you can bike around the north pond if you don’t mind highway traffic, pulp and tanker trucks, distracted drivers; hills potholes, curves in the back roads. here’s the bridge we’ve been traversing on bikes since moving here 34 years ago.
The day this was taken a member of the pond community stopped us on our bikes to say they were finally going to replace this bridge! We came back the next day to find–Some sons of the camps did this with their fraternity brothers.
Spring in Maine is mud. We don’t call it spring, but mud season. It is mud and road surface load limits written in bright orange; it is frost heaves and more mud. There is mud, congealed or stiff, in ridges and ruts at the local airport. The light planes, clearly things of the air, can hardly negotiate the rugged unpaved ramp.
I pulled out in the Subaru, driving slowly past the yard next-door where the otherwise unemployed fishermen—laid off from the ski resort—were planting shrubs for their landlord in partial exchange for rent. There was a bit of yardwork and clean-up to be done after winter and, as I passed, the tall one displayed a large fish head. Grinning at me, he dropped it into the hole he had just dug for a flowering shrub.
Here’s Johnny’s Bridge all over again, images taken on the morning’s bike ride. They’ve been replacing the bridge over the past two weeks, and aren’t done yet. I think I told you about the history of Johnny’s Bridge and how it brought us together with the local historian? After I asked around on how it got that name, Bob, of Bob’s corner Store and Texaco fame, directed us to the man who has been the community bridge to its own history.
Yes, am continuing to re-read We Took to the Woods by Louise Dickinson Rich. It’s still propped up on the kitchen table. I’m not sure I want the book to end… just yet anyway. I’d like to quote her on her experience with “B Pond,” because it shows that facet of this book which I may not have well expressed in the earlier post. I’ve never seen B. Pond. I’d like to–ever since first seeing that name on the map. Rich experiences enchanted days, her reward for persisting in this enchanted visit to B Pond, year after year. She loves this pond. And I can identify with that in my own Maine experience.