The Midatlantic Backcountry Discovery Route

Day 1 (Sections 9 and  most of 8)

    As I mentioned in my previous post, First Dirt, with the acquisition of a

2021 KTM 890 Adventure motorcycle, I have expanded my horizons from paved roads to the unpaved. The Bureau of Transportation Statistics, a statistics agency in the Department of Transportation, estimates that, as of 2019, there are approximately, 2.9 million miles of paved roads in the USA (an admirable goal for any biker!). Yet, they also estimate another 1.2 million miles of unpaved roads! These cannot be ignored!

    Riding off the beaten path onto a beaten path is a completely different experience. First, it requires completely different riding skills.  You have to trust the bike. Let the physics work as you slip and slide on the less than perfect traction. But! The experience is also completely different. Each section of road with it's texture and feel heightens your awareness of the ever changing environment. 

Backcountry Discovery Routes (BDR) is "a non-profit organization that creates off-highway routes for dual-sport and adventure motorcycle travel." This group has created ten routes, two of which are east of the Mississippi. The Midatlantic Backcountry Discovery Route (MABDR) is:

a scenic ride for dual-sport and adventure motorcycles that uses dirt, gravel and paved roads to wind through remote parts of Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. Starting in Damascus Virginia, and ending in Lawrenceville, Tioga County, PA, this 1,080-mile route, primarily uses forest roads and rural country lanes, to lead riders through the Appalachian mountains, majestic forests, bucolic farming landscapes, Amish country, and locations that played pivotal roles in early American history.

The route is divided from South to North into 9 sections, each of which has its own flavor. I started out riding North to South from my home near Binghamton, NY on Sunday, August 22, 2021 at approximately 8:30AM. It started out as a beautifully sunny day (foreshadowing). I made quick work of the never-to-be-finished I-86/17 West to Corning, NY and from there, down I-99 to Lawrenceville, PA, the official starting (ending?) point of the MABDR.

    If you are riding North to South, this

is the "official" start sign, welcoming you to Pennsylvania at the Lawrenceville exit. 

Please note that you must obey all posted signs, especially ones that state, "pursue your happiness"! I know I did.

    Section 9, from Lawrenceville, PA to Cedar Run, PA,

 is the perfect introduction to the MABDR and off road, "adventure" riding. It starts out paved and then slowly progresses to packed dirt 

and some gravel as it winds through beautiful farmland and rolling hills.

Ironically, there was more than a little traffic on 9, today. I have found, however, that most vehicles will slow and pull over so that motorcycles may continue. 9 then passes you over to Tioga State Forest

and your first, canopies forest road. Instinctively, you take in a deep breath of the somewhat humid forest air.

Now, you are entranced. You leisurely wander through the wood until you are discreetly delivered to US 6. US 6 is also known as the Grand Army of the Republic Highway. A tribute to the American Civil War Veterans Association, ironic knowing that the MABDR will eventually lead us through many Civil War settings. US 6 is well known to local motorcyclists as a key access to the beautiful riding of central PA and "the PA grand canyon" (more to follow on this).

    Turn right on US 6 and you will head to Bishop California. Left, will take you to Provincetown, MA on the tip of Cape Cod (also a wonderful ride). We turn left but only for a little bit before we turn south and join Painter-Leevonia Road

 to head toward Colton Point State Park and Pine Creek Gorge, what most of us call the Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania. This is the highlight of 9. Stop at the scenic overlooks in the park

before continuing. The last half of 9, as you wind your way through forested twisties down to Cedar Run, is more training for what is to come on 8. Enjoy every moment. 

You break out of the woods with exultation and arrive in the picture perfect town of Cedar Run. 

    Cedar Run is best known as a way point for cyclists on the Pine Creek Rail Trail. Now it also serves as the end point of MABDR 9 and the start of MABDR 8. Visit the General Store.

Yes, they have ice cream. BUT they also have an "everything" topping grilled cheese sandwich that is out of this world. Have a drink, rest, relax. 8 is coming.

    8 is the section that will turn you from an adventure/off-road newbie into an adventure/off-road intermediate. Your skills will improve.

