Because the rains come hardest in the afternoon, I left Albany at 7:30 in the a of m. Drove near, but not to, the falls that may or may not be the biggest in the U.S. east of Niagara and there is some truth to this. Drove through Troy, just up river from Albany, and the most northerly port on the Hudson, on my way east to the Vermont line. 68 degrees, which felt wonderful, with cloudy skies that held off on the rain, which felt wonderful. On my way through eastern rural New York It occurred to me that I was leaving the home of the person who is in third place on my "People I Have Known the Longest" list and was on my way to the home of the surviving person I have known the longest, my cousin Michael. He is two weeks older nor me. Somewhere there is a picture of us lying side by side, not more than a few weeks old. My sister, by the way, is second on the list.
This jaunt to the east confirmed my opinion that New York roads are often in bad shape. Albany's roads, by the way, are terrible. Still, an enjoyable ride. When I crossed into Vermont, the roads improved a good bit. Entered Vermont near Bennington in the south, headed north and hopped onto a scenic route on Vermont 30. Narrow, twisty, up and down, lots of small towns. Not a route to use if you want to cover ground but a great motorcycle road. I had only 150 miles to cover so I took it. Little signs all along the route saying so and so born here, Ethan Allen did something here. At a spot where there were large white, shiny rocks by the road one sign read "Oldest marble quarry in . . ." and then I was past the sign. 65.9 miles into the ride the sun came out. I rejoiced, and praised The Lord. Thirty seconds after it broke through, it disappeared behind a cloud, a cruel joke, leaving me with nothing but memories and broken dreams.
At one point, distinct vertical tendrils of vapor seemed to connect misty, almost unnaturally green forests and fields with the low clouds. Nearly magical, but no place to stop, and very hard to get on camera anyway. In another place, hundreds of water lilies on either side of the road. Again, no place to stop and they would have been just white dots in the picture.
The sun began to make more frequent appearances. White church steeples appeared springing from green fields to stand against blue skies and white clouds. Dairy cows all over, mostly lying down on the job instead of up and about, eating grass and producing milk. Bet Asian cows wouldn't be lying down. They're probably better at math, too.
Passed through small neat towns one after the other until I crested a hill and looked out across Lake Champlain spread out in the sunlight with New York's cloud covered Adirondack Mountains rising on the far shore. Actually pulled over and stopped to get a picture, but it wasn't safe so I decided against it.
Pulled into Burlington, Vermont's largest city, population under 50,000. Drove from the south to the north part of town and found Mike's condo. Mike was out finishing up a few errands, but Mike's delightful wife, Chez, greeted me and made me feel immediately at home. Their condo is on the top floor with deck views of nearby Lake Champlain only partially obscured by large trees.
When Mike got home, we talked a bit, then drove about seeing some sights. The area is gorgeous. Stopped in a grocery store and bought two 2 1/2 pound lobsters. It was girl's night out for Chez, so Mike and I had one each for dinner. Mike is a fine cook and also has an excellent wine collection. Finished the evening off by introducing Mike to "The Big Bang Theory."
Mike is my father's sister's oldest. They lived in central Massachusetts. We used to visit between duty assignments and when we were stationed at various Air Force bases in the northeast like Rome and Syracuse, New York. If memory serves, we even went to school together for a short time in Northboro, Mass, when I was finishing up 6th grade between Air Force bases. Or it may have just been part of the summer. I'll ask him, but remember, he's even older than me, so whom to trust?
....
He didn't remember. Good night.
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