Long walks

The phone rang at 10. I'd been awake for hours, lolling about in cutoff sweats and my pollo t-shirt, watching crappy movies, the Today show, the news.

"Hey, girl date. Where are you?"

"Did we have a plan? Am I late?"

"No, I just missed you."

We did have a plan, of sorts, to walk to Arlington Cemetery, visit Kayla's dad and see the flags. We revised the plan, changed the destination, and agreed to meet within minutes.

I padded back to my bedroom and dug through my shoes, trying to find a pair to accommodate my ever-growing array of blisters and bruises, the tender bits on the balls of my feet, the littlest toe, the middle of my arch. I filled my Nalgene bottle, dug out my metro card and packed my favorite pair of flip flops, in case I needed a break from the sneakers. I headed out into the already steamy morning.

"Looks great," I called to the woman gardening next door. "It always looks great."

When she opened the door, I saw that Kayla wore equally sensible/dorky shoes. Her feet, too, suffered from one too many walks in flip flops. She smeared sunscreen onto all of her exposed parts, buttoned the straps on her dress, filled her own bottle and we left.

Past the Capitol we walked, under the trees along Independence. Construction continued for the Folklife Festival, despite the holiday. In the middle of it all, on a cross street, floats waited, empty and anxious for the Memorial Day parade. A marching band in full uniform, blue suits, hats and capes, posed for a picture. A buxom woman straightened her scout son's hat.

Tourists lined the Mall from the Capitol to the Lincoln. Flags flew at half mast, billowing in the breeze around the Washington Monument. At the National World War II Memorial, a young man with a microphone and recorder interviewed his elderly bench mate. The Korean War Veterans Memorial and the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall were covered in flowers and flags, crowded with visitors on this Memorial Day.

As we headed into Rock Creek Park, I stopped for water and Kayla tried to point two women toward the WWII memorial.

"Just follow the Reflecting Pool; it's at the other end."

"No, no, no. Not the Vietnam Memorial. World. War. Two."

"Um, yeah. It's at the other end of the Reflecting Pool."

"Are you sure? We thought it was that way."

They gestured toward Rock Creek Park, toward Foggy Bottom and Georgetown. We almost let them. They were rude. Instead, we headed through the park, continue our walk into Georgetown, Dupont, upper Northwest.

Sweating through her cotton dress, Kayla asked to stop for a minute or five. She talked to her mom on the phone as I sipped iced coffee. I looked at my phone, the clock.

"We've been walking for two hours."

Her mom suggested stopping, catching a metro the rest of the way, to shopping, home.

"I tried that," Kayla laughed into the phone. "Kristin's never been to the zoo."

Not the National Zoo, anyway.

We finished our walk uphill, toward Woodley Park, and meandered through strollers and sleeping babes to see the sleeping animals; pandas and big cats stretched languorously in the afternoon heat. We cooled down with lemonade and fat free, sugar free soft serve frozen yogurt, vanilla twisting into chocolate in a cone.

After an hour or two, maybe three, we headed back toward the Metro. We passed a man pushing an elderly woman in a stroller. An actual stroller. One with FONZ (Friends of National Zoo) stenciled on the back. Her legs jutted, feet hanging over the edge as she sat, regally, in a space generally reserved for kids.

The day stretched into more walking and shopping, a movie and popcorn. We both walked a little out of our way on the way home, splitting the distance between her house and mine and chatting. Eventually, we separated, heading to our homes, our respective couches.

The neighbor was still gardening when I walked past, nine hours after I called my greeting. I smiled and nodded, quickening my pace with every step closer to my door. Seven miles, at least. The zoo by way of Rock Creek Park. Memorials and mammals, shopping and talking. A long day and a happy one. At some point I realized that I'd already taken off Tuesday. I planned for another walk.


Tag: Walking Washington DC National Zoo