    The first part of 8 begins at the end of the main street in Cedar Run where it immediately turns to dirt. From there you climb through some mild wooded roads down to Little Pine State Park 

which brings you back to Pine Creek. 

Easy riding through the park takes you to Waterville and a mandatory stop for gas and food at McConnell's Country Store.

    The second part of 8 runs from Waterville down to the crossing with US 80. It is reasonable to consider stopping for the night on US 220 in the towns of Jersey Shore or Lock Haven. (If you are an aviation enthusiast, the Piper Aviation Museum in Lock Haven is a must see.) From US 220 to I-80, section 8 is a challenging set of dirt roads with some crazy, rock strewn, hairpins. These challenging roads are dotted with scenic vistas until you empty out onto PA 45 and the end of 8.

    The first part of 7

runs from PA 45 to US 322 near State College, PA  This segment includes the Bald Eagle State Park, Poe Paddy State Park and the Poe Valley State Park. There is an expert level option through here that I have never seen😂. Stopping for the night in State College, PA or Milroy, PA is a reasonable thought, too. Plenty of places to stay and places to eat as long as there is no home game. 

    For me, the now steady rain convinced me to stop and I already had reservations in Milroy.

Day 2 (Most of Section 7 and 6)

    Day 2 started out beautiful. ("If God is not a Penn State fan, why is the sky blue?").

This second half of 7 (south of US 322) begins with a good sign!

You then enter the beautifully maintained, dark gravel roads of Penn-Roosevelt State Park.

This park leads to beautiful farmland under an azure sky.

The Greenwood Lake Dam, listed on the the National Register of Historic Places signifies the entrance to Greenwood Furnace State Park. "The Pennsylvania Department of Conservation and Natural Resources (DCNR) and its Bureau of Parks as one of 25 Must-See Pennsylvania State Parks".

Turkey Hill Road leads you up into the park and onto one of many ridgelines that cross central PA. You continue into the Rocky Ridge Natural area 

and then descend into a valley of Amish and Mennonite communities and farms.

then, of course, up on to the next ridge from whence you can see the previous ridge!

All of this before descending into Mcveytown, PA, end of 7 and the start of 6!

6 continues the process of crossing central PA from ridge to ridge.

And the MABDR 6, Bridge out detour. Just follow the bypass and you'll be back on track.

And if you stop in just the right spot, you will see the heartfelt monument of a man to his dog.

Before being delivered to the spectacular Tuscarora State Forest!

Then slowly down off the ridges, through the woods to the fields of central PA to Mt. Holly Spring, the end of 6 and the Start of 5. I chose to stay in Carlisle, PA 5 miles North of Mt. Holly Springs.

Day 3 (sections 5 and 4)

    The beginning of 5 is the epitome of adventure riding. You start out in a lovely little town. You turn off the main drag into a neighborhood of well dressed homes on a well paved road. The next turn takes you to slightly more rural homes spread out. there is, perhaps, some loose gravel scattered on the pavement. Another turn takes you to a gentleman farm.

    Beyond that the pavement ends. The forest begins. Mailboxes disappear followed shortly by telephone poles. The wood wraps around you.

    5 passes you off to the Michaux State Forest.

The Michaux State Forest is magnificent. An interesting bit of WW II history.

    I note that portions of the MABDR are mowed! 

From Michaux, the 5 passes you off to the Catoctin Mountain Park, playground of Presidents. The MABDR passes just to the west of Camp David.

From there, the route passes between Wofsville and Myersville, MD. Crow Rock Road was closed for tree pruning that morning so I continued on Wistman Road to Harmony Road and back to MD 17. 

    Of course, Before I could even call the help desk, who should show up? Craig Palen, steward of the MABDR. What fantastic service!

You turn left at St. John Lutheran Church (1790) and continue into Washington Monument State Park

   to the much needed, sight for sore eyes, South Mountain Creamery for a well deserved ice cream!

Onward, now, into West Virginia and to Harper's Ferry along the Potomac. 

Civil War sites dot the route.

4 now takes over from 5. You pass Nelson's Supply Company in Hedgesville, WV. 

Then into the Green Ridge State Forest. 

    You arrive, then, at the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal at OldTown, MD.

Where I am obligated to inform you that the MABDR from North to South is a TOLL ROAD! $0.50!

