“I was headed to a job over the mountain to save an old rose bed overrun by grass. It was a circuitous journey on some back roads I was curious about, but - a little creeped out by - with names like ‘Devil’s Washbowl’ that set my research brain into motion. You feel things, driving these valleys, with your eye towards the twists, and you can get glimpses of forgotten gates & vast lost tracts, if you pay attention. No internet search will get your ass through secret out-of-doors, no. - This, you’ve got to want. You might expect that I can spend the better part of an evening gazing at the nuances of a topo map, comparing notes with satellite images from Google Earth. It stimulates my expanded consciousness to realize how little we normally see. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy” someone once said. In no place is this more true that Vermont. So as the screws tighten and freedoms we’ve enjoyed give way to draconian rules and corrective brainwashing, don’t forget a few small but important truths. We are still this side of the river. If I wrap my phone in silver coated cloth and bury it in a hole, I might still be able to slip into the woods, unnoticed. Those who were early adopters of blue tooth and 24/7 connectivity to the hive mind, I understand your decision. I love you still, though I see your health is failing. We cried out at new road signs, because it made things too easy. We clung fast to our general stores, until they were bludgeoned into shuttered, empty buildings or made into evangelist churches. We crowded into creaky town halls and rubbed up against each other, because it made us stronger to be exposed to each other. The hugs that surprised us made a lasting impression; we long for them now. On my own in a car, still able to buy gas and drive, I’ve charted my two hour drive to hit one of the few convenience stores still open, where I can exercise my right to pump my coffee into the cardboard cup, and laugh at stupid jokes with the proprietor. I feel whimsical about this freedom and how good it feels. At the top of one of the gaps, I’m giddy with wonder at snow still clinging to the ski mountains, on the eastern side. The Lincoln gap remains closed. They dumped a dirt pile at the bottom this year, to block intrepid four-wheelers still willing to risk it. Playing it safe, well, that’s a thing. My mother used to suggest it, but she didn’t know the half of what i did. just like I didn’t know the half of what my kids did. I heard some stories last night you wouldn’t believe. I’m glad they are still alive.”
