Youngest was away on a 9-day canoe trip with Boy Scouts. I feel a tangible freedom spending adult time without mind tendrils tuned to possible teenage antics taking place due to absence. Thank you Scouts! Peter and I drove to Chesterfield Gorge with bikes one morning. Peter ferrets out some wonderful Massachusetts spaces that offer grand adventure. A bike trail, or actually, jeep road, sidles the Westfield River through woods and meadow, 6.6 miles.

It’s wonderful being with a kindred spirit. We finished the 6.6 and Peter said, “Stop here or keep going?” Dirt road stretched out as far as we could see. Of course, as soon as we came to the end of the 6.6 I was thinking, “Must ride this out to pavement.” So we did – and then some. Both knew it time to turn around when we reached the Knightville Dam. First major human-made structure, other than iron pipe gates cordoning off the path, we encountered in our sojourn. Our Massachusetts scenic scapes are magnificently diverse. That river valley’s diverse vegetated curves, watery bends and billowy clouds lives deep in my mind’s eye.

Though we missed the gorge’s swimming hole (well – I did – because Peter let me lead) due to my immense concentration on riding at a fast enough speed to avoid bugs hovering in my face – after finishing our ride we did hike back to a place in the river that had a light current and was deep enough to swim in. A bounteous end to a bounteous sojourn.