For this kind of bridge!

And the "Chessie" still runs.

4 is almost entirely paved road. Don't let that discourage you. It is a beautiful route that let's you refresh yourself from the woods.

Day 4 (Section 3)

Ah, the legendary section 3. 3 turns boys into men; newbies into intermediates. It tests your skills and advances them.

You start in the Monongahela National Forest along the banks of branches of the Potomac.

From there, you are handed off to the Washington and Jefferson National Forests in which you will spend the majority of your remaining time on the MABDR.

And, you will hit "first water" (and second, third, ...until you lose count). This was my first time crossing water on a motorcycle. I used a tried and true method. Stop, look, first gear, stand up, second gear, say a prayer blessing all the KTM engineers, close my eyes and gun the throttle. Remarkably successful and useful technique.

3 alternates between small sections of beautifully paved roads and extensive ridgelines of gravel hairpin turns.

And more water.

And then, in the middle of nowhere, a secret government installation.

And, of course, at a tight hairpin, the beer memorial. With flag holder for some ceremony for which UI do not know the date!

Maybe you'd like to try some sandy hairpins? Or a hill climb?

But you descend off the last ridges, onto pavement, a better rider than when you went in.

Day 5(Sections 2 & 1)

2 is a beautiful continuation through the woods and ridges of the Jefferson National Forest. It starts out cloudy and foggy in Covington, VA.

I meet up with legendary biker, Pat McCartin, the proprietor of the Dancing Bear Inn, the unofficial start/end point of the MABDR. 

He gives me a guided tour through 2 and 1 including the famous Tub Run Road. What a wild ride! Puts all the skill learned on 3 to the test.

Pat skillfully dodges thundershowers to the west of the route. We arrive at the Inn.

In the morning, I take leave of the dancing bear and head oput to finish the last bit of 1 we missed the evening before. It is spectacular.

The stone tunnel cut to get timber off the mountain is stunning.

As is the view just before I connect with I-81 to head home.

A spectacularly beautiful trip. I have honed old skills and learned new ones. I have challenged myself and come out (alive and) the better for it. Now, 575 miles of slab to get home where, "my love lies waiting, silently for me".

First Dirt

As I write this, I have about 80,000 motorcycle miles under my belt on 4 bikes. 90% of these miles are on pavement. Most recently, when I tour on my Goldwing, I studiously avoid the unpaved. It is a heavy, comfortable bike designed to eat miles on long trips. It is not meant to wallow in gravel. 

Recently, however, I  was fortunate to acquire a KTM 890 Adventure bike. This bike comes from the legacy of the Paris-Dakar and round-the-world trips through parts of the world where pavement is more absent than present. Personally, I plan to explore the forest and service roads of NY and PA and then perhaps explore the Northeast Backcountry Discovery Route or the Mid-Atlantic Backcountry Discovery Route. But how and where to start. I know how to find roads but how to find the unpaved?

So, to get my dirt legs, so to be speak, I set of for an afternoon mini-adventure. I made up an algorithm. When you come to a road that is in worse condition than the one you are on, take it.

Now, I live at the edge of town, near the NY/PA so I suspected this wouldn't take long. 

Within 5 miles of my house, I found a paved road but one with not insignificant gravel and debris guarding it's orifice. This road wound over a few hills. A great road that even the Goldwing would manage well. 

Another mile and I see an oil and chip road. Oil and chip is the poor man's pavement. A tank truck sprays a thick black oil down and a dump truck follows behind laying an even coat of loose gravel onto the oil. Traffic, with time, will push the stones into the oil making pavement. This takes time and loose gravel, especially at the edges is common.

A mile in, I am completely lost. The middle of nowhere. The pavement ends. This is where the wild things are.

I am surprisingly calm. I would have studiously avoided getting myself into this situation on my touring bikes. Illogically, I think the abilities of the bike will replace my lack of skill. Well, you have to learn sometime.

I switch the bike to off-road mode and forge on. I see another road to my left. It is completely soft with patches of loose, deep sand. It is the Morocco segment of my Paris-Dakar. I take it. It is a construction road.

Perfect. It turns out it leads to a quarry of some kind. 

