It's Time to Move On

It's cliche to say that all good things must come to an end. I have a hard time looking back over the past ten months of my adventures and writing them off as simply "coming to an end." And though this will be my final blog post on this blog, this journal celebrating the trials and tribulations of my gap year, I cannot close with a sorrowful tone. Yes, the school year is over (congratulations to all of my friends who graduated last weekend), and yes, I am home from the third planned phase of my year off, but as I've raced around Williamstown the past week or so attempting to prepare for what lies ahead, I've experienced no feelings of letdown. My gap year may be over based on the calendar, but I don't feel as if anything has ended--I only feel more ready to move on to the next chapter.

Back home on Lake Champlain

Today, in a few hours, I will report to 126 Camp Dudley Road. I will walk through the main gates, give big hugs that say "I've missed you," and meander down to Williams Cabin, my home for Summer 2013. We'll all be busy. This stellar crew of leaders and staff gracing the Dudley campus today has ten days to prepare for the start of camp. I know we'll be ready when the campers arrive next Tuesday.

There will be time for reminiscing--time to collect all of our individual stories from the offseason and pool them together in joy of reconvened friendship. But sooner than I care to realize, my tales of adventure from my gap year will have to settle themselves in a small corner of my cabin. They will always be there for when I need them, but for now, they'll have to take a backseat to the new memories we'll create this summer. I do know, however, that I have a better place than a dark corner to keep my stories--I have this blog. 

And that's the cool part. How cool it's been that I got to live in Germany, tuning my soccer skills as I tuned my ears to the rough vernacular of a beautiful people. How cool it's been that I was able to visit Dudley friends at college campuses all over the east coast, rekindling the Dudley spirit far from the campus here on Lake Champlain. How cool it's been that I got to spend sunny spring days outside on the golf course--and get paid to do so! And how cool it's been that I woke up every morning and asked myself, "What do I want to do today?" 

Every day I think back to some segment of my year and remember something new. I've discovered so much for myself that as I look back, remembering forgotten instances is almost like seeing them for the first time. I'm always filled with excitement when I think about my adventures. I just attempted to sum up my year in four sentences, but I'm not concerned whether or not I hit on all of the right points. The coolest thing for me is knowing that in this blog, I have an encyclopedia of memories. Who knows what will come of these stories or what my gap year experiences will lead to, but I know that this year has changed me for the better. 

It's been exactly ten months since I boarded my plane to Germany. Start to finish, this year has been a little bit surreal for me. I was able to set off on my own and find success wherever I went. But I was never really alone. Before I say goodbye, I have to thank everyone who has helped my this year. Thank you to my wonderful hosts, the Jusdons and the Scobles, who in very different ways helped my to grow up. Thank you to my friends, new and old, who opened up their doors for a night so that I could stop and see somewhere new before continuing on my journey. Thank you to my grandparents, Mommom and Babo and Mimi and Papa, for providing so much love and support, and always caring whether I was thousands of miles away or staying with them for a week. And thank you to my family. Thank you for all of the emails, phone calls, bits of advice, and words of wisdom as I set off into the unknown, promising to return safely. Thank you for trusting me, and thank you for knowing that my favorite place will always be at home with the five of us together. I love you all. 

A Memorial Day To Remember

As a dedicated soccer player, Memorial Day weekend always meant one thing to me: the Needham Soccer Tournament. Every year, I've made the trip east with my club, Berkshire Ajax, for lots of soccer, guaranteed stops at Boloco, and cookouts at the home of Kerry and Lou Collins. We've gotten to know the Collins family well through the Foehls, and as the years have gone by, the size of the cookout has only increased. 

When I was home for Dylan's book party, I found myself lamenting that this year would be the first time in a long while that I would miss out on the Memorial Day festivities. I returned to Hamden praying for the off chance that some part of my long weekend would open up. Sure enough, I found my Sunday evening restaurant shift switched to Saturday, and with the fifty degree weather, we had no need for caddies at the country club. I went to be Saturday night with no commitments for the next day, except a drive to Wellesley to enjoy my day off the way I had hoped. 

Well, not only did I make it to Wellesley, but I also found myself with front row seats for a slightly more meaningful sporting event than a U12 soccer game. Let me explain. 

I arrived in plenty of time to see Toby Foehl's 11:30 match, coached by my dad and Brooks Foehl. With my brother Sam and the rest of the Foehl boys in attendance, we watched the Willamstown squad beat up on its competition. As soon as the final whistle blew, the eight of us piled in the van. Soon, we were on the Mass Pike heading east towards downtown Boston. We listened to the Red Sox pre-game show on the radio, and as we jumped out of the car, the first pitch was about to be thrown. 

I remember Red Sox games when I was younger where my dad and I bought cheap bleacher or standing-room-only seats and then moved closer and closer as the game went along. It was always my favorite way to watch the game, because jumping around from seat to seat was a game in itself. Well, that was our plan, except we had a crew of eight plus Nick Fogel, who saved us a spot in the SRO ticket line. 

Our plan was set; though our execution was spotty, if you consider that we had everyone inside the ballpark with a ticket by the bottom of the second inning, then we did just about as well as we could've hoped. Soon our conglomerate was broken up into twos and threes, but we all managed to find free seats on the first base side of park somewhere near Sections 16 and 17. For $20, it wasn't a bad deal.

First it was this...

Though the Sox were putting on a lackluster performance at best, and though various members of our crew were forced to relocate from time to time, we all seemed to be enjoying the chilly Sunday afternoon game to its fullest. That was, until I discovered that two of my Greylock classmates--Eric Leitch and Alex Majetich--were also in the ballpark, sitting below us in the first row. I told Eric to turn around and look at us, and after successfully making the connection, Eric sent me a message that would drastically change my viewing experience. He told me there were two free seats next to him in the front row that hadn't been occupied yet. It was the fifth inning. I was willing to take the risk. So, between innings, Jake Foehl and I pulled some stealth moves to sneak by the ticket-checkers, and just like that, we were in the first row. As we gawked at how close we were to the field and fiddled with the TV fixed on the facade in front of us, the Indians tacked on another run to make it 4-1. It was cool to be just yards from the Sox players as they took practice swings, but it wasn't so cool when they proceeded to ground out weakly to second. 

