Gray day swallows

Flighty flibbertigibbets.

The Starter Bike

Judging by my own experience and by those reported by other fledgling transportation cyclists, the phenomenon of the Starter Bike is fairly common. The Starter Bike gets acquired when the cyclist is just starting out, and is then replaced - usually between a couple of months and a year later - by a different bicycle that suits the rider better.



Starter bikes can fall into a number of categories. Some start with an old bike that a friend or family member gives them, then buys a nicer one after figuring out what kind they actually want (or after the one they've been given falls apart). Others will buy a second-hand bicycle and will later upgrade in the same manner.



Then there is the "budget bike." New cyclists are often reluctant to spend too much money on a new bike, and $500 seems to be a typical budget for those just starting out. So they will purchase a new bike in this price range, but will soon be dissatisfied with the quality. They will then replace it with a higher quality make and model later.



Some bicycles end up replaced because they are the wrong kind of bike for the cyclist. A novice might love the idea of the Dutch Omafiets, but will discover that they just can't ride it in their hilly town. Alternatively, a beginner may start out commuting on a roadbike based on a bike shop's recommendation, but will find it uncomfortable.



Even among seemingly similar bicycles there are differences in handling that may not be apparent at the time of purchase. A perfectly good bicycle of brand X is often sold and replaced with an equally good (and visually similar!) bicycle of Brand Y after just several months of ownership, because the latter better suits the cyclist's ride quality preferences.



All in all, I would say the majority of American transportation cyclists I've spoken to who have been at it for as little as a year, are not riding the same bike now as they did when they first started. And to me this is kind of interesting. Does it mean that novice cyclists would benefit from educating themselves better before making the initial purchase? At one point I thought so, but I no longer do. There are plenty of stories showing that you could be extremely well informed and still buy a bike that is ultimately not right for you.



Another conclusion that is tempting to draw, is that since chances are your first bike will be replaced within a year anyway, buy a cheap one while you hone your preferences. But one thing to consider here is that a low quality bike can discourage cycling entirely. Typical scenario: things start to rattle or go wrong with the bike, and a novice just stops riding. Or, the bike feels extremely uncomfortable or inefficient, and the cyclist decides that this is characteristic of bikes in general. A higher quality bike, even if it is not right for the person in the long run, is more likely to inspire a lasting interest in cycling.



Finally, there is the simple fact that our preferences change over time. Sometimes this has to do with experience. There are bicycles that feel great to a beginner, because they are exceptionally stable and easy to control for those who have not been on a bike in a while. But as the cyclist grows more confident and picks up bike handling skills, the same bicycle can begin to feel limiting due to a lack in speed or maneuverability. But changing preferences need not be a matter of skill - sometimes cyclists just feel like a change from what they were initially attracted to. It seems that with transportation bicycles, there is really no way to know where on the spectrum you will settle. The Starter Bike phenomenon may just be part of the course.

Shifter Placement on a Mixte: an Aesthetic and Functional Challenge

I've been asked to describe how the shifters are set up on my mixte, but I hesitate to write about it, because I don't necessarily recommend this method. My handlebar setup consists of inverse brake levers, elk hide grips covering the entire handlebar, and bar-end friction shifters mounted upon "thumbies" up toward the front. The rationale here was to leave as much of the handlebar area uninterrupted as possible, allowing for a variety of hand positions. It works nicely in that context, but it is not for everyone - which brings me to the issue so many have written to me about: There seem to be few options for mounting gear shifters on a mixte with upright handlebars that are both elegant and convenient. Personally, I find my own setup not entirely elegant: Too many cables up front. And it's not entirely convenient either: The levers can only be reached when the hands are in the aggressive forward position on the bars. But what other possibilities are there?



