Postcard from the Beginning

The conductor took my ticket and asked if I was Desperate or Brave. Brave, I said. Though in reality it was more like bored and restless...

It was pouring rain when my sister dropped me off at South Station to catch the train. It was raining a little less when the train dropped me off at Plymouth. I don’t mind riding in the rain.

Turned on the GPS and cued up Westport. Thought it was going to be around 40 miles. According to the GPS it was more like 50. I started pedalling and followed the pink line on the screen. Passed the bay where the Pilgrims landed. Turned west. Followed the pink line right into a cemetery. Hmmmm. Rode on through the headstones and out the other side. Hmmmm. Not sure that me and the GPS are necessarily going to see eye to eye.

Outside Plymouth the town gives way to pine forests and cranberry bogs. Easy to tell they’re cranberry bogs because they’re cranberry colored. One of them had two turkeys in it. No joke. I started looking around for the guy with the blunderbuss and the buckle on his hat.

There was a lot of wind pushing me along. And a bunch of rain. Even so, it was really pretty countryside. Winding roads, gentle rolling hills.

Of course, as soon as I got to where I was going the rain stopped and the sun came out. I was too tired to enjoy it. But not too tired to enjoy the major dose of pasta and veggies that Julie cooked up.


Click here for the route from Boston to Westport.