By land and by sea: a few kayakers passed us on the D&R Canal this morning.
June 8, 2018
More than 25 miles of our ride today were along the D&R Canal, so it got to feel like home. Just when you start to drift off, though, lulled by the flat path and the quiet, the pretty trees and slow-moving water, all of a sudden ker-chunk, ker-chunk, splat —you hit some bigger gravel rocks or barely dodge a mud puddle. We loved the path, but it does have its rough patches and its mud-puddle dips, some more passable than others.
But I should start at the beginning, meeting Don and Pam for breakfast at PJ’s Pancakes. Years ago, before I’d even met my husband, Bob, he and Don coached the first women’s soccer team at Princeton. They were a good team: Don worked as the school’s financial aid director and loved soccer, Bob was one of the men’s lacrosse coaches and needed more income. Bob’s years at Princeton were happy ones and Don and Pam were a big reason why. They offered him a family of sorts, including their three young (then) kids. It was a treat to see them both today after so many years and hear about their kids, grandkids, and retirement (except that Don’s not really retired, setting a poor example for Bob).
Silvia joined us after breakfast to ride. We only had to suggest the idea once and she rearranged her work to take the morning off. We were glad for her local knowledge and her company. With three people biking, especially on greenways, we can take turns where two people share conversation and the third zens out. That waseasy enough to do on the canal path until we hit a slipway with big rocks or a giant puddle. Ker-plunk, splot, crunch, ker-plunk!
One of the slipways along the canal path that I opted not to try to ride. Wide tires and light panniers recommended.
Things got a little interesting as the afternoon started heating up. We were a little weary of the bumpy path and had already decided to catch a train at some point into New York instead of taking one more day to ride there. Niles, my Greenway colleague, has ridden the New York and New Jersey stretches. He planted the seed of the train idea last week when we saw him in Washington DC. I told him I was a little apprehensive about some of the route through the Meadowlands, etc., where it’s highway shoulders and rough bridges.
“Take the train,” he said.
Yeah, we thought, it’s not like we’d be missing pretty greenway stretches.
The afternoon was getting hotter and I was getting really attached to the train idea —air conditioning! Maybe ice coffee! We had just finished the canal path and turned into the Rutgers University campus when Silvia noticed her front tire was soft. We were right by an East Coast Greenway kiosk, which conveniently offered shade to fix the flat. With a new tube, her tire still seemed a bit soft — so all three of us were ready to hang it up. We rode a few more miles to cross into New Brunswick and head to the NJ Transit train station. Silvia headed south back to Princeton; we bought tickets for Penn Station in NYC.
Waiting for the train with Tanya. Note that I did indeed get iced coffee; my dreams keep coming true. Dee heroically rushed downstairs to Dunkin Donuts minutes before the train was due.
I want more practice bringing my bike on trains — it’s how I’ll get home to North Carolina from Sally and Dee’s house in Providence. The elevator at the New Brunswick station didn’t work, and we needed to get our heavy bikes up two flights. I watched a woman wheel her bike on the escalator so I knew we could do it, too. I pulled my bike beside hers and Tanya and I started talking. When I told her we were on a long trip she asked, “oh, so you take the train to the next cities?”
“No!” I told her, a bit defensively. Just this time!
The fun thing is, Tanya lives one town away from Silvia and is new to biking, she’d like to find people to ride with. Silvia leads easy, family friendly rides and loves encouraging people, especially women, to ride. Tanya took my email address and I promised to connect her with Silvia, who waved to us from the other side of the tracks.
Tanya was beaming. “I was having a tough day today,” she said, “I am so glad I could talk with you.”
So here we are in the Big Apple, with a whole extra day to play and three nights of a hotel suite on the Upper West Side, thanks to a very kind friend. We headed west from Penn Station and up the Hudson River Greenway to our hotel. The greenway was zipping as always, from the spandex-clad road bikers to the commuters on fixies and tourists on bike shares—it is one of the most heavily used sections of the East Coast Greenway. I told Dee that New York City often overwhelms me, sensory overload, but riding or running along the Hudson River always grounds me — it’s the best way I can “do” New York. (Which is also why the terrorist attack on cyclists here hit me so hard. We passed jersey barriers set at every driveway entrance along the greenway, a sad and somewhat clumsy effort by the city to prevent a similar attack.)
