Leaving Home

On Friday I rode down to Connecticut, to the land on which I was raised, and realized it was the first time I left Western Massachusetts this year. For someone who adores wandering, exploring, this is surprising, but I see plenty of positive in it. Sure, yes, injury of my right leg in some as-yet-to-be-certainly-defined way limited my ability to ramble, but I wasn't feeling constrained or limited in my surroundings. That's a strong indication I found a good place to land.

Example: a couple weeks ago I had ample time heading from Holyoke to an afternoon appointment in Northampton so I turned off the easy roll down Route 5 to climb the access road to the old ski area at Mt Tom. From there, old woods roads and trails connected me to the Mt Tom state reservation road a few miles away and included a chance to see if there was still lion's mane mushroom growing on the tree where I'd found it (well, credit to Dan who first pointed it out during the trail running race) the last two years. No luck this time, but while I was enjoying my bike push on the Mt Tom trails, where riding is prohibited, a runner approached from the rear.

"Yay, trail runner" though was met with, "Oh, hi Salem." It was Kristen, partner of my riding, and eventually running, friend Todd, whom I met a few years ago on one of the Beast Coast fun runs. After our quick chat in the woods, short enough that she was feeling only a little cold from dropping off running effort, I reflected on how often these chance encounters happen up here verses where I'd lived for decades. People I like, who share my interests, are drawn to this area.

This weekend's departure from here was to join a group a families that first gathered when I wasn't even yet a tot to hike together. Everyone had some association to Pratt and Whitney and a group of engineers who would rock climb together on a weekly basis. This was in the days before climbing was a sport, more just a way for people who liked mountains to reach the top of them. These climbers all liked being in the woods, and they found they also liked eachother, so even when two left Pratt and Whitney for professorships at MIT and UConn and another started an airfoil business, they stayed in touch. Lucky for me, I have legacy status and can join this group of exceptional human beings.

First time I joined the group

Atop Bear Mountain in Connecticut

To join the group, I first needed to get to the patch of woods my dad calls home. There are multiple viable and reasonably pleasant ways to cover that fifty miles, so once I started heading in the general direction, I played my game of using random inputs from the environment to pick my route. Such as: I saw a car in the last hundred yards before the left onto Carver Street, so I didn't take it, and so forth.

Selections did lead me to a closed bridge,

well, closed to cars!

A year away, it seems, is a bit, and I was surprised by how many areas I knew didn't seem all that familiar. Ever the road where I grew up, while not new, felt like I was seeing it with new eyes, a new perspective. It almost seemed like I was exploring very familiar turf, and there is an interesting grace in that. It was a good visit with my dad, and I enjoyed my interactions with the elders as well as Todd, one of the other family "kids", just three years my senior. We did just this year lose the oldest member of the group to mortality, so we all prize our ability to keep community as long as we can.

Sunday morning I, and all three of my wheels, started the trip back north. "Three wheels?" you ask. Yes, late this summer, I'd pointed my dad, newly car free, to a Craigslist ad for a Bob trailer in New Haven. If you aren't familiar with them, Bob made pretty much the bee's knees, shins, and ankles of bicycle touring trailers, but bike touring being as limited a market as it is, Bob dropped trailer production to focus on the stroller side of their business. I guess producing children is a more popular activity than spending all day on a bike seat. Go figure.

My dad bought the trailer but in his first use with a thirty pound load found he wasn't comfortable keeping it level when stopped with with the leverage he had from handlebars, so it seems a more typical but slower two wheeled trailer will be a better match for the shorter trips he'll made needing to carry more than a backpack load. Yes, I have mentioned the graces of a rear rack and panniers, minus a sweaty back, but I accept that my dad will opt for such only after lots, and lots, and one more lot of due time. As a bonus, I was given the Bob trailer for which I'd been receiving listing notifications. It is nice. Snug fit means mounting takes a few minutes longer than the copy trailer I'd used riding to races, but that also means zero rattling on the road, and yes, I already have two modifications in mind for speeding installation. I'll also more securely fix the fender that I needed to move off the tire three times in fifty miles.

I'm black in back!

It was a good trip. I like travels. I like exploring, even places I've seen many times before. I should try heading the other direction before going that way turns extra wintery and cold.