Heaven. This is the noob's dirt garden. So I spent about a half hour exploring every nook and cranny of the place. It had every kind of off road terrain on which to practice. I couldn't have asked for better.

I left the quarry after a half hour or so, breathing harder than I would have expected. But I can tell you, for sure, there was a dirt eating grin on my face. 

I headed out on the unpaved road, passing deer near state game lands and beavers by brooks.

I continued down to Stanley Lake and before I know it, the pavement is back. 

The deed is done. I have my dirt legs. There are no boundaries, borders or limits. Just road; paved and unpaved. Enjoy the ride.

Opening a new Adventure

     I have ridden motorcycles since 1983 passing from a '74 Honda CB360 

to a '05 Suzuki Boulevard M50 

and then on to a '14 Honda Goldwing.

I have had the pleasure of visiting many parts of the United States and Canada on these motorcycles for a total of about 80,000 miles as of this writing. Some of these journeys are documented elsewhere on this blog.

    Upstate NY, where I currently live is a particularly beautiful place to ride. And yet, the Goldwing, though designed as the ultimate, comfort touring motorcycle, gets a little skittish when the road gets rough. And so, as I ride with my friends, we pass up exploring unpaved roads that meander into the wilderness. I cannot get the thought, "what lies down these trails", out of my head.

    The Bureau of Transportation Statistics, a statistics agency in the Department of Transportation, estimates that, as of 2019, there are approximately, 2.9 million miles of paved roads in the USA; an admirable goal for any biker😀. Yet, they also estimate another 1.2 million miles of unpaved roads! These cannot be ignored!

    In February of 2021, I purchased a new, 2021, KTM 890 Adventure motorcycle with the intent to start exploring some of the more remote countryside.

Adventure motorcycles are designed to handle both paved and unpaved roads. They have a combination of features that provide, if not the best of both worlds, at least the very, very good of both worlds. Riding on unpaved and dirt roads is a new skill to learn. While it looks like a street bike, the techniques for riding on pavement versus dirt change completely, due almost solely to the changing nature of the traction contact between the motorcycle and the ground.

    I started my new learning curve in my local area. My algorithm was to ride down the street and every time I saw a road in worse condition than the one I was on, I took it.

The Difference Between Golf and Chess

I am not much of a golfer but my father, uncle and cousin were terrific golfers. I am not much of a chess player but my grandfather was a champion. In both of these 'games', the difference between champions and pikers is not so much the physical as it is the mental.

In golf, all of the mental energy is focused on the shot you are making right now. The intellectual challenge comes from shaking off the last (bad) shot/hole and not worrying about future challenges. Only the current shot matters; 100% tactics. Get as close to the hole as possible. The best players have a reproducible repertoire of moves for any given context but even those are unrelated to anything other than the current situation. And even the best can mess up, for example 10 strokes on a par 3, just (much) less frequently than the average duffer.

In chess, on the other hand, all of the mental energy is focused on strategy. The best players are thinking 6 or 8 moves ahead. Setting up traps and future feints. Laying defense works. The current move matters but only in the context of a much richer opening, middle game or end game. It is a game of deep research and deep thought (and Deep Blue; sorry I couldn't resist) though in most matches the time of thought is constrained and both plans and decisions must be made under pressure.

This week, while American leadership golfs, we may have had a peek at international chess:
1) On 11/16: Trump Sought Options for Attacking Iran
2) On 11/26: IDF on high alert over possible US strike
3) On 11/27: Iran’s Top Nuclear Scientist Killed in Attack

4) [Edit: 11/28]: If Assassination Fails to Set Back Iran’s Nuclear Program, Blowing Up Deal Is Easy

Because the US National Security Infrastructure shields both national security and national embarrassment, we may never know the truth. Was Trump's suggestion of an attack on Iran just another one of many random golf policy swings by an incompetent President? Or was he influenced in a childlike fashion by Israel or the gallivanting of the much more sly Secretary of State Pompeo through the Middle East. Regardless, the context was set.