One alternative is to move the shifters closer to the edges of the handlebars, so that they are near the brake levers. This placement is more convenient if that is the position where you tend to hold your hands the most, and since I've been using my own mixte more and more as a city bike I am considering switching to something like this. The problem, however, is that placing the shifters here interrupts the handlebars and limits potential hand positions: It will not be possible to slide my hands back and forth along the bars the way it's possible on my current mixte set-up. Also, it's essential to get the angle of the shifters just right, and doing so does not always result in attractive placement. Finally, both with my current set-up and with the set-up pictured above, there is something messy-looking to my eye in having so many cables sprouting from the handlebars. I have not been able to find a way to make handlebar-mounted shifters look attractive.



A potential way to clean up the handlebar setup from the "messy cables" look while keeping the shifters within reach is to opt for bar-ends. I tried this prior to my current setup, but quickly discovered that this works well only with the wide Nitto Albatross bars used by Rivendell, and ideally on a bike with a long virtual top tube and/or with the handlebars raised high. Otherwise, you may discover that the bar-end shifters will poke you in the knees to the point where it could interfere with pedaling on turns. That is exactly what happened when I tried them on my small sized mixte with narrow Porteur bars.



If none of these methods appeal to you, you can go the vintage route - one possibility being to mount the shifters on the stem. However, generally this is not recommended for a number of reasons. Some claim that mounting the shifters in this spot is dangerous, because they could potentially "impale" you if you fall forward on your bike. To me this seems rather far-fetched: After all, it's common to have bruises on your thighs from bumping into bar-end shifters, yet no one claims they are dangerous. I think the real reason stem shifters are disliked is that they are considered to be a symbol of lower-end bikes: In the '70s, stem shifters meant that a bike was marketed for amateurs who held their hands mostly on top of the handlebars and were unable to reach downtube shifters.



But while downtube shifters offer elegance and simplicity, removing the second set of cables from the handlebars entirely, most cyclists who are looking for an upright mixte find them difficult to use. In order to shift gears, you have to remove you hand from the handlebars are reach quite a ways down. Particularly if you are sitting upright, this is inconvenient - not to mention beyond the skill level of some cyclists.

As far as aesthetics go, a mixte frame is a challenge to set up, because the twin lateral stays already add a degree of visual complexity to the looks. If you add a cluttered handlebar set-up to that, it can get pretty messy. In vintage photos and in handmade bicycle shows, the cleanest looking mixtes tend to be set up either as single speeds, with hub gearing, or with single chinrings - ensuring that there is, at most, only one shifter to deal with. But in practice, most mixtes today are set up with derailleur gearing and either double or triple chainrings - presenting an aesthetic and functional challenge.

While I cannot offer a solution that would suit everyone's tastes, I wanted to share the methods I know of and the pros and cons of each, as I see them. How have you set up the shifters on your mixte, and are you happy with them in terms of user-friendliness and looks?

Second Life: on Cycling and Aging

Reading On My Own Two Wheels by Malachi O'Doherty*, I am transported from the North Shore of Massachusetts back to the Antrim coast of Northern Ireland, where I spent some weeks on my bike this past Spring. The Belfast-based author describes many of the same roads I traveled on - the same challenging hills, treacherous weather and glorious scenery - making me long to return there even more than I do already.




But the main theme of the book - whose subtitle is Back in the Saddle at 60 - is that of the author's return to cycling after an absence of three decades, and of the relationship between cycling and aging. Overweight and diagnosed with diabetes at 60, Malachi O'Doherty turned to what had been a favourite pastime of his youth in attempts to regain his health and energy. What follows is a complex and engaging personal account that is part memoir, and part commentary on what it is like to ride again as a changed man in a changed world. It is no longer the 1980s and the author is no longer in his 30s. Confronted with a new breed of bicycles, high-traffic roads, newfangled cycling infrastructure, and a society where cycling is far from a normative behaviour, the author finds himself in a state that is a mixture of wonderment, disappointment, frustration, and delight.




