It’s been a month in the Piedmont region of Virginia as I prolong my stay north this year to enjoy three seasons, though winter’s early dusk and temps have appeared this week.
​    I'm quite pleased to have found a comfortable, affordable room with a single woman of my generation and her toddler german shepherd. It’s been a delightful spot to write, read, get caught up in a Netflix series, cook real meals, meet life’s demands, and rest in between Halloween, the time change, a dazzling full moon, and mercury retrograde.
    The community, Lake of the Woods, was built around a man-made 550-acre lake fed by the Flat Run stream and numerous springs. Created in 1967 by Virginia Wildlife Clubs, it was then developed by Boise Cascade on 2,600 acres. You can still find some of the original weekend and summer getaway houses offering a feeling of days past, but the majority of now more than 4,000 single family homes are large homesteads.
    Now boasting two lakes, the community also has a clubhouse, a golf course, an equestrian center, multiple beaches and marinas, clubs and classes, a fitness center, and a multi-denominational church. So if your passion is boating, golfing, horseback riding, or simply sitting by the water with a good book, you’re all set.
    On the other hand, if you want to cycle the more than 41 miles of paved roads, you best be courageous or just plain crazy. I’m not sure which category I fall into but I refused to succumb to the fear and danger of riding. Yet, I did cut my weekly miles in half to remain in survival mode while enjoying the rolling hills as the challenge before me. Long walks filled in the gaps in a setting that seems so inviting. The nearest town is Locust Grove but there isn’t a town center or neighborhoods to explore by foot or two wheels there.

​So, what about that headline? Throughout the month, I was feeling up and down. Some days I was counting how many I had left here. Others, I was so grateful for the gorgeous sunset on the lake and the sound of crisp leaves with every step. The setting has much to offer yet the occupants appear to be polar opposites. There are many anecdotes but this one represents all I have to say on the subject of the culture:
​     My first week walking on the only paved path I noticed signs stating, “No e-bikes or motorized vehicles” which was just fine by me. Days later, I was surprised by teens on motorbikes just behind me and politely reminded them of the usage. The response from the 14-15 year old leader of the group was “Shut the *uck up, old lady, just shut the *uck up.”. I’m not sure what stunned me more, the caustic response or being called an old lady.
     On what became my walking route, I’d pass the same 11-12 year old boy heading home quite frequently. We’d always be walking in opposite directions just a bit off the roadway. Once this occurred a few times, he seemed pleasantly surprised to see me out and as the weeks went by he went from a nod to a smile to a “hello”. Now I’m a little sad about deserting this child who enjoyed a little human interaction at the end of his school day.
     This may not seem like much, but the past month has been days of wondering “Who’s going to drive by cautiously? vs. Who’s going to drive right toward me?”. “Who’s going to give me a blank stare vs. Who’s going to smile and say ‘hello’?” I’m still wondering why anyone would live in a community setting when they seldom want to interface with neighbors. Figuring out human behavior is very difficult these days. 
     At week’s end I hop the Auto Train; happy to escape winter's fury but only possibly prepared for the culture shock.

While I wasn't ready to leave the woods, I was quite happy to arrive to a comfortable space in a quiet North End neighborhood of Hagerstown. Following an interesting 5-hour chat with my host, the entire townhouse became mine for the next few days. I easily maneuvered a bike route to pedal about town, but on my second day returned to find the license plates on my car had been stolen. It was a Saturday so that dampened my entire weekend with worry of how I was going to move on Tuesday morning and a dozen other "what ifs".  So, suffice to say that my welcome to Maryland was not what it could have been and my interest in Hagerstown waned. Come Monday morning, the MVA did surpass my expectations -- new plates & registration in less than an hour -- so I could carry on my merry way. Yet, I'm saddened at the loss as my original Maryland plates would have turned 20 next Spring. I was somehow attached to that "Treasure the Chesapeake" tagline. 

As the universe would have it, my next stop was Frederick to the same townhouse I'd enjoyed this past spring.  After the theft stress, this was a comfortable transition, and I hopped on two wheels and picnicked in the neighborhood park before checking in. The greatest surprise was a visit with an Eastern Shore friend, Karen, to reconnect face-to-face. It was a most delightful day to walk, talk, eat, repeat.  I'm both stunned and grateful when people reach out. 

The week began as Summer and now storms are passing through with Fall temps, but I'm now rested and ready to head into northern Virginia for a month with a new spot to explore.    

Location was the basis for booking four nights of camping at Newtown Battlefield State Park near Elmira, New York. It's the site of one of the largest battles of the Revolutionary War so it seemed odd that it was now a campground. Nevertheless, my plan was to push through all of Pennsylvania and into Maryland as my next stop so off I went. 

My first night, a couple from Maryland arrived late to share the Main Park Campground with me, but otherwise there was one other tent camper about two miles north.  Before departing, the woman commented how I was "so brave for being here alone", adding that "there must be many ghosts here". Perhaps, but for the rest of my stay, I was the only living person and six sites were all mine.

The morning temps were quite cool when I stepped out of my tent to make coffee, but the days were sunny, in the low '70s, and spectacular Fall colors surrounded me.  While it was impossible to bike, I enjoyed trail walking in the woods and simply being disconnected.  I could have stayed another few days. 

Since rolling into the Rochester area, I've been on task with the plan to consider life in a few small towns and villages near the Erie Canalway Trail. My eye was on the Fairport, Perinton and Pittsford areas that are familiar to me from biking in years past.  Friend Barbara patiently drove me to a number of neighborhoods and we even went on a "townhouse for sale" tour.  While real estate prices are still a little high, my head spun around by the property tax estimates more than anything. Expect I could buy here but can't afford to live here! As far as I'm concerned at this point, time will tell as we continue to head in a downward economic spiral.  Vermont, New York and perhaps North Carolina are still on the homebase options list. 

Otherwise, there was time well-spent with friends, plenty of miles on the saddle, a few hot days by the pool, and more. Next stop, I'm back to tent mode as I push toward the NY-PA border.   

What am I doing in Schenectady in August? Quite a lot, actually. Most folks know this city thanks to Thomas Edison who set up Edison Machine Works back in 1886. My familiarity stems from having friends nearby who I've visited in the past few years. When I opted to spend a month here in the heart of town, my motivation was to have time to see what Schenectady offers its 68,000 people in addition to the Mohawk-Hudson Bike-Hike Trail.  

My room rental is in a lovely space with a very kind host but I wasn't comfortable coming and going at night or leaving my car on the street with items visible. Ironically, Edison's city has poor lighting, but thankfully, I had a driveway spot and very accommodating friends. For day time roaming it was an amazing location within walking distance to the river, a college campus, the Stockade Historic District, downtown, and Little Italy.  I could hop on my bike at the front door and be on the Trail in just a few blocks. 

I'm most surprised by the fact that I never knew the Stockade District existed --  it's one of the oldest residential neighborhoods in the country with over 40 homes over 200 years old and is the first Historic District established in New York.  I'm most pleased that I made multiple visits to bakeries for tomato pie.  I'm most grateful to everyone who celebrated my birthday with me in some way -- greetings, gifts, gab, and Thai cuisine. It's been a busy month of playing tourist, putting miles on my feet and seat, listening to live music, eating plenty of good food, socializing with familiar faces, and celebrating my birth month.

I'm moving on as the week ends knowing I don't want to live urban, suburban or rural. So, now I head toward the Rochester metro to kick tires in a few nearby small towns and villages.