Today’s train shortcut certainly solidified our standing as non-EDIers (the Every Damn Inch club). We are still proud to have hit our tenth state, five to go, and we are oh so close to 2,000 miles. I celebrated tonight by buying a new t-shirt for these last three weeks; my pink shirt is a performance fabric that retains terrible smells and is ready to be burned. Perhaps we’ll hold a ceremony on the banks of the Hudson and burn the shirt in honor of all the trail angels who have been watching over us — as a woman way back in Daytona Beach wished for us. Namaste!
Check out the mileage, from a kiosk along the canal today. I know, you can smell that pink shirt from here!
Dee, Virginia, and I hanging with David on Sunday afternoon at Brooklyn Museum
June 10, 2018
New York can be a magical city. I’m understanding that better the more I visit — which has been more frequent with both our kids living here and work sometimes bringing me to town.
Saturday in the city was dazzling. The air was clear and dry, the sun bright, the temperature comfortable. All day I watched the parade of humanity—people of all ages, ethnicities, walks of life. We rented Citi Bikes and rode through Central Park — because we haven’t gotten enough time on bikes, you know. The park was full: a women’s 10k had just finished and the usual hordes of Saturday morning cyclists and runners mixed with the women, and we wove in and around all of them.
Earlier, over breakfast at Starbucks (and a steady stream of humanity circling through the coffee shop, too) Dee and I got into a fairly deep conversation that started with travel and life goals and leapt to dying: how we die, fear of dying. You know, light stuff over our yogurt and oatmeal.
The profundity multiplied during a play with Virginia that afternoon. Secret Life of Humans, at the tiny 59E59 theater on the East Side; I highly recommend it. It’s a simple play that asks profound questions as it surveys the history of humanity while telling the story of one man’s life. Where did we all come from? How does our past help us face challenges today? And what is the end game, what is the human species looking to accomplish? That question chills me.
Meanwhile, the news this week of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain both committing suicide has been in the back of my mind. I’ve read opinion pieces trying to explain their deaths. I’m left feeling sad for their pain but it honed my sense that this life is all we have, we should stop sweating the stuff that doesn’t matter and treasuring what does matter.
From the play, I walked alone through Central Park to meet my daughter. I passed a pop-up rink of skate dancers — men and women my age and older dancing on rollerblades to the Talking Heads and other fun music. My first thought was, huh, don’t these 60-somethings feel a little silly dancing in public? My second thought, quick on the heels of my first: good for them. This life is fleeting, our challenges can be enormous, why not embrace life and dance?
I didn't join them, mind you, but I did flash big, encouraging smiles.
I got to visit with my daughter, Kate, one night and celebrate her well-deserved promotion to HR director at a Harlem nonprofit. And I got to go to the David Bowie exhibit with my boy, Tommy, and celebrate his 26th birthday.
Profound thoughts continued this morning when, for a variety of reasons, Dee, Virginia and I attended the morning Unitarian-Universalist church service a few blocks from our hotel. The sermon was about loving a dying world, how to have hope in the face of environmental destruction. I was in tears by the end of the service, it was all so relevant — finding religion in the great outdoors, following our passions as the best defense against cynicism and despair.
I’m soaking up these messages from our two days off while also working to accept gracefully all the kindness and generosity being shown to us on this trip — from friends and family as well as from strangers. It’s dawning on me that even though we will reach the Canadian border in three weeks, this trip is part of a larger journey that won’t be ending any time soon.
And all this deep thinking comes after just two cups of coffee today at breakfast, I swear. Oh, and there was a mid-morning latte...
Time to reflect: Visiting the UU church on Upper West Side
We were going the right way — north out of town — this morning as bike and car commuters headed south for town.
June 11, 2018
I stood on the sidewalk outside our hotel this morning and watched the flow of people: Monday morning, back to school and work. Savor this, I reminded myself, because we were just off for a bike ride. No meetings, no agendas, no deadlines.
Well, we actually did have some meetings. First, the treat of breakfast with Lou Rubin, a marketing consultant. He wrote to us because he lives in Manhattan and bikes every day and wanted to ride with us out of the city. We rode on up the Hudson River Greenway, past the George Washington Bridge, and turned East to the Bronx.
We soon met up with Jeff Behm, a member of the Greenway’s New York committee. A retired transportation professional, Jeff often leads tours for the Greenway. Our friend Silvia volunteered Jeff to lead us out of the city, which was brilliant. Jeff kept us on the Greenway except for a few smart shortcuts and such.