Israel probably already had contingencies for lame duck confusion during an incompetent US administration plus/minus popular right wing actions by an indicted prime minister. There is probably a book of chess middle games that includes those very scenarios. Intentionally or inadvertently, therefore, the board is set for Israel to put it's military on alert (something that cannot be done completely without notice) should it wish to take action. Israel even announced it, presumably for the golfers. The country where, "no comment is a comment."

And, then Knight takes nuclear weapons maker. Is there a Nuclear Deal to which Biden can return?

Or, do we think that Pompeo-Kushner-Trump were smart enough to be in on it? That the jet setting about the middle east under cover of 'breakthrough' relations were part of a mis-en-place? The price of a Saudi meeting? The coincident story of  "Jordan scrambles to affirm its custodianship of al-Aqsa mosque" just another red herring, a feint? Do I think our administration capable of this? No. Do I think them capable of lying about it either way? Absolutely. Would I trust an administration response? Absolutely not.

The game continues, the wheel turns. An incompetent, inexperienced, almost childlike, lame duck administration. A Senate ("greatest deliberative body in the World"; ROTFL) and the House, divided, both completely dissociated from each other and their oversight responsibilities. A presidency in the midst of unilateral post-election chaos and unprecedented division of the nation. All of them shielded by our National Security Infrastructure. Dangerous? Uh, yeah.

So, do I relax a bit seeing the cool, calm, confidence of the incoming batch of experienced Cabinet members? A bit. I do, however, want to look into their eyes and ask, "Do you play chess?"

Esther Marcovski Channin

Esther Marcovski Channin

(February 5, 1930 – April 19, 2020)

My mother, Esther Marcovski Channin, passed away, in her sleep, on Sunday, April 19, 2020 כה ניםן  5780), as result of complications from Covid-19. She was 90 years old. I am the proud son of an immigrant refugee. My mother was born in Romania in 1930. In 1939, just a few months before Nazi Germany invaded, my mother and her parents fled to America.

They were the last of our family to escape.  My mother never considered herself a Holocaust survivor but rather an ‘escapee’

After a brief stint in NYC, they settled in Colchester, CT. A small town with a small Jewish community close enough to the cousins in NYC but also to Hartford, CT which was bustling in war effort. My mother began her career as a teacher at the age of 10. Though both of her parents spoke four languages, none of them were English (Russian, Romanian, Yiddish and Hebrew). My mother would come home from American public school and repeat her lessons in English to my grandparents. She would translate the radio broadcasts for them. I have a strong memory of my Zayde’s black transistor radio constantly tuned to CBS Radio News in NYC.

My mother was a stellar student, top of her class, though, in full disclosure, class size was small. Ironically, for an observant, eastern European, Jewish girl, her school was named, “Bacon Academy".

She had one brother, born in Colchester, Norman, sixteen years her junior

, whom she loved dearly. He and his wife made Aliyah to Israel in 1972.

One of the great pleasures of her life was to visit them, their children Ari and Dina and eventually my grandparents on numerous trips to Israel.

She had a profound, lifelong love of the State of Israel.

From Colchester, she went to the University of Connecticut in Storrs. She received a Bachelor’s degree in Education, there, in 1952, and a Master’s in Education, in 1956. She was active in many aspects of student life, running for student office, and other campus organizations.

This was the breeding ground for what would be a lifetime of teaching and scholarship, but also her lifelong activism on behalf of the less fortunate.

She was also, by all accounts, one of, if not the most beautiful Jewish woman on campus.

We have a picture of her in formal wear sitting on the quadrangle lawn with her dress about her that is movie studio beautiful. So, it was not at all surprising that the prettiest Jewish woman on campus met one of the most popular and dashing Jewish jocks, later a swashbuckling air force pilot. They were married in June of 1956. An older cousin of mine, a child at the time, said that she was like a fairy tale, Mary Poppins, magical aunt.

She worked as a middle school teacher 

while earning her Master’s degree and then after marriage to support her husband in medical school. When I was in sixth grade, my mother came to a PTA meeting. I noticed she had a private conversation with my teacher. I later found out that my sixth grade teacher had my mother for sixth grade, years before.

My mother stopped formally teaching to raise three children.

