A Second Goodbye; Then Zigzagging Down to Florida

Goodbye to snowy Williamstown

On Saturday I said goodbye to Williamstown again. It felt different this time around. I am ecstatic to be in Florida, but a month down south doesn't quite have the same magnitude as four months in Germany. And everything is just a little bit easier the second time around. This time I had no baggage limit--as long as it all fit in my car. And though I'll be charting unfamiliar territory, I don't have to worry about translating everything I see. It’s an A-to-B trip, a journey with a destination. I know that by the beginning of next week, I need to arrive in New Smyrna Beach, FL--ready to work, but also ready to enjoy the sun and heat in the middle of winter.

My first stop was in Westfield, NJ to visit my close Camp Dudley friend Adam Fraites. His house has often been the site of reunions with my camp buddies, and I always enjoy a weekend living the Jersey lifestyle. I met many of Adam’s Westfield and Pingry friends, ate at places like Chipotle and Bagel Chateau—two dining experiences that don’t exist in Berkshire County, and had the unfortunate privilege of watching my Patriots roll over in the AFC Championship against the Ravens. It was one of the poorest performances from New England that I can remember. I’m spoiled as a Pats fan because I expect a Super Bowl every season, but the reality is that it’s been half of my lifetime since they won a title. And Seattle, my favorite NFC team, failed in a big way last week when they blew a twenty-one point comeback in the last seconds against the Falcons. Thank God hockey is finally back.

But the best part of my time in Westfield was talking about Dudley. If all goes as planned, Adam and I will be leaders this summer at the place we love more than anything. I have a lot planned before then, but no matter what happens in the next segments of my gap year, I have the best job in the world lined up from June to August.

I left New Jersey on Monday morning, but not before stopping at Dick’s Sporting Goods to pick up a new pair of golf shoes. I was hoping my old pair would last through my Florida trip, but when I forgot to pack them, upgrading my golf shoes became a necessity. My old Walter Hagan’s endured four years of rounds and carried me to countless memories. Now I’m excited to have a new pair of Nike’s and to see how many loops they can handle—from Vermont to Florida and beyond.

A dusting of snow in the UPenn freshman quad

The cold spell set in as I drove from New Jersey to Philadelphia. Adam’s dad was out golfing on Sunday morning, and twenty-four hours later it felt like snow was in the air. I met Peter Rogers, another Dudley friend, at UPenn just minutes from the heart of Philly. It was cold when made the (long) walk from my parking space to his quad, but even in the gray January air, the campus still looked majestic. If playing DIII soccer hadn’t been part of my college equation, UPenn would’ve been on my list. (I also would’ve looked at Davidson, and I can’t wait to see the school in a few days. Based on everything I’ve heard, it seems incredible. It’ll be great to see for myself later this week.) Anyway, UPenn really impressed me with its large quads and elaborate academic buildings. Standing at the center of campus, I didn’t feel like I was so close to a major city, but only a few minutes later, the Philadelphia skyline dominated my view.

I wasn’t expecting “Pat’s King of Steaks” quality at the dining hall, but after dinner with a crew of Pete’s pledge brothers, I found myself thinking about the Middlebury food service. Nothing against the mac-n-cheese I had, but I’m glad I’m going to a school with excellent dining options. I loved the Penn dining atmosphere nonetheless, and the best part of the evening was walking outside to find an inch of snow on the ground. And, seeing the reactions of many of Pete’s friends. I know I’ll have classmates next year who have never seen snow, and I can’t wait for the first big storm of the year.

Pat's King of Steaks, with Geno's Steaks in the background--Philly's rival cheesesteak stops

Today I left Philly and let Pete get back to his classes, and though the morning walk to my car was almost unbearably cold, the roads were clear. After crossing back and forth over the upper reaches of the Chesapeake Bay, I entered Delaware and had a straight shot to Lewes (pronounced like Lewis, with two syllables, not one. It’s still a struggle for me, though). Our longtime family friends, the Johnsons, live just minutes from the coast in Lewes, which claims the title of "the first town in the first state." Right now I’m waiting for the boys and Drew to get home from school and sitting with Calvin--a dog who reminds me a lot of Pepper. Outside I can see the windmill turning in the frigid ocean breeze, but no matter the season or temperature, the Lewes shoreline is a beautiful place.