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.

First bike ride of the season

I learned how to ride a bike at the age of 33.

You read that correctly.

I never learned as a kid, and it never really bothered me, until I learned to swim in my 30s and decided that perhaps it was time I give bike riding a try as well.

In case you are wondering, it is far more difficult to learn to ride a bike as an adult than it is to learn how to swim. There are lessons for beginning swimmers. You can't fall off the pool. You can practice in the shallow end for ages until you are good and ready to head over to deeper waters.

With biking, there are no lessons. You have to find someone who is not only willing to teach you, but who also has a clue how to teach you.

The first person who tried teaching me would just run along side of me holding on to the bike and yelling "pedal pedal pedal!" over and over again, and then get exasperated when I was only able to go about three feet before wobbling over. This person also tried to teach me by having me ride around a parking lot in a circle. 

Here's a tip: don't have beginning bike riders start by going in a circle.

Luckily, my sister offered to teach me, and she actually knew a few things about teaching someone this skill. For example, no circles. She helped me find an empty parking lot that was big enough for me to simply coast on a very slight decline. That way all I had to do was lift up my feet and glide forward, and then put my feet down when I needed to.

When I tried to add pedaling to the mix, I would get wobbly again. My sister quickly figured out the problem. When I tried to pedal, I looked down at the bike. This seemed to make sense to me at the time, though really, it's the worst thing you can do. The bike goes where your eyes go. If you want to go straight ahead, you have to look straight ahead.

Learning these two pieces of the bike riding puzzle were the key for me. After that day, I kept going to that parking lot to coast, and to practice pedaling while looking where I wanted to go. Over time, I learned other things, like how to use my gears. Now I can ride reasonably well, at least well enough to have fun doing it, though I still consider myself a novice. I have to stop the bike to drink water. I'm not comfortable riding and signaling at the same time. And I still can't just hop on a bike and ride away. It always takes me a few fits and starts to get going, just because of nerves.

That's where I found myself a few weeks ago, when I wanted to try bike riding in my new home state. I live in a place with a lot of mountain biking, which I don't do, and not a lot of paved biking trails. Luckily, a coworker knew of one great trail in a state park, so I headed there. It was an hour and a half drive, with me neurotically checking to make sure my bike hadn't fallen off the rack, and I was nervous, both about the new location but also because this was my first ride of the season. The first ride is always a bit nerve-wracking for me.

I found the start of the trail and got underway, after about half a dozen false starts. Then I quickly realized why I was having such a hard time. I picked the side of the trail that goes up the side of a mountain. The slope is not great, but it is steady. So, no. I was not up for a nonstop climb. I turned around and tried the downhill. That was great, until I realized there was only one way back up to the car.

So, I practiced. I went down for a while, then turned around and rode back to the start. Then I went back down a little further, repeat. This was fun and brought me to some great scenery.

I ended up only riding maybe 4 miles that day, but I had a blast discovering a new place to ride (and hike) later in the season. I am also proud of myself for overcoming what was, for me, a lot. A new place, a new type of terrain, the first ride of the season. Every time I push off on those pedals, I am overcoming a fear all over again.

Volunteering

I knew I needed a new activity in my new town, and I wanted that activity to be a volunteer activity. I specifically looked for opportunities at a nature or wildlife center, so that I could have a volunteer experience that is the exact opposite of the desk job that I have. 

I found a place about a 45 minute drive from home, where I could greet visitors and help with the exhibit room in the welcome center, plus assist at the touch tank, handling horseshoe crabs and clams. Perfect!

Today was my first shift. I wasn't sure what to think at first. I was worried I would feel a little bored. Then, I met two volunteers doing some gardening out front. They are a husband and wife team and are recently retired. The wife, Sue, was my new best friend right away and invited me to join the adult kayak tours she leads on the Bay during the summer. Yay!

Inside, I was allowed to be fairly autonomous. I shadowed an experienced volunteer who was just a delightful lady. She's a retired nurse, and has been volunteering there for 20+ years. She was as nice and as welcoming as can be. 

Once guests started coming in, I knew I would really have a good time, because they were just all so friendly, in true New Hampshire style. I can certainly see volunteering once or twice a month for the season and then next spring going back or picking someplace new. 

Getting out of my comfort zone and finding this opportunity really helped me to see a bit more of my new new home state, to put me in a position to learn about the natural areas of my new home state, and hopefully might lead to meeting some more nice people and maybe, one day, making a friend outside of work. 

Repost from IndependentTraveler.com: Trip to Dallas and Houston

I recently submitted a short write-up of my trip to Dallas and Houston to IndependentTraveler.com. Here is the link to the post:

http://www.independenttraveler.com/trip-reviews/combo-trip-to-texas


And here is the full text:

I recently spent a week in Texas, and while I have certainly had more exciting and exotic trips to such far flung places as Australia, Japan, and Iceland, this particular trip reminded me of the importance of taking every opportunity to enjoy travel and connect with others. 

I had a business trip in Houston coming up, and my employer allowed me to combine that with a trip to Dallas the weekend before. The Dallas leg was the family leg. I stayed with my sister and her family to enjoy the weekend, work remotely for a few days, and then take a short flight to Houston for the professional conference.

While in Dallas, we did not do Dallas-y things. Rather, we did family things. I was able to attend my ten-year-old niece's dance recital and we all went out for celebratory sushi afterwards. We had a lazy Sunday reading, cooking on the barbecue, and playing bocce in the backyard, a particular luxury since I was getting reports of snow at home in New England. In Texas, I was wearing shorts. God bless Texas. 

After enjoying some good family time and a little Dallas sun, I tried to make the most of Houston. This was tough, because I still had to work remotely part of the time, I tried to fit in some good conference sessions, and I tried to enjoy at least a little bit of Houston while I was there. I found a great little Italian bistro, discovered how hard it can be to find good restaurant service when dining along (grr) and did manage to visit the local aquarium where I saw, inexplicably, white tigers. I was treated to a beautiful view of the skyline while waiting for my ride back to the hotel.

I realize this may not sound like the most group-breaking vacation in the history of vacations, but the truth is that I loved the time away from the routine and from my otherwise quiet life. I spent time with friends and family, I ate good food, I met some new colleagues, I learned a few things, and I returned home refreshed.