Dee, Jeff, Lou and I outside the clubhouse at the Van Cortland Park golf course.
Jeff pointing out how close we are to Route 95
The amazing thing about the morning’s ride was finding ourselves in so many places that we had only seen from a car and the highway, passing through on the way to and from New England. Interstate 95, the Merritt Parkway and more familiar roads were mere feet from us as we rode on a network of greenways.
We had another meeting on our agenda at about 32 miles, after saying goodbye to Lou 10 miles back. At Kneaded Bread in Port Chester, we had two reunions. Dee’s friend Noone, who she met during a year of teaching in Armenia 30 years ago and hadn’t seen in about 10 years, picked the spot to meet near her work. And I got to see Jodi, a friend from Echo Hill Camp on the Chesapeake. We haven’t seen each other since we were 15, but we’ve been in touch a tiny bit on Facebook.
“You look exactly the same!” Jodi greeted me outside the restaurant. It was the kindest thing she could say — it’s been 43 years! And she looks fabulous, a more glamorous version of the friend I remember in alligator shirts and painters pants. (Remember painters pants??)
Noone and Dee, Jodi and Lisa: two quick, fun reunions.
iWe educated Jodi about Greenway signs, a first step to getting her back on her bike after a long hiatus
We crossed into Connecticut unceremoniously a block from our lunch stop. State #11. The rest of our ride to Stamford was easy, another 15 miles of crossing back and forth over I-95 and through small towns. We could smell saltwater, a sweet and familiar smell. That coupled with the cooler air, like a pretty late September day, reinforced our sense of having arrived in New England after all these weeks. It’s Dee’s home region and where I lived in my 20s, so things are starting to feel more familiar.
Transitions abounded again today. We were on a protected, leafy path for a bit and emerged suddenly into a well-to-do neighborhood — welcome to Westchester County. We rode through green, manicured towns like Greenwich and then suddenly hit gritty roads full of potholes.
Thanks again, Jeff and Lou!
We are staying tonight with Jerry Silber, a Greenway volunteer, and his wife, Bracha. (Thank you, Rob Dexter, for connecting us.) Jerry retired four years ago from Citibank. We met him this afternoon as he was beginning to assemble massive shelving from Costco for his garage. Dee and I offered a little supervision of the project as we headed out for dinner. He and Bracha were still working on the shelves when we got back. Ah, home projects! Another fine reminder of how carefree our time is. There will be plenty of time for projects when we get home, no doubt.
Jerry and Bracha, top-shelf hosts
Our bikes enjoying the view today on the Connecticut coast
June 12, 2018
Today’s ride was nothing short of spectacular. We rode 57 miles with a tailwind and dazzling weather: sunny, dry air, temps nearing 70. And we truly hugged the coast, enjoying views of Long Island Sound all the way to New Haven.
“This is not work!” I called out to Dee at one point mid-day. We were sailing along and entertained by charming views and salt air smells. This is bicycle touring at its best, short of greenways — quiet streets and beautiful views and charming towns.
It’s also amazing perspective on a stretch of cities that I’ve only known from driving I-95. Who knew that Bridgeport, gritty from the highway, had so many stretches of beautiful beachfront?! As Dee said, the next time she’s inching along in traffic on I-95 she will know that there are beautiful side roads she can take as an alternative — just pull out her maps.me app and pretend she’s on her bike.
We ended our day with a quick tour of Yale’s campus and a stop for coffee (what else?) at Atticus, the bakery and book shop across from the University. Our host tonight is Sarah Hreha, a member of the Greenway’s board and a randonneur cyclist — meaning she rides extremely long distances. She lives, for a few more weeks until she moves, right on the Greenway in downtown New Haven. We’ve had a fun evening talking bike rides, nonprofits, city living and more.
A great day, simply said.
A mid-day picnic at St. Mary’s by the Sea, a park in southern Bridgeport.
Photos don’t do justice to our views today, but Dee braved stopping on a big hill (I haven’t mastered that skill) to catch this view.
Sarah, our host, getting ready to change her flat tire. Which she does expertly.
Rob with one of the hundreds of Greenway signs he has installed across Connecticut. He’s particularly proud of this one because he came up with a way to hang it on the chain link fence.
