Back to Denny’s for breakfast. This is Tim at Denny’s the night before. Same place, different time.
We packed, wrapped everything in plastic bags (especially our iPhones), and started east on Route 23 in the rain.
We rode up hills and down hills—in the rain. Trucks and cars sprayed their wake on us and we sprayed our own wake on ourselves. I noticed all sorts of potential pictures:
My favorite white car stuck up in the air coming out of Oneonta
A set of two silos with a grand entrance (stairs and large side railings) between them. I thought of my friend Sophia and her study of silos
Glorious piles of rocks, of gravel, of tree stumps. I thought of our friend Ed and his study
Wrecked rusty cars and trucks. I thought of my friend Mary and what fine images she might make
Buildings sliding back into the earth and I thought of my friend Jerry and how he would record them
The list of potential photographs could go on and on. . . but I regret to say, I didn’t take any of them. My phone was in my pocket wrapped in a plastic bag.
This is the only picture I took. I saw the slug during a trip to the “necessary” (I think that’s what Bethia called it in Caleb’s Crossing). It was a wonderful day for a slug. He seemed quite happy. Later alongside the road I saw a large group of yellow snails, many with brown stripes. I don’t think I have ever seen snails like this. But we didn’t stop, so I didn’t get a photograph.
We stopped for a second breakfast in Stamford and thankfully there was no air-conditioning in the cafe. Here Tim is drying off with the travel towel our friend Jane gave us. It’s a wonderful comfort when every inch of you is wet and you are looking for relief.
Tim lent me his Block Island sweatshirt for our visit to the warm indoors. Good rest. When it was time to go, we put all our wet clothes back on again and resumed our trip. I think gortex raincoats start out as raincoats and end up as wetsuits. Somehow they do help you stay warm, but not particularly dry.
Later in the afternoon the rain stopped. One thought I had about why we do this—why we keep riding when it’s raining (beyond sticking to a schedule) is that it feels so good when the rain stops. It was a good ride. We covered 50 miles and arrived at the Thompson House in Windham for a welcome break. Tomorrow we’re not going anywhere.
The view our our back window.
I am almost finished with Caleb’s Crossing and tomorrow will resume my reading of an Italian mystery series by Andrea Camilleri. Thanks to my friend Poppy I have a new series to work my way through.