Thursday, November 25, 2010
It started out with the idea of a lazy 3 to 4 day bike trip. Naturally, that didn't happen. My first day lead my south through the idyllic rolling hills from Burlington, the metropolis of Vermont, to Middlebury where i stopped for my first break to stretch my legs and take full use of my food stamps at the co-op. With a full stomach I pedaled forth towards the nether regions of Rutland, a place many fear and many don't fear. Either way, it was hotter than a boiling cup of water so I biked along the roaring route 4 as I mentally prepare for my summit of Killington Mountain. Few have dared, less have succeeded and even more have driven it without a thought, and even more have skied it, and maybe a few less have hiked it and then somewhere in between that some never heard of it and then ONE bike it (that's me). With the full force of the sun beating on me, I scaled, summited and conquered the largest mountain east of Rutland along route 4. I freewheeled it into Woodstock to camp behind the firehouse in a bed of pine needles. I love pine needles.
Some call me a god. Some call me other things. I like the god one.