So, Sam, I said, sell me this bike. Oh, you'll like it, he said, it has fat tires and it comes apart in the middle. Comes apart, I said, isn't that dangerous? Oh no, he said, it never does that when you're riding, only when you need to pack it up and take it on an airplane. But you might not want to do that because those TSA kids love to play with bicycle parts. Ok, I said, I'm sold, now where should I ride it. Well, Sam said, I could sell you a bike path, you can set up a toll booth and make a bundle. Which is how I came to be riding along on the Minuteman this afternoon.
I hadn't noticed the Woodman in the little park on Bow Street, Lexington, in some time. He's had a hard time of it this year, not looking so well, but I guess he's not alone in that. His banjo is a mere skeleton of its former self, only plays notes in dog whistle frequencies, so if you hear howling in East Lexington, you'll know what that's about.
The Mile 4.0 Cairn Builders have put up a roadside shrine to Victoria and Albert. I think it's sweet.
The proscenium arch at Arlington's Great Meadow was showing a dress rehearsal of the Autumnal Equinox. I'm sure if I come back tomorrow everyone will have learned their lines.
Several times a week I ride past this little ravine where Mill Brook is sequestered for part of its run, often thinking I'll stop and take a picture. That happens only rarely, and this afternoon became the latest instance of my actually doing so.
Well, Sam was right, it's a nice bike and a nice path. Don't know about that toll booth, though.
rod