June 13, 2018
Our hero today was Rob Dexter, an East Coast Greenway volunteer extraordinaire in Connecticut. Rob left his home in West Hartford at the crack of dawn to meet us on the Farmington Canal Heritage Trail. The trail began within our first mile of leaving Sarah’s house in New Haven, right on the Yale campus, and stretches some 80 miles north to Northampton, Mass., with just a few gaps along the way. It’s a remarkable stretch of greenway with a nearly steady canopy of tree cover and amenities just off the trail in the small towns we passed.
But back to Rob. I met him last fall when he biked a number of long days for the Greenway’s East Coast River Relay. His relay legs were about the only ones with bad weather, yet he always had a smile on his face. A great athlete, he races on skis in the winter and bikes and plays tennis in the summer. He teaches boy scouts to bike and coaches young skiers. On bike tours for the Greenway, he often rides sweep, making sure slower cyclists don’t get lost — or discouraged. And he has singlehandedly installed Greenway directional signs across the state, a painstaking job that we benefitted from as soon as we crossed into Connecticut a few days ago. In short, he’s a good guy.
We were happy for Rob’s cheerful company and his local trail knowledge. That is, until he starting telling us about the hills ahead of us, today and tomorrow. That’s enough of that kind of talk. He’s aware of how much coffee we’ve been drinking on this trip so he led us to a couple rest stops. One of them was a newer store backing up to the Greenway. Rob thought it might be a Dairy Queen, with just a connecting path and bike racks visible. Turns out it was a Cumberland Farms convenience store. You should have seen Dee’s delight! She has “Cumbys” at homein Rhode Island and has their phone app for special deals. And coffee, all sizes, $1!
Happy camper at a brand new Cumberland Farms on the Greenway
All day we dodged rain, amazingly, but we couldn’t avoid a few hills. The Greenway turns east at Simsbury and leaves the Farmington Canal trail. One large hill (“just remember the little engine that could,” Rob told me) took us up, then down into Bloomfield. We rode through the edge of Hartford before turning to ride to Rob’s home in West Hartford, including a quick tour of the downtown, which seems to be thriving.
We had one more big hill to climb to get to Rob’s house. It was worth it when we saw the view from his back deck, part of the home renovation work he and his wife, Claire, took on over the last few years. Looking east, they have a stunning view of the Hartford skyline and a ridge of hills behind it.
And yes, that ridge of hills is where we are headed tomorrow. Slow and steady, like the little engine.
Claire and Rob served dinner with a view on their deck, with the Hartford skyline in the distance
A small stretch of Greenway and (below) the largest tree in Connecticut, a sycamore
Passing the state capitol in Bushnell Park in downtown Hartford with Rob early this morning
June 16, 2018
Well, I guess riding the East Coast Greenway can’t always be fun and games like it has been of late, and like it was for most of today. That’s what I was thinking as we started riding the last 25 or so of our 68 miles today. We were suddenly alone after having riding company — at one point as many as seven of us — since we left Rob’s house with him this morning. People, all of them strong cyclists, had warned us this was going to be a tough day, perhaps the toughest hills of all on the Greenway. Those kinds of warnings can do a number on me, mentally, even building a knot in my stomach.
Sure enough, when we left our last stretch of greenway with our new friend Donna and hit the shoulder of busy Route 6, we started climbing. She turned back home a bit later and we turned on to Old Route 6 and started climbing more. After a sparkling sunny morning, clouds were building and the wind had picked up. Finally, at mile 60, we stopped for a breather at the gates to an old mansion, part of Pomfret Academy. We thought we had 10 more miles to go and the hills must get really bad, because so far they really had only been rolling climbs. Google bike map gave us the good news that we only had seven miles to go, not 10, and we rolled into the little town of Putnam both thinking, that wasn’t so bad.
Years ago, Dee and I did a week’s ride around Lake Champlain and the Adirondacks. We did some serious climbing then. One climb I remember well was ascending a small mountain to get to the town of Lake Placid. Rolling into that town, where flags were flying like they must have been when the Olympics were held there, felt victorious, and transformational. I learned to stop doubting my strength on the bike, because every day and every hill made me stronger. By the end of that week, I knew I could bike up anything (except those stubby little hills that come up too suddenly and make me feel like I will fall over; I have walked up a few of those on this trip).
