurant that yes, serves alcohol, but I wasn’t stupid enough to actually order an apple martini when I had yet to master use of the kick-stand.
So, we sat outside at a picnic table and ordered lunch with sodas. We chatted easily and dug our toes in the sand reveling in the blissfully warm day we had been given. When we decided to leave, we returned to where the moped was parked in the lot. A SUV loaded with adults saw me squeezing my head into my helmet (I still hadn’t figured it out), and they asked if we were leaving. I looked at the gentleman driving and decided to come clean.
“Yes. We’re leaving. But it might take me a bit.”
He nodded, smiled good-humoredly and waited for me to pull out. I looked back over my shoulder at him.
“It ain’t gonna be pretty.”
The entire car burst out laughing. And though I did manage to pull out without breaking my neck, I’m sure there is a TikTok video somewhere going viral at my expense.
I got the hang of riding the moped pretty quickly after that. Even managed a left turn into a busy street AND a rotary. I literally only stopped once while driving and that was coming back into town after our ride from Sconset. I had no choice. It was either stop or crash into the car in front of me. And despite my rocky start – I LOVED puttering around the island on that moped. It was a blast. It was so much fun that the next time I go, I’m renting it again.
There is so much more to share about this little day excursion of ours, but this post is already long, so I will continue our tale with the next post (you can find it here: Part Two). I would love to post a pic of us on the moped, but that was on my sister’s phone (may it rest-in-peace) and that story will come next. I will, however, leave you with one little gem for your amusement . . .
– Darlene
(. . . And for how the day ends? click here: PART TWO )
You guys are too funny !!! I love it 🥰
Your article was great. I’ll share my sister and I’d adventure with you when I’m done 💕
Would LOVE that! 🙂