Monday, July 16, 2012

A little farther on the bike trip

Mears! Yup, Mears. That's how far my bicycling has gotten me as of this weekend past. I started at the park between Whitehall and Montegue with the idea that I would take the excellent bike path north. As it was, although the bike path is rather nice in and of itself I chose to ride on the local, shore hugging, sometimes perilously narrow roads instead. My support vehicle closely following behind with flashers going when there was no side area. Traffic was very light so that didn't create any difficulties. My reasoning behind not taking the path was that when I walked around the lake almost 50 years ago I wandered as much as followed any particular path. I can tell you, wander I did on those streets. I think in Montegue I actually went backwards a couple times on the curves, twists and turns. Beautiful little town with flags a flying and flower baskets a hanging and neatly carved bushes and painstakingly manicured lawns. The route I took through town kept me mostly away from the touristy spots and it was nice to meander in the midst of every day life in a lakeside town. I wondered if the inhabitants ever considered just how lucky they were to spend their time only a stone's throw from such a treasure. I passed, perhaps a dozen and a half of them either walking a dog, jogging or passing the time with someone else. Houses were often painted in brightly contrasting colors, evoking a sense of a cheerful, pre-industrial existence. Reminiscent of the homes I saw in the movies while growing up. Trees draped over the roadways as if designed to provide a tunnel of leaves shielding me from the rays of the hot sun. Drifting in and out of the neighborhood I found differing approaches to lakeside life. First a shuttered cape cod somewhat modest in size and decorations and then, right next door a lavish, sprawling, wealth flaunting semi mansion. Quite a contrast but at the same time enlightening. We are all different, even here. After what seemed to be an inexhaustible number of hills and tight curves I rounded a downhill right turn and headed north winding between marshes, white beeches and ponds of varying sizes. That is where I passed my first fellow bicycle rider. Her lack of response to my friendly wave sort of surprised me. Head bent down, legs churning, speeding along as if trying to elude some sort of evil. We all ride for different reasons and she was indeed intent on hers. Just the same, I enjoy a wave of camaraderie. I'm not the French racing type of competitor. I could smell the differing aroma's provided by the landscape. A little more about this trip next time. Too much for today.

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