All of which is to say, today was no Lake Placid, I’m happy to report. And if today’s route had the hardest hills on the Greenway, then Dee and I are golden for these last two weeks of our trip.
Greenway people are the coolest. Dee felt bad for sending her greenway shirt on home early in our trip so she couldn’t be cool like us today: Greenway Ambassadors Barb Amodio, Rob Dexter, and Beverly Duncan with me and Bill O’Neill, an early leader in the East Coast Geeenway’s formation, at a park on the Charter Oak Greenway in Manchester, CT — one of the earliest designated segments of the ECG.
But about the fun and games! Rob gave us a great tour of downtown Hartford along the Greenway on a sparkling early morning, another day that felt like fall, the air bright and dry. We crossed the Connecticut River on a beautiful pedestrian bridge and rode along the river on the East Hartford side on a pretty greenway. We hit the Charter Oak Greenway soon after and met up, at mile 20, with Barbara Amodio and Beverly Duncan.
What fun these two women are. They truly love the Greenway. They met as teachers and started taking adventures together; their bike trips have only increased since their retirement. They have been loyal riders on the Greenway’s Week a Year Tour and they have traveled to attend regional East Coast Greenway Alliance meetings. They travel and ride together so often — now on matching bright orange Surly bikes — that they respond when people call them by the other’s name.
Barb is clear, however, that the Hop River Trail on the Greenway belongs to her, and that it’s the best segment of the whole route. I love the passion and ownership that Greenway volunteers assume about their favorite sections of trail. They monitor its condition, plan rides and other events to get more people out on it, and advocate tirelessly for any missing connectors to extend the route. But I have to say, Barb’s Hop River Trail really is spectacular, with a firm crushed stone surface and towering trees on either side, stone walls and ferns off in the woods. We got a sneak peek (by ignoring the “construction, don’t enter” signs) of a beautiful new entry to the trail that will open this fall, cutting off a major hill on the road through Bolton Notch. Clean living.
Barb shows us her bulletin board at a trailhead on her trail, the Hop River, which truly is a wonderful stretch of greenway.
The Forrest Gump phenomenon was in full effect today. At the start of the Hop River Trail, Don Lomnicky from Willimantic joined our group of five. He has discovered bike riding as he recovers from a bad motorcycle accident. He has lost 60 pounds as he gets ready for hip surgery. He rode with us to Willimantic, telling us that our trip inspires him to try bike touring.
Then, a few miles before Willimantic, Donna Koenig joined us on the trail. Donna lives in Lebanon, CT, and chairs her town’s committee that built and now monitors its seven miles of the Air Line Trail South. She is friends with Rob, Barb, and Bev from past Week a Year tours. She missed last fall’s tour because her husband died suddenly just before the trip. And now she is caring for her mother. That’s a lot to handle in a year, but Donna is a retired phys ed teacher and struck me as strong, inside and out.
A few of our Forrest Gump gang: Barb, Don, and Donna.
Barb and Bev at lunch in Willimantic — in their cool Greenway jerseys, which Dee could be wearing if she hadn’t lightened her panniers load weeks ago.
After a fun lunch in the former post office building in Willimantic, we said goodbye to Bev and Barb. Rob rode on a bit more and then headed home after checking out the blue heron rookery that Donna pointed out for us at the start of the northern Air Line State Park Trail. And Donna rode on with us to the end of that trail, turned onto Route 6 and headed north with us a while before turning back to catch the trail home.
So there we were, suddenly alone after so much fun company, and climbing hills that we believed would just get worse. And we were headed to a roadside motel that our friends kept telling us would be sketchy, from their Week a Year experience. Turns out the place has had a fresh facelift and we are comfortably settled here. So you just never know.
Tomorrow we enter our 12th state, Rhode Island, and Dee’s home in Lincoln. Exciting! Hope we can sleep!
Rainy day on the Trestle Trail headed for Providence
June 15, 2018
Our amazing lucky streak of avoiding rain broke today. We were in and out of light rain from the time we left our motel this morning through the afternoon. Rain makes navigating more challenging because we don’t have covers for our phones. But we have rest stops, of course.
You can almost hear the squeak of our brakes to turn off our route because, Cumberland Farms: a dry place to check our navigation and 99 cent coffee.