And then this. Not bad, considering I had a $20 standing-room-only ticket in my pocket.

Soon it was the ninth. The thrill of being in the front row (and making appearances on TV from time to time) hadn't worn off, but our time was running out. It was 5-2, and the Sox were three outs away from falling to Terry's new team. Then Pedroia walked. Papi blasted one over the center fielder's head. Soon we were only down by one run. Then again, there were two outs. It was the end of the batting order--newer members of the Red Sox like Johnny Gomes, Stephen Drew, and Jose Iglesias--that got the two out rally going. Don't forget, I'm still sitting in the first row. Standing and cheering is the better description, because the bases were now loaded for Jacobe Ellsbury. 

I'm surprised the camera was able to capture me at a moment when I wasn't cheering.

Moments later, Ellsbury took a fastball out to centerfield that hit the Monster on the bounce. Fenway went berserk. Two runs scored with ease, and the Sox walked off with the win. I don't make it to Fenway often, so watching a walk-off ninth inning from the front row was one of the most exhilarating things I've witnessed at a live sporting event.  We gathered our crew together as the fans finally began to exit the stadium. We were lucky to get into the park, lucky to find decent seats, and lucky to celebrate a come-from-behind Red Sox victory. 

It was a phenomenal afternoon at the ballpark. Back in Wellesley, our cookout at the Collins's was bigger and better than ever, complete with Corn Hole and Kan-Jam in the yard and a big fire that was the perfect thing for the chilly evening. Around that fire, sitting next to old friends and others I'd just met, it was the perfect time to share stories and reminisce. I've gotten good at telling my Germany story, but with all of my other adventures since the new year, I have even more to share. And I can compare my discoveries, too. Like girls in Germany versus girls in the South (I think we all know which ones I prefer). It was great to see the Collins's and participate in another eventful Memorial Day weekend, even though I wasn't out on the soccer pitch. I know this one will be hard to forget.

I can't fail to mention my lunch the next day. We always make a point to hit Bolocco--that's been a tradition for years--but we've discovered another favorite spot: Pinkberry. Frozen yogurt is the new ice cream, and Pinkberry does FroYo right. If only we could get one in Williamstown...

Hosting Family and Friends in Hamden

A slew of visitors making the trek south from Berkshire County (and Grafton, NY) hit Hamden last weekend--all excited to see what I’ve been doing this spring and all eager for some fun on the golf course, at the restaurant, and at the Scoble residence.

The Annual Golf Outing

First my family arrived, as well as my grandparents, Mimi and Papa. Among other things, Saturday was our third annual Scoble/Dils Family Golf Outing at New Haven. Two years ago, my dad, grandfather, and I joined Uncle Harry and Uncle Blair for the inaugural outing, and last year we reassembled the crew on the day before I left for Germany for a fun-filled sendoff. This time around, I was psyched to welcome my brother Sam into the group for his first round at the club. While the girls went out shopping, we grabbed lunch and proceeded to the first tee for our afternoon round.

I’ve had the privilege of caddying for some neat people at New Haven this spring, and I especially enjoy touring the course for first-timers. There’s been nothing more pleasurable, however, than showing Sam around as my playing partner for our match. He controlled his draw well, and made plenty of fives-for-threes. He even dropped a twenty-foot putt for par on the thirteenth—one of the hardest holes on the course. Though I struggled on the back nine, it was still one of the most enjoyable rounds I’ve ever had.

Family Time

What's better than a round of golf with family and friends? A round of golf followed by a cookout, with even more family and friends. We arrived home to find the girls back from their afternoon of shopping and a very exited Oscar (the family beagle)--drooling from the smell of chicken kabobs on the grill. It's not often that we have big gatherings in Hamden, but when we do, we always have a ton of fun. I was glad that we weren't shouting our conversations over the noise of the restaurant. Relaxing at home is hard to beat. 

Everyone had to return home on Sunday, but we were able to make a short trip into New Haven first for some breakfast, a bit of browsing at the Yale Bookstore, and a quick stop at one of my favorite places downtown: Elm City Market. It’s one of those awesome co-op grocery stores where everything is just a little nicer than a typical Stop&Shop. We all like New Haven, and we definitely make the most of our visits.

*  *  *

Sunday evening was the busiest I’ve ever seen Park Central Tavern. Because of the Yale and Quinnipiac graduations, every seat in the restaurant was booked, and of course, everyone arrived in the span of about half-an-hour. Though our head chefs Tom and Nat yelled nonstop for two hours, we successfully catered to the nearly 150 people without any catastrophes. 

A Visit From Hank

I remember what it was like to be a senior at Mt. Greylock--how it seemed that as the spring raced onwards, there were more and more excuses not to be in class. Well, I provided my best friend Hank Barrett with another excuse this past Monday. After his senior class decided to sleep over at the high school on Sunday night, Hank used the skip day to visit me. We met up at the Yale Golf Course with two of my restaurant coworkers. Over the course of the next four hours, there were plenty of good shots and bad shots, a few swear words, lots of laughs, and one memorable round of golf. I experienced the obligatory three-putt from the bottom of the six-foot swale on the ninth green, but I did manage to roll in an eighty-five foot birdie putt on the thirteenth hole. I'm glad I got to show the Yale course to Hank, because it's as unique as you'll see in New England. 

After the round, I showed Hank many other pieces of my life here in Hamden. We toured the New Haven Country Club but didn't get to play because the course was closed. Fortunately, Hank won't be far away while at Wesleyan, so I'm sure we'll be able to get out on New Haven together soon. We stopped by State St. to see the eagles' nest, and even witnessed the mama eagle feeding her baby. And we sat outside on the patio at Park Central Tavern for a well-deserved dinner. 

My favorite moment of the visit, however, was watching the sunset on top of East Rock Park. There isn't much better than looking out over the city of New Haven and the hills and forests of Connecticut as the sun descends out of sight, and sharing this with an incredible friend is something I'll remember for a long time. Seeing Hank made me happy. For one day, I could forget about everything I have to do before the summer arrives and just appreciate the things that have made Hamden my home this spring. 