We moved around a bit as my father completed his training but in 1966 we settled in Sharon, Massachusetts where she remained for the rest of her life. She was a fantastic kosher cook mostly learning at her mother’s side, the latter could have easily won three Kosher Michelin stars had such a thing existed.  We ate well, very well, whether at home or on the road at the grandparents; all the Jewish classics and then some, supplemented by 1970s and 1980s ‘new age’ concoctions.

My mother slowly became more observant and a pillar of the conservative and new orthodox Jewish synagogues springing up in the town of Sharon. She developed many close friendships in the Jewish community, many of them lasting until her death. One close friend wrote, "We loved your Mother. She never looked at life as is, but always as it could be.
She battled fearlessly for the vulnerable and the weak in the work place, the schools and the community. She badgered selectmen, congressmen and senators. No one was spared  her voice or pen.
And children. She loved children! She was a pied piper for all our kids. She shepherded them from cradle to fatherhood  sharing in their triumphs in preschool, boy scouts, graduation and Israel."
She volunteered for every community activity. She was a life member of Hadassah (since 1972) and contributed to the best of her abilities to every Jewish charity and institution. We always had a JNF pushke in the house.

In particular, she enjoyed building a Sukkah every year and having the community visit.

Her generosity extended to important non-Jewish causes as well. We were only allowed to go out on Halloween (a goyish holiday) because we would collect money in the orange, cardboard, UNICEF pushkes

(but she let us keep any kosher candy we got on the side). For several years, she drove us 45 minutes each way to attend yeshiva. She lived a life that was the epitome of Torah, chessed and tzedakah.

After my parents’ divorce, she returned to work as a guidance counselor and tutor. Yes, she was a guidance counselor in my high school while I was a student there, with the resultant stunting of any misbehavior on my part. She was a founder of an alternative high school for talented, creative teens who didn't flourish in traditional educational structures. She was active in the P.T.A and the School Board and a regular contributor of Letters to the Editor of the local paper whenever she felt the local politicians strayed from their duty, especially to students and the handicapped. She was also active in the local chapter of the League of Women Voters and several other civic organizations.

When the second wave of deinstitutionalization of mental health patients came to Massachusetts in the 1970s, my mother worked for the State, as a social worker, to place these individuals in the community. She mastered IQ and other testing with her in house guinea pigs. She was a champion for the disabled and the mentally ill and fought injustice wherever she could find it.

In later years, she lived alone. Her house was filled with books and the many local libraries became a second home to her wherever she lived. Among many other collections, she had a complete, eleven volume set of “The Story of Civilization”, by Will and Ariel Durant and to this day, I am convinced she is the only one to have read it cover to cover. She enjoyed modern Jewish philosophical texts and lectures as well as the social sciences.

She lived to see many milestones of her children

and four beloved grandchildren (Tali, Yoni, Joshua and Arielle) as well as her niece and nephew (Ari and Dina). She saw them all grow into fine young adults. In the end, she was taken by the Covid-19 pandemic. It was not surprising or really unexpected given that she was living in a nursing home and with her high risk co-morbidities.

What is ironic is that her last and deepest wish, to be buried alongside her family in Israel, will be delayed for just a little bit longer.

An American Jew

I am an American Jew, American...Jew.  I am the son of a Romanian immigrant refugee. My mother came to the USA at the age of 9 with her parents in 1939, just a few months before Germany invaded. My grandfather sold a working farm for three boat tickets and considered himself to have gotten the best part of the deal. I have heard tales of pogroms, antisemitism and the ultimate antisemitism, the Holocaust since the day I was born; first in Yiddish then English.

I saw antisemitism, first hand, as a kid, when the goyim in a small Connecticut town harassed my grandfather because his name was Chaim ("Life" in Hebrew; unfortunately, Haimy, in English). Like many of his generation he was a self made success (a story I am writing for another day). They would key his car and bend his license plate (within 500' of a state police barrack). I'm sure they were just trying  to thank him for escaping the Holocaust to teach himself to be a machinist so he could make aircraft engine parts for Pratt and Whitney during the War. Everyone of my grandfather's generation in America had stories of anti-semitic acts against them, their families and friends. It didn't bother them because they knew it could be much, much worse. The opportunity in America outweighed many a small evil.