On My Own Two Wheels is a personal narrative. It makes no generalisations, gives no advice, offers up no lessons to the reader. But I suspect the experiences described will be widely relatable. I would estimate that as many as a quarter of this blog's readers are middle aged men and women who had cycled in their youth and have recently gotten back into it, or are attempting to do so. I have met many such cyclists riding for transportation in Boston, and more recently at randonneuring and club ride events. I recall reading that the average age of a Paris-Brest-Paris participant is in their 50s.




There are some specifics in Malachi O'Doherty's story that I find intriguing. One is the way he faces changes that have taken place in the bicycle industry during his time off the bike. Of those who return to riding after decades of absence, many gravitate toward the type of bike that had been popular in their youth - seeking out vintage or classic machines, even taking pains to refurbish them with period-correct components. Some want to ride an exact replica of the bicycle they raced or toured on in their 20s or 30s. Others purchase the kind of bike they had dreamed of, but could never afford back in the day. But the author falls into the category that prefers a clean start and turns to contemporary industry standards. He went to a bike shop, asked for advice, and purchased a modern touring bike - fitted with brifters and clipless pedals in leu of the downtube shifters and toe clips he had used three decades earlier. The new aluminium bike is a size smaller than the steel bike of his youth. It handles differently. Far from feeling at home on the alien machine, O'Doherty nonetheless accepts the new technology and the challenges it presents. I get the sense that for him this is part of the deal: As fondly and nostalgically as he recalls the spirited rides and long touring trips of his 30s, reliving the past is not what he is after; he intends to start a new chapter.




Another choice the author makes early on is to stay away from the racing and club cycling cultures - or any particular bicycle culture, for that matter. He describes his preferred riding style as "tootling," or simply wandering around by bike. And yet, he notices contradictions in himself - competitive impulses and cravings for speed that seem to come out of nowhere and undermine (or enhance? it's not always clear) his experience of the two-wheeled journey. He relates these paradoxes in cycling to paradoxes in life. Perhaps cycling offers a means of understanding himself better.




At the time of writing this post I am 33 years old. What draws a person to the bicycle at the age of 50, 60, 70 and beyond I can only speculate. Some are motivated by health and fitness-related concerns. Others take it up as a hobby after retirement. For others still it seems to be a matter of nostalgia. But regardless of the motive, a not uncommon result is that cycling becomes more than just an interest, but a way of life. A "second life," as one local cyclist in his 70s put it, throwing a slender muscular leg over the top tube of his racing bike and giving me a meaningful wink: "I am in better shape now than I was thirty years ago and my mind is sharper." I believe him. Riding with some exceptionally strong cyclists in their 60s and 70s has made me look forward to that age in a way I hadn't done before. I'd like to be like them when I grow up.




----

*Malachi O'Doherty is an online acquaintance, and I am a great fan of his political books and commentary. A reviewer's copy of On My Own Two Wheels was sent to me by the publisher.

How We Ride

To the delight of some and eye-rolling of others, during the first year or two of this blog I referred to riding a bike recreationally as "sporty cycling." What a funny term. Why not just call it roadcycling? Well, because it's not! Roadcycling evokes associations that I felt were not appropriate to the kind of riding I did at the time - or in fact to the kind of riding most people who just want to ride a bike for exercise are drawn to. Roadcycling is its own world, with what I consider to be pretty rigid parameters. There are assumptions about equipment, positioning on the bike, speed, and even style, that are pretty much unspoken pre-requisites no matter how friendly and open the people are. Whether described as "social rides" or "training rides," it is still a fairly specific type of riding that assumes performance-optimised equipment, advanced handling skills, and the ability to maintain what most would consider a high minimum speed. And there is nothing wrong with any of this. Except that not everyone wants, or needs to ride like that. To ultimately be on a bike with dropbars, keeping up with the local roadies, need not be an end goal. Some might truly enjoy riding an upright bike at their own pace, without feeling the need to "advance to the next level." The very idea of advancing - of cycling in order to get faster, stronger - is part of the roadcycling discourse and& need not influence those outside of it.