Lastly, I need to wish Hank a happy eighteenth birthday. Our friendship goes all the way back to Little Red Preschool when I first moved to Williamstown, and it's been only great memories since then. I remember hours of 1-on-1 hoops in my basement, Rookie League baseball on Water Street Grill, birthday parties ranging from skiing at Brodie Mountain to court-side seats at a Celtics game, and shenanigans in Mr. C's sixth grade classroom. In middle and high school we became golf partners--often competing over eighteen or more holes at Waubeeka, where we both ended up working. And I'm so glad I chose to stick with basketball, if only to spend time with Hank. There were countless postgame hottub sessions at the Barrett household, and more often than not I ended up sleeping over. Their guest room is more fondly known as "Tommy's Room." Now we're both heading off to college, at different schools, but both in the NESCAC. I'm playing at Wesleyan on October 26th, and I know Hank will be there to watch. So after all that, enjoy being eighteen and enjoy these last few weeks of being a Mountie. I'll be home to see you graduate.

Getting Psyched For Dudley: A Day With Stich

Today is a Wednesday; grey skies here in Hamden are far from threatening but are just cool enough for second thoughts about only wearing a t-shirt. After a long Mother's Day weekend and plenty of hours logged at the restaurant, I've found this cozy day off to be a pleasant change of pace. Yesterday was exhausting, but for all the good reasons. It was a day I won't forget--a highlight of my time here in Connecticut. 

I rose early to watch the first rays of sun light fire in the clear morning sky. Donning my newly acquired New Haven CC shirt and Nike golf shoes, I set off from Fernwood Road--first a quick detour to Dunkin Donuts for a bagel and an iced coffee (always iced, no matter what time of year), and then onto the crowded Wilbur Cross parkway heading west. I was glad I got an early start, because despite the crawling traffic in Fairfield County, I found myself in Easton, CT with time to spare. There was no reason to be late for what lay ahead. I was meeting Rollie Stichweh, or "Stich," as we know him in the Storey family. Stich is one of my grandfather's closest pals, and their friendship dates all the way back to the summers they spent together as boys at Camp Dudley. My grandfather went to Williams to play soccer and basketball, and Stich became the quarterback at Army, competing against Navy's Roger Staubach. They have both done a tremendous amount for Dudley. As a Storey grandchild, I know that I'll be keeping an eye out for Stich's grandkids at camp this summer. 

I had no trouble finding the Stichweh's home in Easton, and I had the privilege of touring their beautiful place before we set off for our day of golf. Stich is a member at the Connecticut Golf Club, about which I'd heard plenty of good things. The club is slightly more exclusive than New Haven, for example, so with fewer rounds being played, the course is always in excellent condition. Stich made sure to explain how the the club was founded by the same man who helped to fund the Empire State Building. It began as a place for gentlemen to play golf, and remains true to this goal today. I noticed no frills, as it seemed all efforts went into maintaining a top-of-the-line golf course. 

Looking across the pond to the par-three eighth green carved out of the hillside 

As you can see from the photo, the course was constructed on a far from flat piece of property. I can only recall three holes without severe elevation change, and even those had fairways that tilted steeply from one side to the other. Every par three featured a downhill tee shot, with the fifth and tenth holes spilling over cliffs to reach the greens. There's something to be said for elevated tee boxes, for they certainly create exceptional views of the holes. And like Yale, as well as some of my other favorite golf courses, for most of the round there's not a house, telephone pole, or car in sight--just pure golf. Though it might not be my favorite layout ever, it was one of the best conditioned courses I've played, and for sheer fun value, playing the Connecticut Golf Club with Stich is hard to beat. 

While we were eating turkey club sandwiches and clam chowder in the clubhouse (one of the best chowders I've ever had, by the way), a member walked up to Stich to say hello and noticed the Camp Dudley logo on Stich's jacket. The member said his wife was looking into summer camp options for their eight and ten-year-old boys, and that Dudley had come up. Little did he know that he was talking to a former Camp Director and a current camp counselor who just happens to be the nephew of the Director. He was able to score a five-minute conversation about the joys of a summer at Dudley, and we also convinced him that visiting Westport while camp is in session is the best way to get a feel for the Dudley atmosphere.  

My crew from last summer out hiking in the Adirondacks

As I talked about camp, I realized that this summer can't come soon enough. I'm loving this spring in Hamden, but it's been nine months since I gave final goodbye hugs to my Dudley friends to embark on the greatest adventure of my life. I can't imagine myself now without everything I've learned and experienced in these nine months, but with only one month to go until I report to Westport, I absolutely cannot wait to be back at camp. 

What I've come to understand, however, is that every time I connect with a Dudleyite--from buddies over in Germany to longtime family friends like Stich--I keep camp alive. Right now, no campers are bunking in the cabins on the shore of Lake Champlain, but Dudley is alive all over the world. I was so fortunate to share this for a day with Stich, and hopefully we've found a new family to join the Dudley tradition. Thank you to Stich, I had a blast, and I hope to see you up in Westport this summer!

An Interview In Springfield & Dinner with Mom and Dad

Monday was an eventful day, even though it was a day off from work. I'd just finished caddying forty-five holes in two days as well as a busy Sunday night at Park Central. Though I didn't have any work commitments  I had a much more important appointment to prepare for. 

Last year I applied for the Valley Press Memorial Scholarship, but because I decided to take a gap year, I was told to wait a year and apply again when I was closer to my freshman year at Middlebury. I'm glad they made me wait. Though I resubmitted last year's application, I was able to update it with several more examples of my journalistic work in the form of blog posts. If I were on the scholarship committee, my ears would certainly perk up when I started reading about European travels, and for this reason, I'm glad I got to share my favorite blog posts with the committee. 

Apparently they were interested. I was invited as a "finalist" to interview in Springfield on Monday. Despite some car troubles, I made it to the Mercy Medical Center with time to spare. Before I could even sit down, I heard several comments from the committee of five women along the lines of "We can't wait to hear about your gap year!" I recognized that I've been talking and writing about my gap year for months now, and that the interview would be no different. When I was asked to say a little bit about myself, I was able to start with then end of my senior year of high school and go from there. I feel like the story of my gap year alone gives me a leg up on the typical contestant who goes to such-and-such high school, is the editor of his or her school newspaper, and will be graduating in a few weeks. At the very least, my story is fun. As I talked, I was able to tell stories. And at its core, that's what journalism is all about. I find out in two weeks or so whether I am selected as a scholarship recipient, but leaving the interview, I couldn't have felt better about my chances.

