Rail trail ride

I'm so excited to have finally found a great paved rail trail for biking! I've been looking for a while, but everything around here is either geared toward mountain biking or the paths are ridiculously short (1.2 miles? Why bother?).

There is 12ish mile trail that is flat, paved, shaded, and only 25 minutes away from me. Score!

I got there around 9:30 this morning. The weathered perfect. The trail was busy but not overcrowded. The other cyclists are polite, always signaling before passing, unlike the trail I used to ride at home.

I rode 9 miles out and then the 9 back and it took me about two hours or so. I went through a little town with an ice cream shop that I'll try on future visits. I saw two garter snakes and one big fat toad. I saw a man on one of these: 

And someone in one of these:

I saw a roller blader, who made me nostalgic because I gave away my in line skates when I moved, having not used them for years. Of course, now I have the perfect place to skate. Alas. 

I also saw a man with a little dog sticking his head out of the guy's saddle bag.

And did you know they making training wheels for full size bikes? I saw that, too. 

I look forward to many more bike outings on this trail! 

"It all begins with a unicorn..."

I spent yesterday (Saturday) putzing around the apartment. It was a lovely, quiet day, but for the other half of my weekend, I needed an outing. I didn't feel like doing something that would be a big production and require a lot of planning and time on the road. It didn't take long for me to settle on picking a brewery to visit.

I was originally looking forward to moving to New Hampshire because of the wine trail. Then, I moved here and discovered that New Hampshire makes terrible wine.

Sorry, New Hampshire. But it's true.

Beer, on the other hand, New Hampshire does really well. I picked a brewery out towards the seacoast that was within an hour's drive, and set off on my way.

Smuttynose Brewery was the right choice. The location is perfect - rather than tucked away in an industrial park, like most breweries, Smuttynose is a destination in and of itself. There is a disc golf course on site, corn hole, picnic tables set up so you can enjoy a beer out on the lawn. They even have hops growing as part of the landscaping.

"Do any of you home brew? No?
Great, then I can tell you anything.
Beer making starts with unicorns..."

The tour was free, though the tasting was $4. A nice touch were the donation boxes where you could choose a local charity to support (the local humane society, or CASA). There was no hard sell on these; donations were truly optional.

My tour guide was Matt, who really loves beer. He was friendly and personable, and really offered us a lot of his time. This is the rare brewery where I liked every sample. Usually there is at least one beer that doesn't do it for me, but I liked all four that I tried today.

Mostly, I liked the ambiance. Beer people are good people.

This barn pre-dates the Civil War
and was made without nails. Just part
of the ambiance at Smuttynose.

As I was enjoying my samples, I asked what was nearby, in terms of places to wander. It turns out I was in a beach town! I drove a few miles east and voila - the beach. And not the beach the way Maine does the beach, where there are some rocky cliffs, the ocean, and weather so cold there's no point going anywhere near the ocean. This was the bonafide beach. There were people frolicking in the surf, fried foods to be had, tacky t-shirt shops galore, people wearing inappropriate swimwear. I was in heaven.

I wanted the beach experience, and I found out - only an hour
away from home! I took a lovely walk with my feet in the surf, and then walked back to the car by way of the tacky t-shirt shops, and was distracted by the call of a seafood shack. I haven't eaten fried food in so long I don't remember when I last ate fried food, but today, I ate clam strips that were so fresh I'm pretty sure they
were harvested this morning. I ate those clam strips while sitting in a plastic chair, listening to reggae music, watching the surf crash into the beach, and breathing in the ocean air.

I do love the beach.

Shoes, Glorious Shoes

Outside of the store

A good friend has been telling me about Fluevog shoes for years. John Fluevog is a designer with boutique, upscale shops in key cities around the country. Luckily for me, there is a shop in Boston, so a few weeks ago, I used that as an excuse for a little day trip.

I have wanted to get to know Boston, but with a city that big, I don't just "go to Boston" on any given day. I need to learn my way around, and it helps to have a destination each time.

I decided to drive in, rather than take the T, because a coworker had mentioned that street parking is free on Sundays.

So many glorious shoes. 

Of course, this was a Sunday in June, when the weather was perfect. Parking may have been free, but everyone else had already gotten the available spaces. I drove around for a while, resigned to the fact that I would have to pay to park in a lot, when I actually got very lucky and discovered that Northeastern University rents out spaces in their garage for eight bucks as a flat rate all weekend, every weekend. The garage was only a mile or so walk to Newbury Street, which is where Fluevog plus other high end shops were located. Perfect!

Can't wait for these to go on sale. 

I found my way to the store, and walked in a little nervously. I knew that the shoes were high end (expensive) and on the more artistic side. Frankly, I didn't think I was funky enough to belong in there, and expected to feel super uncomfortable and leave empty-handed.

