3:57 p.m. - Thursday, Feb. 15, 2007
We walked in the snowmobile tracks because it was easier walking where those noisy machines had compressed the snow. We walked under the high bridge and saw, high on its cement supports, where Those Crazy Kids had somehow climbed down to a ledge about thirty feet from the water's surface — well, actually, climbing down isn't the hard part; how in the hell they climbed back up, is what I want to know — and spray-painted graffiti. Mostly incomprehensible, except for "Gary sucks."
We came out on the other side of the bridge into the biting cold wind. "Let's go back, Martha," I said. She didn't argue.
In summer, all you can do (unless you have a boat and a place to launch it and a way to get it there) is walk on that bridge 40 feet above the water.
It's nice that they're converting these abandoned railroads into bike/walking paths, but, frankly, they're boring. You walk on narrow asphalt in a long straight line, fenced in on both sides. It's probably more fun if you're on a bike.