In May , just a couple of months after I touched a bike for the first time in 13 years, I rode my first 50 miles. I was living in Vienna at the time and riding around on an upright hybrid rental, up and down a short stretch of the Danube bicycle path outside of town after work. Then one Saturday, I just kept going and before I knew it I did 85km - which I hadn't even realised until I looked at the map of the area I covered later; I just knew it felt like "a lot." How fast did I go? No idea. What was my nutritional plan? None. What did I wear? A cotton tunic, leggings and sneakers. Did I look like a complete dork, puffing away on my inefficient hybrid with suspension fork, saddle too low and handlebars too high, my loose sweat-stained top billowing in the wind? To a roadcyclist, maybe. But to a regular person? I just looked like a person doing a long bike ride.





I do not know why, over the years, I have grown attracted to roadcycling and do in fact now want to get faster, stronger, to "advance." I enjoy it and do not regret the transition. But at the same time, I maintain that it is absolutely not necessary to ride a bike in this manner. Last October I was back in Vienna and did a 100 mile ride along the same route I rode in . Again, on an upright bike in regular clothing, with no training in the weeks leading up to it and no nutritional plan. I thought that maybe that kind of ride would be boring for me at this stage, but it wasn't at all. It was just different. A different frame of mind, a different style of riding. I went slowly and didn't worry. It was not about performance or timing. I was just a person, going kind of far on a bike.



Now and again I get emails from readers who are genuinely upset because they can't seem to transition from an upright step-through or mixte to a roadbike with drop bars. The local cycling clubs only cater to the latter. Their spouse rides a roadbike. They feel left out. But the more I think about it, the more I realise it just doesn't make sense to give up the sort of bike you are perfectly happy with because of some misguided notion that you "should" be riding a roadbike if you're serious about cycling. I do wish there were more bicycle clubs that catered to casual cycling, where people on hybrids and upright 3-speeds and mixtes could feel at home and within their comfort zone. I also think there is a difference between casual cycling and casual cyclists. You can be a serious, committed cyclist and ride casually. This distinction is not often acknowledged.



Roadcycling is not the only valid form of recreational or sporty cycling. There are so many ways to ride a bike, and there is no right or wrong way as far as I am concerned. How we ride depends on us alone.

Why do hard and dangerous climbs?

Learning moves on a project. Photo: Steven Gordon

We can all readily appreciate the beauty of rock and the shapes it gives to the world, we just have to travel through the landscape. If we want to dig deeper, we can travel over mountains and look at them. A visual interaction with the rock.

Rock climbing is a deeper interaction with the rock. The medium of movement on rock allows us to crack open the beauty of rock not fully visible to the eye and get more back.

The harder the rock climb, the more we have to understand the rock to move, the more we learn. The more dangerous the rock climb, the more we have to understand the rock so we can stay alive.

The hardest and most dangerous climbs are the most meaningful, but they come at a cost most rock climbers wouldn’t dare to pay. Every climber finds their own balance of cost and reward.

Hardee County Wildlife Refuge

Last night we went to a Happy Hour at Rich and Donna's place. I forgot to take my cameras so you will have to go to Donna's blog to see how much fun we had. I hope we have Happy Hours every single week this winter because we have time to chat with each other and the food is fabulous!



Today Austin discovered some very sad news. He and Lee, the manager here, were the first on the scene of a very bad accident a few days ago. Austin was understandably very shook up over what they witnessed there. There were some very serious injuries involved. He read in the paper today that one of the victims, a thirteen year old boy, passed away. My heart ached over this news even without being a witness to the accident. It is the kind of news that kicks every Mom right in the gut. To be honest, I cried and cried when he told me. I hate that this happened. I hate that it happened because someone decided to drink and drive.