Though I needed no cheering up, stepping out of the meeting room to find my parents waiting put an even bigger smile on my face. We had agreed to meet for dinner, and they arrived just as I was finishing my interview. Even though they didn't have to cross any state borders, it was still a significantly longer drive from Williamstown than it was from Hamden. Soon we found ourselves out in the warm sun of downtown Springfield. It was nice enough to spend the rest of the evening outdoors, but Springfield isn't exactly the place for that. Fortunately, my dad had scoped out a nearby dinner spot--Theodore's BBQ. It was a restaurant with plenty of character, and as I began to read through my dinner options, I was glad to see a completely different lineup than what we offer at Park Central.

I've gone away three times this year; leaving has certainly become easier, but seeing family after a long stretch of separation has remained special each time we join together again. Of course, my parents meeting me for dinner in Springfield isn't quite the same as when they arrived in Germany for a week of adventures, but I appreciate any spending time with them--any time, any place. Dinner was fun. I shared thorough details about jobs at the restaurant and golf course and listened to stories from Williamstown, especially what it's been like welcoming Cindy into the Dils household. My favorite dish of the evening was the jalapeño corn fritter appetizer; my favorite moment was when my mom pulled a hard copy of the photo-book I'd created about my time in Germany with the Judsons. Earlier that day I'd sent a happy birthday email to Sebastian, who is now eight years old. I know that all of the Judson kids have grown so much since I left, but for now, I can only remember them as the nine, seven, four, and three-year-olds on the cover of the book.

The days are noticeably longer now, and as I drove back to Hamden in the setting sun, I realized how close I am to the end of my adventures. I'm so incredibly excited to return to Camp Dudley, but summers on the shore of Lake Champlain are something that I've known my entire life. This year, however, has been new to me, and because I've tried so many different things, it's remained new through to the end. It's only a week-and-a-half until I see my family again, this time with Sam and Miranda along for the ride, as everyone will visit Hamden next weekend. And after that, it's only another two weeks until I'm home for good--well, at least home long enough to pack up for Dudley and Middlebury. I think I'll have time for a few rounds at Taconic, too. 

A Few Quick Updates

Golf at Yale, A Visit From Mommom & Babo, and Caddying 45 Holes

It's been a good week. Despite a lot of work, there have been more than enough fun moments to keep me going. We're closing in on two straight weeks of blue skies and warm afternoons here in Hamden, and I can't remember a more glorious stretch of spring weather. I'm fortunate that many of my working hours are spent outside at the golf club, and as I tell the members when they ask how I'm doing that it's impossible to have a bad day when it's so nice outside. Here are details about a few of the best events from the past three days.

Thursday

On Thursday I enjoyed my first full day off (no work at either the golf course or at the restaurant) in quite some time. It was too nice to sit around or even sleep in, and fortunately, I had a golf outing with family friend Bob Ciulla planned at The Course at Yale. Joining us for our 8:30 AM tee time were two of Mr. Ciulla's regular playing partners: Ken Mackenzie, a former pitcher for the New York Mets, and John Godley, a lifetime veteran of the Yale course and author of a book detailing it's history.

The famous "Biarritz" ninth at Yale--the swale in the middle of the green is six feet deep!

I've had the fortune of growing up playing Taconic, the Williams College golf course. In all of the rankings, Taconic always finishes second to Yale for best college courses. Now Taconic is my favorite place to play golf, and I knew that Yale would have to be special to outmatch Williams's golf track. After eighteen holes at Yale Thursday morning, many memorable shots, conversations with Mr. Godley about the history of the course and the philosophy of the design, and two jaw-dropping moments when seeing nine and eighteen for the first time, I understood why Yale tops the charts. Every hole is memorable, strategic, and exacting, and though the views aren't quite as nice as those at Taconic, the individual holes are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. It's easily the best classic course I've ever played. Plus, sharing the four hours with a few old-timers who didn't hesitate to yell at me for leaving a birdie putt short made the morning pure fun. 

Since I was already close to downtown New Haven, I used my free afternoon to visit two of our favorite food stops: Claire's Corner Copia and Gourmet Heaven. Claire's is an all-vegetarian cafe with incredible baked goods and drinks, and Gourmet Heaven is a market and deli with an endless buffet line of all types of foods. I picked up some sushi and fruit salad for dinner, and enjoyed a fabulous meal after my evening workout. It was a good day off.

Friday

I wasn't finished with spending time with Mr. Ciulla, because on Friday, my grandparents visited from Williamstown to see their friends the Ciullas, and of course, me. I showed them my home at 64 Fernwood Rd and the New Haven Country Club before leading them to the Ciulla's home, which turned out to be only a few miles away. Then the five of us went on a sightseeing drive--up to East Rock Park to look out over the city of New Haven, over to Ridgewood Rd to show off my cousin Leeza and her fiance Ben's newly purchased house, and then to Liuzzi's Specialty Italian Market. My grandfather absolutely loves Italy (hence the name "Babo"), so that was a lot of fun. I'll have to visit Italy at some point, although experiencing it with Babo would be the ultimate adventure. 

Later that evening we all rendezvoused at Park Central Tavern for dinner. I really enjoyed showing my grandparents where I've been working, and we were certainly treated well. It's fun to know the menu so well that I can describe any dish and make suggestions, but I have a hard time picking a favorite entree because they're all so good. Spending an evening at PCT with Mommom and Babo and the Ciullas was a treat, and I'm so glad they came down for a visit.

