In Memory

Jeffrey Aldrich

https://www.gilmanandvalade.com/jeffrey-d-aldrich/#



 
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02/22/23 02:23 PM #1    

William Porter

In the summer of '63 Jeff and I stripped down our old bikes--the so-called 3-speed English racers of that era--and converted them to what would now might be called 'mountain bikes'. We loaded them with a week's worth of gear--sleeping bags and ponchos [WWII vintage stuff from our veteran Dads], cooking gear, food and clothes [no tent]-- and headed for the then-wilds of northern Vermont. 

First night out, at a state park in northern Mass, the college-aged lifeguard summering there took pity on us during a T-storm and invited us to stay the night in his Army surplus wall tent. It was perfect; he had his mother's 1930's ice box, a wood stove and army surplus cots...and beer. Rode out the storm in comfort and next morning, stiff and sore from the previous day's ride, thanked him profusely and headed on. 

Toward the border, the road turned to gravel; a real challenge for those narrrow-tired bikes. Several dusty miles and a few flats later, we crossed into Vermont. Spent the night under the sagging porch of an abandoned one-room schoolhouse crammed with thousands of volumes of decaying books. Next morning we headed out and up into increasingly moutainous terrain, though the road was now again paved.

That night, in another pouring rain, we sheltered under an awning, this one part of the bus-waiting area for a modern school, fortunately out for the summer. With concrete under us, but a roof above, and no police drivebys, we spent a dry night and headed out next morning for our destination: a state park atop Haystack Mountain.

We camped there, spreading our ancient ponchos over a picnic table and crawling under at night, dry but mosquito-bitten. For three days we hiked, fished, met girls and had a great time. Then, jobs and the usual stuff, waiting back home, we headed back south. Last night out, we camped on the outskirts, at the edge of a swamp, of my Mother's hometown of Brookfield, Mass;  after, that is, finding a payphone and calling our folks to reassure them of our arrival the following day.

So ended the highlight of that summer of '63 for Jeff and I.

 


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