I decided to grab my camera and go visit one of my favorite Peace River places. The wildlife refuge across the street. Although there are many neat animals there, my favorites today were the cats that were there. We had to make nice to get past the ones guarding the boardwalk.



Once they saw we were determined to move forward, they formed a gang. The black one was rather feisty.



Some were sitting on the guardrail, meaning they were pretty much everywhere.



They cheered me up a bit immediately. I think it was mostly due to the babies.



Have you ever seen a cuter thing than a baby kitten face?



Or maybe it was seeing the Momma with her babies. It reminded me that although death is a tragedy that is gut wrenching when it involves a child, there is also always new life to celebrate.



I hate that any mother would have to know the pain the mother of this boy is living through right now. I hate that my boy is feeling a portion of that pain due to his involvement. I love that there is always new life. And that it is how the circle of life is, sad and happy at the same time sometimes. It's just one of those weird things in life.



Austin will be attending the viewing and the funeral. I am proud of his compassion and willingness to offer comfort during this horrible time and because I am his Mom, I'm worried about how this is affecting him. So please send all the love and comfort you can for everyone involved. Kiss your kids and tell them you love them. Remember that no matter how hard it is to be a parent, it is a wonderful thing to have our children here with us. They are always our baby kittens, no matter how old they get. And every single minute we have with them is precious.

From Riverbend Hotsprings to the Rodeo with Art Lamely, Sue Hemming, and the horses they road in on.

We get ready to leave Riverbend Hotsprings to meander up to Colorado.

The day before we left Art and Sue the couple we met in Hillsboro on horseback rode into town. We found them a spot to camp in at the Rodeo Arena at the fairgrounds.

Lucky is Sue's horseBig John is Art's horse

Benjamin is Sue's pack horse - he is not camera shy and liked to zoom in for a close up!

Josie is Art's pack horse - part mustang and is absolutely beautiful.

After they got settled in we drove Art up to the Walmart for supplies. We had gone to the feed store and gotten them a "three string" bale of Hay for the horses. The next day left Riverbend Hotsprings and pulled into the fairgrounds.

Art showed off his bareback skills for us with Big John who is part thoroughbred. Art is taller than Gary to give you an idea of Big John's size (16.2 hands)


Sometime during the first night in the corral, Josie injured her left rear leg. Art and Sue cancelled their Hot Springs soak in order to deal with that. After Art had strained their cash reserves resupplying at Walmart,we went down to the feed store and picked up anotherbale of hay and paid for some Bute (Ibuprofen) for Josie. We gave them a ride up to Socorro to scout the ride and pick up some mail Sue was expecting. They scoped out the lay of the land for the trip on horseback and it did not look hospitable. You look at the scenery a whole lot different when you're on horseback. They average 12-15 miles a day. There seemed to be a 5 mile stretch where you couldn't get there from here and not much water along the way either. We returned to Tor C and had some cocktails outside.

Tucson was enthralled with the horses and so wanted to play with them ("They want to play with me Mommy - they told me so!). He found a bit of lasso rope and started heading to the corral.

We enjoyed visiting and getting to know Art and Sue over the 3 days we spent with them.We got a phone message from Sue the day after we left. It seems Josie is on the mend and they will be getting trailered to Socorro by some other people they met in TorC.

We wish them the best on their Journey! Who knows - maybe we'll meet again!



Till Later!

Meanwhile, we keep on Trek'n

Melissa, Gary & Tucson

Delicate Yellow Columbine and a Happy Dance - Finally!

Saturday, June 4th - - We almost made it back from lunch without stopping to take photos of the flowers! Almost, but not quite. These were in the “Pioneer Garden” near the Library.









Photos taken Saturday, June 4th

Oh, and in case you think all we've been doing while in Salt Lake City is photographing the pretty flowers, I did on this day, late in the afternoon, have occasion to do the “Happy Dance” after finding a Deed where the heirs of my 4th great grandmother sold land in 1849 that had been willed to her by her father Andrew Brinker!