The Weekend

Today I was awake at 5:30, dressing in my new NHCC gear and rushing through a quick bowl of cereal so that I could be at the club by six. I did see a wonderful sunrise, which was perhaps the only benefit of being up so early. By seven-fifteen, we had forty-five carts staged and arranged by tee time for the Spring Member-Member tournament. The first groups went off at 7:40, but my work was far from over. I was asked to caddy for Mr. Reed and Mr. Colbert and gladly accepted, but I knew I had a long twenty-seven holes ahead of me. The tournament is arranged so that each pair plays five nine-hole matches against the other five pairs in the flight. Three matches Saturday, two Sunday, and then the winners of each flight play in the finals. Though carrying two bags for three matches was a workout, I was helped by the fact that my players were winning. I can be competitive if asked to be, so I read each putt like it was to win the Masters. We closed out our first match on the ninth hole with a clutch par putt, then dominated the second matchup. The first few holes of the last match of the day were a struggle, but we fought back to one-down with one hole to play. Unfortunately, neither could muster a birdie on the ninth and we lost for the first time. I was exhausted but glad we played so well. There's still a lot of golf left to be played, and if tomorrow goes well, we might just be competing for the championship tomorrow afternoon.

A Quick Trip Home For Easter

I'll go ahead and state the obvious: Hamden, CT is a lot closer to home than Florida or Germany. This makes the potential of returning home only a snap decision away. So although I am not homesick (in fact I'm enjoying phase three of the gap year just as much as my grander adventures), I know it's only slightly longer than two hours in the car if I need or want to visit home.

Easter family gathering - Sam, Miranda, Mommom, and Cindy!

This past Easter weekend was my first of what will probably be a handful of quick decisions to swing by Williamstown. I found out that Park Central Tavern didn't need my assistance all weekend until the dinner shift on Sunday night, so plans were quickly set for an overnight trip. I left bright and early on a gorgeous Saturday morning (I would've squeezed in a quick nine holes before leaving, but I had a 10:00 AM kick-a-round on the turf to attend). Within fifteen minutes of passing into Williamstown, I was lacing up my boots for a small-sided soccer match, featuring many of Greylock's past, present, and future stars. And to my delight, the hour-and-a-half of soccer was only a prequel to the nearly three hours of tennis I played in the afternoon. Tennis is awesome, and I wish I knew a little bit more about what I was doing. I have a decent serve and can play a slice anywhere on the court (credit to my squash skills), but my ground strokes are about as inconsistant as the Red Sox's batting order. (Hey, we did win on opening day for the first time in a few years, so maybe it's a little early to criticize the Sox). Anyway, it won't be more than a few weeks until Sam is beating me 6-0 all the time, but I enjoyed hitting it around with the crew on Saturday. 

That evening brought a gathering at the Foehl household for a full slate of college sports on television. The NCAA basketball games were slightly uninspiring; even though it's always cool to see a high seed make it to the final four, I had little motivation to root for Wichita State as opposed to previous Cinderellas like Butler, VCU, and George Mason. Maybe Wichita would have more going for them if FSGC hadn't reached the Sweet Sixteen as a fifteen seed and captured the national spotlight. Fortunately, there was plenty of college hockey on as well. The greater New Haven area suddenly became the hockey capital of America as Yale and Quinnipiac both pulled off come-from-behind victories. We'll see both of them two weekends from now in the Frozen Four. Though both of our families are crazy about sports, the frequent Dils-Foehl gatherings are a highlight of mine no matter what is on television. And if all goes as plan, I'll be seeing them in Martha's Vineyard in a couple weeks. (Yeah Toby, get ready for plenty of wiffle ball). 

I've gone too long without mentioning an important new piece to the Dils family. My absence has opened up a spot in the house for Cindy, a Rotary Club exchange student from France. She's been at Mt. Greylock all year long, and we're the fourth family to host her. I got to meet Cindy this past weekend, and by the looks of it, Miranda is really enjoying having another girl in the house. She made it through our evening of sports viewing with the Foehls, as well as the next morning's Easter Sunrise Service. 

The sunrise service is an Easter tradition that I haven't missed in many years. Every Easter morning, whether it's sunny or snowing, a crowd from the Second Congregational Church of Williamstown gathers at Mt. Hope for a short service. We stand in a circle, listen to the congregation's youth, and sing without any piano or organ. And once in a while, as was the case this Easter, we see a sunrise. 

My visit home for Easter wouldn't have been complete without a brunch with my grandparents, Mommom and Babo. They arrived home from their six week stay in Florida this past Friday, and I know we were all thankful, because Easter wouldn't be the same without them. It feels like a whole lot longer than six weeks ago that I said goodbye to Mommom and Babo in Florida. Sharing an Easter meal with them was a treat. I've missed our Sunday gatherings as much as anything this year, so each one I get to attend is even more special.

As I drove back to Hamden, I realized there was a lot to look forward to. My first two weeks of settling in and learning the ropes at my jobs are now over. I feel comfortable everywhere I go, and I am excited that caddying at the New Haven Country Club begins soon. It's been fun living here in Hamden, and I can't wait for spring to stay for good. I'm taking it one day at a time, because if I've learned anything this year, it is that time goes by way too fast.

Living and Working in Hamden CT

I can't imagine my life without the adventures I've had since graduating high school and undertaking my gap year. Now I'm on to Phase Three. It was by far the easiest to pack up and go for a third time; for one, I'm much closer to home than Germany or Florida, and two, I'm settling down with family in  an area I already know. There is little grandeur about moving one state south to go work for the spring--not when you compare it to my other adventures, at least. But I know I need a different type of experience. Learning how to operate in a working environment is just as important as discovering the nuances of a new culture or figuring out how to live on my own.

My Odd Jobs

Through the generosity of my great aunt and uncle, Harry and Nellie Scoble, I am now situated in Hamden, CT. My first week consisted of many introductions, some paperwork, and a bit of job training; now, I'm ready and willing to work and work hard. My uncle Harry has been instrumental in aligning my job opportunities. He is the president of the Summit Corporation of America--a metal processing and manufacturing company--and also owns a restaurant called Park Central Tavern. I have the chance to work at Summit during the days--doing anything from office work to maintenance and odd jobs in the factory. In the evenings, I make the short drive to Park Central. Over the past few nights, I've been learning the ins and outs of the operation. It's pretty simple. The restaurant is my first commitment, and I know I will enjoy working there most nights this spring. I also know there are plenty of opportunities at PCT. It won't be hard to establish myself, and then I can go from there.

