
In the 60’s, living in the woods of Vermont involved a lot of down time because there was hardly any t.v. reception, and certainly no cell phones. Riding a bicycle was the only way to experience the feeling of freedom, and how much fun you have on that bike is dependent upon how hard packed and smooth the dirt road is. One summer day, David, the neighbor closest to my age stopped by, and we anxiously rode up the road to Cavendish town. It was always a big deal when we got permission to go all the way to town about 2 ½ miles from where we lived. The partial shade of the trees made cool spots along the way. It was a free feeling to weave and change speeds at a whim as we enjoyed the sounds of the tires sliding and rolling along on the dirt. We got to the end of the dirt part of our ride where the railroad crossing marked the spot that the pavement started. Pavement riding was rare. We stopped for a few minutes to talk with a pretty girl who was a classmate of ours, but unfortunately that was the last thing I actually remembered Continue reading