Previously all I had was her name Mary C. (wife of Jacob Switzer). Turns out her name was Anna Catharina, aka Catharine. A book with several updates has been published on the lineage and descendants of Andrew Brinker that take me back three more generations (with names of spouses and their parents) to Zurich Switzerland... way cool.



It was an amazing feeling when I read that little sentence in the Deed Book “It being a tract or parcel of land willed and devised by Andrew Brinker, late of Columbiana County, dec'd, to his daughter Catharine Switzer & her heirs..” The transaction was signed by her four surviving daughters and their spouses (whose names I already had from Jacob's estate settlement).



A little squeal of delight. A few tears. Lots of laughter. A “new” ancestor found – the first one in many, many years. Can you say Happy? Oh yeah. I still have the smile on my face!

Orange Tip of the day



Orange Tip battling against the breeze



Crazy Little Thing Called Love

A few years ago, this picture of my granddaughter and her dog was snapped along with a bunch of her playing soccer. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time. I thought it was cute, but then again I think everything she does is cute.



Today I was going through those pictures and I saw it through different eyes. I got it. It wasn't just cute. Now that I'm a dog owner as in this dog is "our dog" owner...I know what this is. It's pure love.

If you were to follow us around with a camera right now, you'd probably catch a few shots of us doing the same thing to Ava. She's growing rather fond of us by now too.



Living the life in Florida.

Ray of Sunshine

After a night of snow that continued through the morning, I thought for sure this would be a day of working at home. Then suddenly the snow stopped and it grew warm and sunny. And just as I stepped outside to get some coffee, the Co-Habitant came home early due to a change in his schedule. Our eyes met and we knew at once what the other was thinking: Bike ride!

This was the first time we've been on a real ride together in weeks. The Pashleys were ecstatic to finally roam freely in each other's company.

It grew so unseasonably warm, that the snow was all but melted by the bright sunlight.

Only this treacherous footbridge really posed a problem, as it was covered with patches of ice and hard snow. The Co-Habitant sped through it as if it was nothing, but I was more cautious after seeing one jogger after another slip on the ice patches.

When the sun began to set, it was one of those golden sunsets and the views were just beautiful.

I especially love the sun's reflection in the ice formations on the Charles River.

Sunlit cityscape in the distance, with that massive field of cracked ice stretching towards it. So magical.

As the sun set, we rushed to complete the trail loop so as not to be caught there in the dark. The Co-Habitant rides like a maniac, even on the slow and stately Pashley. He is much too fast for me, but I am too arrogant to ask him to slow down - so I brace myself, lean forward on the handlebars (this must look quite comical), and pedal as hard as I can. This time I even passed him a couple of times, which made me realise that riding the Pashley exclusively over the winter months, if only for commuting, has had some effect on my strength. He also complimented my improved leaning technique on turns, which pleased me immensely. Leaning on turns is one of those things that didn't come naturally at all. I guess now I finally got it, because I no longer have to think about it - the lean just happens and I even hold the inner pedal up without realising that I am doing it. It must seem silly to be excited by this, but you have no idea how uncoordinated and unathletic I am. The next goal is to conquer the "steer with your hips" thing. Maybe.

Our sun-drenched afternoon gave way to a surprisingly frigid evening, and after getting off the trail we hurried to seek shelter in a cafe. Once inside, I collapsed on the armchair - realising that I was completely depleted of energy. I was revived by hot coffee and a piece of dark chocolate, but unfortunately once we got outside it was even colder than before. We rode home with incredible speed just to warm up. My legs are now mush and I am so tired I can't think straight - but the ride was a welcome surprise in what has been a decidedly low-intensity season.