My third job opportunity will be at the New Haven Country Club. My day job at Summit is only temporary, because once the golf club opens for the season, I'll have the chance to work with the head pro and hopefully get to caddy as well. Though my first couple days at Summit went well, I look forward to the course opening because it's two minutes away instead of the forty minutes it takes to get to Summit. And all commutes aside, it will be nice to have a gorgeous golf course to look at instead of a dirty factory. The golf club is timeless, and the old Willie Park Jr. design has undergone restorations so it plays similar to the way it did back in the 1920s. Whether I'm playing the course or caddying, I'll know all of its tricks by the time it reaches full splendor in late May.

Here in Hamden

I can't wait to get to know Hamden and the surrounding areas. My dad grew up here, and ever since I was young I remember making visits. First it was Thanksgivings with my grandparents Mimi and Papa while they still lived here, and more recently we've rekindled our Christmas Eve lunch tradition with incredible family gatherings at Harry's restaurant. Living here for a few months will be different than those short visits. I will truly get to know the area and understand more about the place where my dad grew up. It's also nice to spend time with family that I know well but don't see as often as I'd like. I've seen Harry and Nellie's daughter Leeza almost every day (it's hard to believe she's engaged already), and I'll get to see Harry Jr. when he comes home from his senior year at St. Joe's in Philly. And when no one is around, I still have their beagle named Oscar to mess around with. He likes to sleep in, and most mornings I wake up with him curled up on my bed. 

A Look Back on My Return North, From My New Home in Hamden CT

It was barely two weeks ago that I completed the final miles of my road trip. Exiting off of I-87 and heading west, then finally passing Jiminy Peak, Five Corners, and Mt. Greylock, I knew my time on the road was up. Departing Williamstown six weeks earlier in bitter cold with the promise of a month of Florida warmth felt so long ago, yet here I was arriving back home even before winter had blown its final breath. 

It's difficult to compare my Germany adventure to my road trip, because they were so very different. In Germany, I had the time and structure in place to take things slowly--to not only observe but learn; to not only meet people but build relationships that will last a life time. In my solo excursion down south and back, I took things at a faster pace--attempting to squeeze in as many experiences as time would allow. My focus was different, too. The South is a whole new world compared to New England, but at the same time, it's still America. There's no language barrier, no new system of government or social structure, and no thrill of being in Europe. I didn't have the desire to go out of my way to look at a church or a historical monument. Instead, I was interested in discovering a new golf course; visiting family, friends, or friends of friends; and getting a feel for the broad spectrum of life in a different part of my own country. And after accomplishing all of this, along with the many hours spent in the drivers seat of the Malibu, I arrived home, again. 

This time, it was much easier to answer the question, "How was Florida?" When I was asked the same thing about Germany, I rarely knew where to start. But most people in Williamstown are more familiar with Florida than anywhere in Europe. I could get by with something along the lines of: "The weather was gorgeous; I played a lot of golf; I spent a lot of time driving; it was a lot of fun." And above all, it was a ton of fun--certainly not a bad way to spend six weeks of winter. 

A Few Occurrences While Driving Home

With Dudleyite Rich Maxwell

I cannot be finished with my road trip without writing a bit about my trip home. Five days of slowly decreasing temperatures and a few notable stops later, I reached Williamstown from Dunedin, FL. I took a different and more direct route than on my way down, stopping to see family friends instead of buddies in college. My first destination was Seabrook Island to see a longtime Dudleyite Rich Maxwell. Though I wish I had time for golf on Seabrook (or on next door Kiawah Island), it was still a gorgeous place to stay. And I did find time for a final round of golf the next day in North Carolina, when I drove slightly out of my way to play a course called Tobacco Road. It was a unique course to say the least, and though I'm glad I don't have to play that style of golf every day, trying my hand at the extreme layout that is "the Road" was a ton of fun.

My favorite stop was in Washington D.C. I bypassed D.C. on my way down, but no East coast road trip would be complete without a visit to our nation's capital. I visited to see Charlie and Martha Johnson and received the bonus of seeing the Capitol. Charlie Johnson served an incredible tenure as the Parliamentarian of the House of Representatives. He worked in the Capitol building every day, and a quick glance at his "wall of fame" at their home in Bethesda, MD reveals his connection to the most powerful political figures of this country. Though he retired in the mid-2000s, he still has a small office in the basement of the building and still has access that few even dream of. My arrival included no visitor parking or tourist entrance; instead, I parked in the lot reserved for employees and "special guests" and got to sneak in one of the side doors, with Charlie leading the way, of course. It's an incredible place. I'm as big of a fan of American history as anyone, so I enjoyed walking around and seeing statues and paintings that triggered bits of knowledge stored up in my brain. But I won't go into any detail; simply walking where thousands of instrumental politicians have worked, debated, and compromised is the most important part of the experience.

With Charlie Johnson in Bethesda, MD

Getting a tour from Charlie Johnson does have its perks. Not only did Charlie introduce me to someone in every hallway, but he also made sure to take me to places where normal tours do not go. The photo above is the view from a private balcony on the front of the Capitol looking over the National Mall. The offices that have access to this balcony were property of the Speaker of the House and his cohorts. I know Charlie would like to think he set it up, but just a minute later when he was pointing out the Speaker's office, there was John Boehner walking towards us. Politics aside, it was neat to see someone like that in person. I could tell immediately that he really did respect Charlie, and when I was introduced, he took the extra second to say, "Hi Tom, John Boehner, nice to meet you." Of course I knew who he was from the second I saw him, but his humbleness made him really likable.

It was a tremendous stay with the Johnsons, and the next day, after a stop at the National Cathedral for a few pictures and a quick lunch at Potbelly's, I was off to Delaware to see the other Johnsons for my final stop before heading home. Drew is Charlie and Martha's son, and seeing Drew and his family one more time was a cool way to end the trip. I stood on the beach that day at sunset with Drew and Luke (a soon-to-be Cub at Camp Dudley) and watched the surfers in their wetsuits riding wave after crashing wave. It was beautiful there on the Delaware coast. I'd been going non-stop for weeks, and in that moment, I found it fitting to slow down and reflect on my trip. Phase two of the gap year was nearly over. Though nothing will ever compare to my time in Germany, six weeks on the road were about as good as it gets.

