I will take the bus to the commuter rail station, the commuter train into the city, the subway to South Station, and the Silver Line (a Dual-Mode Bus that runs through Subway tunnels on catenary wires) to Logan Airport, where I will take the plane to Chicago and hop on a car with my coadventurers to Wyoming (via Badlands N.P.), for two weeks of backpacking, day-hiking, and hopefully rock climbing.

Reports and photos will be forthcoming.

What’s an even better reason is the remarkable beauty of the Katskill* region. I am stunned by this part of the state every time that I drive through it, and I am even more able to appreciate it on the bus, where I can gaze out the picture windows and not have to worry about driving.

As we cross Beaver Kill** on NYS Route 17, I feel as if I I have been transported to another era–an era when smoke billowed out from the home fireplace early in the morning, when backyards had smokers to preserve the meat that was raised or hunted nearby. The bus driver told me on a previous trip that one of these little kills has some of the best trout fishing in the world, and I feel that something is missing in my life because I have not fished for trout (or anything else).

Perhaps during the summer I will come here one day with my Bar-Bri books, and catch a trout.

*This is not the conventional English spelling; it is the proper dutch spelling