Ha! Not so. This is more than a shoe store; Fluevog is a business with its own culture. I don't know how they train the staff, but the two saleswomen on the floor that day were like my new best friends. One of them,  Zoe, essentially assigned herself to me, and after we talked about the shoes I had seen online and was interested in trying, she started bringing out the shoes. So many shoes. So many very beautiful shoes.

Just so pretty. 

I usually avoid wearing heels because I can only get about an hour in them before my feet hurt, but I feel like I could walk forever in these shoes. There is something special in how the shoes are made that makes them actually walkable.

I scored a coveted area
code button.

I spent some time trying on shoes, walking around the store, and chatting with other customers. As other people came in, we all started talking like one big family. Everyone was friendly and it was the most fun I have ever had trying on shoes.

At one point, a man came in to thank the staff for the water bowl they left outside for dogs, and the staff lady said that next time he should feel free to bring the dog into the store. Fifteen minutes later, he did just that! He came back with his bulldog to say hello and thank you again. Suddenly, all shoe stopping ceased while we all fawned over the dog.

Seriously, when does this kind of thing happen!? At Fluevog, apparently all the time.

I had a hard time deciding between two pairs of shoes, but finally made a decision to buy the more practical of the two. I love the shoes, but I regretted not buying the pair that I thought was more fun but less practical. Today, I got an email alert that the fun shoes are on sale, so I placed an order. Everybody wins!

"Is this really happening?"

That's what I thought to myself yesterday, when I sat in my car at a stoplight and the creep two cars up got out of his car - again - to stand in the street and yell at me.

Let me back up.

I moved to New Hampshire a few months ago, and met with a realtor who is sending me listings. I don't think I'm ready to buy anything just yet, but seeing what is available helps me get to know the various areas, so that when I am ready, I'll feel more confident in what, and where, I decide to buy.

She sent me one listing for a condo in a part of Manchester with which I am not familiar, but that is far enough from the depressed and creepy central part of town that I thought it was worth driving by to check out the area.

After work, I headed that way. Some overly tattooed creep in a beat up white car cut me off as I tried to make a left turn at a light, forcing me to follow him much too closely to also make it through the light or risk getting hit by traffic. Then his line of traffic stopped, and I was stuck - it's hard to explain, but I found myself right next to him, kind of crowding him, facing the oncoming lane (that, thankfully, didn't have any cars coming), waiting for the cars in his lane to pull forward so I could get in the lane properly.

In short, his jerk move caused me to be in a dangerous situation twice within the span of about thirty seconds.

But, whatever, no one got hurt, let's all move on, right?

Not for this guy. He was gesturing and giving me the finger for a solid mile as we headed up the road. Then, at a stop light, he got out of the car and stood there in the middle of the street, gesturing, giving me the finger, and yelling and pointing at me. The light changed, so he got back in and kept driving.

A woman in an SUV pulled in front of me out of a gas station and I thought that perhaps that would cut off his line of sight from me and he might calm down.

Nope. At the next light, the jerk got out of his car *again* and this time charged right for me. He was not going to stop. I sat there thinking, "Is this really happening?" And, wondering at what point I had to accept that he really was coming to the car, because if I waited a second too long, he would be between me and escape (because to pull to the right meant going into a parking lot where I would be a sitting duck. My only way out was to pull left, towards him, before he got too close).

Thankfully, the light turned again, and my guardian angel in the SUV said something to him that got his attention so he noticed the light had changed and jumped back in his car. I pulled an illegal U-turn and floored it out of there.

I got back to my affluent bedroom community quickly, still shaking. I had planned to go grocery shopping, but I really needed to just go home and lock the door.

I emailed my realtor and told her that between that and the way I had been harassed most days walking through downtown to and from my old parking space, I had had enough with downtown Manchester and to please not send me any more listings for that area.

I include this in my travel blog because this experience again drives him the importance of place. One thing I have learned as an adult is that cheaper is not always better, especially where real estate is concerned. It is far better to have a neighborhood, community, or environment in which you feel safe than it is to have an affordable condo with an updated kitchen and hardwood floors. There is no way I could drive that route home as my daily commute, dealing with guys like that creep, driving by all of the rundown Victorian mansions that used to be beautiful (I would assume) but now are overcrowded tenement apartments.

A sense of place is crucial for comfort and peace of mind. I am thankful that I was not hurt yesterday, and that I made it home safely, thankful also for the good friend who comforted me via text message once I was home. I sit now and type this on my balcony that overlooks a small parking lot in my apartment complex, but it also overlooks a tree, and some nice landscaping. I met one of my neighbors today, not well enough to properly introduce ourselves, but well enough to chat about the weather and for us to each see that the other was a pleasant person.

I inhale the fresh air, and know that home must always be where I feel the most safe.