The Delaware shoreline at sunset

Golf & Hockey (And Sunsets on the Beach)

Visiting Grandparents in Florida, Part 2

Though I had seen Mimi and Papa, my grandparents on my dad's side, only a few weeks earlier for a Super Bowl visit, my one night with them in Dunedin barely counted for a visit. Heading north from Placida, Miranda and I hit heavy traffic but made it to Mimi and Papa's in time for dinner. She would have an abbreviated visit, but I would stay for a full four days. As I learned over the course of my visit, Dunedin is a great place to live. While a quiet community like Placida is a perfect place for a relaxing week or six weeks of vacation, many long-term residents choose places in and around Tampa Bay because there is so much to do. I found that out quickly. We filled our days with all sorts of activities, dining experiences, and fun times in Florida's warm weather.

I'll write briefly about golf first. A few weeks back when I first visited Dunedin, I had the chance to join Papa's Monday golf group for a morning round. He also plays on Wednesdays with some of the same guys at a different course: Seven Springs. Two days later, Papa and I played the local Dunedin Country Club, which was a different type of course than the two where he usually plays. In both rounds, I hit the ball better than ever but struggled more than ever on the greens. At Seven Springs I shot an 81 with four three-putts and a few more near-"gimmies" that lipped out. Though it would've been fun to shoot a couple 75's, I had no trouble having fun golfing with Papa.

Outdoor seating is always a nice thing in Florida

One of the highlights not only of my stay with Mimi and Papa but also of the entire road trip was our Thursday night outing to see the Boston Bruins play in Tampa. The evening started with a dinner in downtown Ybor City at the Tampa Bay Brewing Company. Our quest to find the restaurant took us through a really cool part of Tampa; the cobblestone streets, trollies, and plethora of great restaurants made Ybor a fun place to be before the game. My Cuban sandwich was superb (I couldn't pass through Tampa without having a Cuban sandwich), and the fried plantains definitely crack my top ten list of foods I've tried this year.

In the past few years, my Bruins have surpassed the Red Sox and Celtics in order of my favorite Boston teams. Though I grew up visiting Fenway Park every season and also had my seventh birthday party in the front row at a Celtics game, I'd never seen the Bruins live. Who would've imagined I'd see the B's for the first time in Florida?

We arrived at the game with plenty of time to spare; watching warmups, it was clear that Tyler Seguin was the most gifted player on the ice. I think we often forget that he is barely twenty-one, and with the skill and speed he has now, I can't wait to see him a few years down the road. As I stood a few rows back from the glass and snapped photos, I couldn't help but wonder at the sheer size of Zdeno Chara and Milan Lucic. The program listed them at 6'9" and 6'4" with Lucic having the slightly bulkier build, but on skates they both looked like giants. Size doesn't always matter, though. Brad Marchand scored the goal that put Boston ahead for good and was a pest all night long. Nathan Horton was the player of the game, however, scoring the first and fourth goals. He is finally injury-free, and on this night in Tampa Bay, he lead the team to victory.

It was an incredible treat to see an NHL game with Papa. Our seats were pretty ideal, and we got to see a couple close up goals scored down our end. Even better, we sat directly under the lightening machine. Each time the Lightening scored, we could see and hear some serious energy coming out of the metal rods right above us. It was a fun stadium to say the least, and though I've never thought of Florida or Tampa as a place where hockey would be popular, it seems they have no trouble selling out the arena every night.

Plenty of people out on a Friday afternoon at Clearwater Beach

I can't summarize my vacation with Mimi and Papa without talking about the beaches. We visited two located right next to each other; though they were both popular and highly rated, they couldn't have been more different. Caladesi Island required a ferry ride across the bay and through the Mangrove canals to reach the marina. The main building is probably the only establishment on the island, and the rest is pure dunes and sandy beaches. We walked almost all the way to the tip of the island, collecting a few shells and laughing at the pelicans fighting the wind. Clearwater Beach was different to say the least. After a round of golf, we packed up the car and drove down to Clearwater and crossed the bridge that brought us out to the gulf. Whereas Caladesi is a destination for a day, Clearwater could be a vacation destination for a week. There were more than enough hotels, condos, and houses on the island, and on top of that, they had all of the restaurants and shops one would need for a pleasant week of vacationing. The actual beach is massive, extending from the back doors of the restaurants and hotels fifty or a hundred yards down to the crashing waves. Pier 60 is a popular stop along the beach. Basically it's an extension of Route 60, and half of it is covered in artists' tables while the other half is exclusive to fishermen.

We decided to sit down for dinner, take things slowly, and make sure we stayed until sunset. Grouper was the best and freshest fish available, so we took advantage of it. I could barely see the salad part of my grouper caesar salad because the filet was so big, but I enjoyed every bite of it. It was my second-to-last night in Florida. By that time the next day, I had the car packed up and ready to go. Seeing Mimi and Papa was so much fun. Dunedin is their home, and now I have an appreciation for where they live and what they do. There are plenty of fond memories, too. I can't thank Mimi and Papa enough for having me visit, taking me out on the golf course, on the beach, or out to restaurants where we watched the sunset. I waved goodbye on the morning of Sunday the 24th to start my drive north, and I knew it wouldn't be the last time I make a trip down to Dunedin. 

 

Beach Time and Seafood in Placida

Visiting Grandparents in Florida, Part 1

It feels like forever ago that I sat on the screened porch of 406 in the Placida Harbor Club, dining on fresh papaya, strawberries, and melon with my grandparents, Mommom and Babo. Now as I sit in my own room looking out at the brown and snow landscape, I realize how luck I've been to spend time with family down in Florida. I've been just a little bit busy since then, but during my five days at Placida, I had the chance to relax. When I'm near the water, I often get the same feeling that I do on a golf course: wonder and tranquility. There's something about a beach stretching into infinity and the soothing crash of waves that stirs up a certain kind of happiness that's hard to find anywhere else. And being with family in a place like this doesn't get any better. 