In all other respects, however, we are lucky ducks. Of our 58 miles today, more than 25 were on greenways: the Quinebaug River Trail in Connecticut and 19 miles of the Washington Secondary Rail-Trail stretching from Coventry to West Warwick, Warwick and Cranston. It made for easy, pleasant riding despite the cool rain. Of the 15 states along the East Coast Greenway, Rhode Island has the highest percentage of its miles complete — 63 percent. Today we experienced what that feels like: riding for nearly two hours without worrying about traffic or navigation.
Much as we work to stay in the present and savor each day, a sign like this reminds us we are closing in on our destination.
At about 26 miles, feeling cold and wet and hungry, we arrived at the home of M’lyn, a friend of Dee and Sally’s. She lives a mile off the route and just over the Rhode Island line. What an exquisite treat: she handed us towels to dry off, let me throw my wet clothes in her dryer, and invited us to her dining table laden with banana bread, cheddar cornbread, yogurt and fruit, and a big pot of coffee. And fine conversation. We reluctantly pulled ourselves up from her table after an hour and a half. It started raining again a few miles after leaving M’lyn, but we were warmed and well fed.
Our lunch host M’lyn with her friend Jonathan.
Quintessential Rhode Island scene: beautiful old factory seen from the greenway
Our route into Providence took us down Broadway, where Dee was delighted to see Leo of Dash Bicycle, the shop where she bought her Kona Rove for this trip.
Headed into Providence
Coming home! Greeting Sally at the driveway in Lincoln. It’s been almost six weeks since we said goodbye to her in Florida. We’ll enjoy a rest day in Lincoln with Sally before heading out for our last two weeks of riding.
Click the link below to watch an animated map of most of our route today:
Leavjng Providence on the Greenway: Dee, Sabra, Mark, Kristen, Linda and Poyee
June 17, 2018
After a delightful rest day at Sally and Dee’s in Lincoln, Sally sent us off this morning with an amazing spread of food and the company of more than a dozen friends that she welcomed for breakfast.
In fine Forrest Gump fashion, seven of us biked away from Dee and Sally’s house bound for Providence and the start of the East Bay Bike Path.
The day was sparkling, it couldn’t have been more beautiful — the air dry, the sun bright, the smells of flowers and saltwater sweet and strong. The East Bay Bike Path was as stunning as ever — I’ve biked it a few times over the last 25 years or so and if remains a favorite, with pretty views of Narragansett Bay and tidal ponds.
We said goodbye to Sabra and Linda at Warren, where we left the bike path and headed east for Massachusetts (state 13!) and Fall River.
Our picnic in Fall River at mile 25 featured morning glory muffins and other snacks from Sally
The rest of today’s 50 miles were mostly on quiet roads taking us through Westport to South Dartmouth, just west of New Bedford. We are following the Greenway’s complementary route to Boston via Cape Cod. Riding with us the next few days are Mark Neylon, a friend of 35 years from my UMass days, and Poyee Oster, a running and yoga friend of Dee’s.
The four of us are staying at the home of Mary and Peter Kavanaugh. It’s a gorgeous place looking out over the river to the village of Padanaram. Mary is the sister of Joan Fontaine, a friend of Mark’s and mine from college. Mark and I visited the Fontaine house in New Bedford a few times in college and after.
Peter and Mary drove us into New Bedford tonight for dinner, sparking memories from three decades ago that are good for my brain, I’m sure. I love the interconnections: Mary went to Providence College, where Dee taught for decades. And while telling stories over dinner, I realized it was Peter’s connection that helped me land my first job out of college at the US Yacht Racing Union in Newport, RI.
It’s a small world. I’m grateful for all the opportunities I’m having on this trip to connect the dots of my past. Along with all the new friends we’ve made, it’s a heady, rich experience.
Dinner at Moby Dick with Mary and Peter and the view from their backyard (below)
A highlight of our day off yesterday was an 8 am yoga class on the dock at India Point, taught by JoEllen Hockenbrough of Providence Power Yoga. It was yet another beautiful day. More than sixty of us gathered at the river to stretch, breathe, and feel the sunshine on our faces. A few years ago JoEllen led a PPY yoga retreat in Costa Rica that I tagged along on with Dee and Sally, so it was fun to see her again — and my hips and IT bands appreciated her class.
* Our friend Barb Amodio in Connecticut suggested that we skip the day number that comes after 44 in protest of our nation’s current leadership. We thought she made a good point.