Next week I am leaving for Austria again and will be there for a month. Hopefully, when I return to the US spring will be in the air and I will be able to go on long rides again as often as I like. In the meantime, today's wonderful ride will be a nice thing to remember while I am abroad. And I have reason to believe that this time I might actually have a bicycle of my own while in Vienna - the person whose place I will be renting might have a spare. Either way, Lovely Bicycle shall continue relatively uninterrupted as it goes international again.

What We've Been Up To

With hundreds of weekly activities available here at The Villages, the hardest part of being here is picking and choosing just what to do each week. Last year while visiting, Donna introduced me to Bunco. We have continued playing that together this year. We have played at Mulberry, Seabreeze and Bacall and Donna has played at Churchill.



We are tackling line dancing, which comes very easily to Donna due to her professional dance background. Even though I am limping along compared to her, I am really loving it. Donna snapped this picture the other morning as we were heading out. We started at 8 am that morning and danced until almost 11 am.



I have finally moved from the bench to the court with pickleball and my muscles are feeling the effects of that. It is so dreadful hot and the level of play is so much higher here, so between the two-it is exhausting to play each day. It is great fun though and I hope that it will improve my game quite a bit. I can see a huge difference in Nathan's game and his weight already so hoping the same happens with me.



We have enjoyed playing Mexican Train several times, which allows us some "down time" from time to time and is a nice filler in between other activities. And all of that is just the daytime fun. At night it is more Bunco, Pickleball and of course-going out to eat. I am sharing two more of Donna's pictures from some of our eating out trips together.







We are really loving our time here so much! It was a good decision to spend the summer here!

New Hampshire & Massachusetts

My earlier experience with New Hampshire on this trip lasted about 45 minutes – traversing it to get from Vermont to Maine.

Rather than simply adding it to the list of states I've been in, I figured it would be nice if I spent more than an hour there but I didn't really have the time to spare. At least I drove through it again. The weather was pleasant – sunshine and blue skies - and it was mostly a nice drive. I spent the night in Concord. The next morning, Thursday (October 8th), was also a very nice day for traveling although there was quite a bit of traffic and congestion through Dover, Manchester, and Nashua.

By noon I was in Massachusetts and, 30 minutes later, at Pine Grove Cemetery in Leominster, where Joseph and Sarah (Tarbell) Joslin and his grandfather Peter Joslin are buried. Joseph and Sarah are (probably, most likely) my 6th great-grandparents which would make Peter my 8th great-grandfather. Photographs of their tombstones are posted on find-a-grave but I wanted to visit their graves myself.

Pine Grove Cemetery, established in 1742, is the oldest of the four cemeteries in Leominster. It was closed to burials in 1937 and is on the National Register of Historic Places – there are nearly 100 veterans of the Revolutionary War buried there. It took me about half an hour to locate the Joslin gravesites. It was a pleasant walk through history. I recognized other surnames that had married into the Joslin line – Wilder, Whitcomb, Gardner – undoubtedly some very distant relatives. But how they were related I knew not. I haven't done enough research on those lines to make the determination.

Did I mention that black slate tombstones are really, really hard to photograph! Particularly when they are in the shade.

That's me at the gravesites of Joseph and Sarah (Tarbell) Joslin.

In memory of
Lieut. Joseph Joslin
who died
August. 18. 1829
Aet. 86

In memory of
Mrs. SARAH JOSLIN
wife of
Lieut. JOSEPH JOSLIN
who died 28 Aug. 1810
aged 69

Inscription at bottom of Sarah's stone:
The happy soul that conquers sin;
Shall everlasting glory win.
Shall see the end of war & pain.
And with the King of glory reign.

By far the oldest tombstone of an ancestor (or probable ancestor) that I have personally photographed is that of Peter Joslin/Joslyn (below). I was delighted to find that it was out in the sun. The lighting was perfect!

In Memory of Capt.
PETER JOSLYN
who Died April. ye
18th Domini 1759
Aged 94 Years.

O Death Thoust conquered me
by thy Dart am Slain.
But CHRIST has conquered thee
And I shall rise again.