I arrived on Valentine's Day night in a downpour, and the weather grew better from there. It was cold the next morning, but not cold enough to stop us from venturing out to the Waterside Grill for some lunch or taking the trip out to Boca Grande to pick up a new bathing suit for myself. I wrote about the next day's golfing experience in a previous post, but we can all agree the weather, at least on the back nine, was far from ideal.

With Babo on Boca Grande's famous Banyan Street. 

I felt the best part began when my cousins, Ellie, Carter, and Rachel, my Uncle Matt and Aunt Jess, and my sister Miranda rolled in on Sunday morning. Placida Harbor Club has two sets of houses--the two dozen or so on the mainland looking out on the bay, and the five beachside establishments out on the island. A ferry makes the short trip every half an hour; only boats can access the island. The day the Storeys and Miranda arrive was cold, and the night was even colder. After shivering my way through two ferry rides on Sunday, I decided the next morning it would be a good idea to break out my puffy winter coat. I rode comfortably from then on, and by Monday and Tuesday, we were back to the gorgeous Florida weather that we all expect. I loved those early morning ferry rides, not only because the cool breeze reminded me of my bike rides to school in Germany, but also because there was always a good chance of seeing a manatee or a dolphin along the way.

The boat docks, dwarfed by the community's signature tree

The two best parts about spending time with family in Florida were the hours on the beach and seafood every night. First the beach: Placida Island is small, secluded, and covered in seashells--perfect for walks, runs, or swims. The girls found some incredible shells, but it was Carter and I who set off in search of shark teeth. And boy did we find them. Well, Carter found most of them. I would pick up one or two, and by the time I stood up Carter would be holding out a handful of eight or ten. I'm sure we found upwards of 800 teeth, and I wouldn't be surprised if Carter brought home a full jar.

It was beach time (and pool time) during the days, but in the evenings when the sun set over the harbor, it was seafood time. I'm sure I've mentioned Mommom's cooking here before, but having the chance to enjoy it for five days in a row was a treat, especially because fresh seafood was available everywhere we went. I love seafood, and it tastes even better in Florida. We had everything from shrimp cocktail to pan-crusted grouper to mahi-mahi on the grill.

I've traveled a lot this year and wouldn't give any of it up for the world. Still, my days in Placida (and the ones in Dunedin with my Mimi and Papa, my dad's parents, which I will write about next) felt like the vacations I remember from my early childhood. I took three trips to North Captiva Island as a youngster, but those were more than half my life ago. Coming back to Florida after all these years reminded me of those memories while I created new ones in the company of my grandparents, my sister, and the Storeys. Thank you to Mommom and Babo for having me stay with them, and I can't wait to see you guys when you get home at the end of the month!

A Long Awaited Taste of Dunedin

A home-cooked Super Bowl, with golf on the side

My grandparents on my Dad's side--Mimi and Papa, as we call them--have been splitting time between Grafton, NY and Dunedin, FL for a long time. And for all this time, no one in my family has been to visit--until this past weekend. I knew that in my road trip south, seeing Mimi and Papa was inevitable, but thanks to the kindness of Kirk at the farm, I was able to sneak out for two days and see them even earlier than I expected. 

As we all know, the Super Bowl was played this past Sunday. Though I can't remember a Super Bowl that I've missed since the beginning of the Patriots' dynasty a dozen years ago, this trip across the state wasn't just about seeing the game. Two weeks working at a farm isn't all that drastic when you think about it, but after a long first week with plenty of ups and downs, it was an incredible feeling to be free again. I was going to Dunedin to relax, enjoy a few meals, and press the reset button before another week of farming. And seeing Mimi and Papa for the first time since August wasn't a bad deal either.

A beach panorama, just for fun

Even though I was only with Mimi and Papa for a night, it was nice to be in a real home again, not just a bunkhouse on the backroads of New Smyrna Beach. They live in a great location. Their home is close to pretty much everything important: the ocean, stores on every street, plenty of golf courses, Spring Training stadiums, and the cities of Tampa and St. Petersburg. Their longtime friends, Don and Lynn Disbrow, lived close as well, and that's where we ventured for Sunday's evening activities. 

The NFL dodged a bullet with this Super Bowl. I was fully content enjoying sandwiches and chicken wings and the conversation, but until the 49ers mounted a big-time second half comeback, the game had all the makings of a big letdown. To make matters worse, I decided to call home at halftime to wish my brother and my aunt Jess happy birthdays, and just after hanging up, the lights went out and we had to wait a whole extra half hour for play to resume. Had I known, I could've called home then!

Papa and I got an early start on Monday morning, but not before Mimi made sure I left with plenty of food. I received enough of their specialty breakfast bars to sustain me for the rest of my farming, plus plenty of snacks for the road. We drove to Westchase Golf Club for a morning with Papa's Monday golf group. At 8:30 sharp the sixty-odd men spread out across the course and begin play. We happened to start on the seventeenth, playing with Papa's friend Bill and another golfer named Chuck Butt. The was nice in a typical Florida fashion--lots of water, houses lining nearly every hole, and plenty of sets of tees to accommodate for the old guys. Some times it's nice to play a round where you can hit four-iron off nearly every tee. I didn't play the best golf of my life, but I didn't let any of the old guys beat me, and my approach on the par three eleventh won me ten dollars in the closest-to-the-pin competition. 

After the long round was over, we dined on the five dollar buffet in the clubhouse, and shortly after I was on the road back east. Saying goodbye was easy; if anything, the visit gave me more motivation to work hard for my second and final week at the farm. It's been a rewarding experience already, and one more week of labor will feel like nothing once I'm free to travel again. I don't want to look at my time in Florida as "two weeks on the farm" and then "two weeks of fun," because I have enjoyed myself here in New Smyrna. That being said, I know that there's so much waiting once the "vacation" begins. 

And one last piece of good news: I heard today that my sister has the good fortune of spending her February school break in Florida with my cousins the Storeys. So, not only do I get to see both of my grandparents, but I also get to spend time with my aunt and uncle, my cousins, and Miranda! And to Sam, who will be taking down Berkshire County competition on the hardwood while we're on the beach in Florida, I'll take you to Germany in a few years. For now, enjoy being a teenager (13 as of yesterday)!

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.