My father (another great story for another day) was born in Connecticut into a small Jewish community (The Hartford Jews in between the NY Jews and the Boston Jews). He, too, was bullied in anti-semitic fashion but grew up to be a tough kid. With his brother, they could take care of themselves.

I, in my turn, was bullied as a kid, mostly not because I was Jewish, but because millions of kids were bullied every year in America even before the Internet. But, hey, let's throw on some anti-semitism. Slowly, I, too, developed my defensive skills. Skills I have honed them to this day.

We would hear of antisemitic acts around the country; but rarely close to home or to a degree to raise concerns. There has been a baseline of antisemitic acts in the USA since its inception. There are peaks and valleys to the activity. For the most part, at least in my youth, we were much more concerned about the safety of Israel than our own.

Regardless of how you feel about Israel and its politics, however, today, any attack on a known-to-be-Jew outside of Israel, is an act of antisemitism until proven otherwise. (In Israel, it's a bit more complicated in that an attack could be ordinary crime, antisemitic in nature, anti-Zionist, domestic terrorism, foreign terrorism or act of war. It is important to distinguish these cases.) Let me repeat, however, any attack on a known-to-be-Jew outside of Israel, is automatically an act of antisemitism until proven otherwise.

These cannot and will not be tolerated. We will not accept collective punishment for your misconceptions about our religion, its role in our society or your perceived injustices of Israeli politics. Those may be topics for discussion, debate, boycotts and protests, but never violence. 

On the day I am writing this, of course, there was another deadly shooting in a church. An equally heinous act that should disturb the American population as much as the kosher deli shooting in NJ or the stabbing last night in Monsey. I am not sure it does. All hate crimes are on the rise in these divisive times. They stimulate discussion around gun control, but not (yet) around 'hatred control'. Of important note in the Texas church shooting, "Parishioners acted to prevent further deaths". 

 As Jews, we are the people of the book ( referring to the Torah, the Prophets, and Other Writings, in Hebrew abbreviated as the 'Tanach') and, therein, the 10 commandments. Traditionally, we are, indeed, quiet, bookish, well educated, introspective, and communal (living within walking distance of the synagogue and short driving distance to kosher food).

It is is important, however, especially for anyone considering antisemitic acts in the USA, to note that as Americans, we are also people of the Constitution and its bill of rights, therein, especially, the 1st and 2nd. For that document, is the difference between antisemitism in the USA and, for example, France. Their only option is to flee to Israel as they have done in large numbers for the past decade or more.

That is not the American way. We stand our ground. We are not your grandfather's Jew.

Never again means never again.

ST: Discovery: Not a fan

For me, it is almost exactly 52 years since I first watched Star Trek as a 6 year old. My initial memory is of being scared by the aliens. Of course, I gradually fell in love with it and its credo has had a not insignificant impact on my life; second, perhaps, only to my Jewish faith. As a fan, I, of course, enjoyed the subsequent spinoffs, notably, as most would agree, TNG.
As an adult, a physician and scientist with some experience in writing non-fiction science, I admire, greatly, the imagination and creative juices of not only the Star Trek writers but others in the realm of science fiction and fantasy. Some of these, Roddenberry, Tolkien, Bradbury, Clarke and Asimov (just to name a few) are etched in my memory as in a cathedral to greatness.
STD, though I use that moniker not at all casually, makes me appreciate that greatness of imagination even more so. We have talents producing science fiction and films, today, but they pale in imagination compared to that previous generation. I am not a huge fan of the term, "the greatest generation", but, perhaps, it plays here.
What prompted the creators and writers to go back to the decade before TOS? Lack of imagination. Why did they feel the need to bring new ST tech and new, real world CGI back to the time before? "We will never use holographic projectors on the Enterprise again", said no real captain anywhere. Literary device to cover lack of imagination. Why was it necessary to tie Burnham to Spock? Could she not have stood on her own as an ST lead? Why create a war with the Klingons (season 1) that did not have reference in any other timelines. Why reinvent the Klingons appearance rather than create something new? Even the concept of the Terran universe taken from TOS: Mirror. Why introduce even more technology into a timeline where we now it doesn't exits? The red angel suit: ironman. Even some of Burnham's kneeling positions are taken from Ironman. Why? Lack of imagination. The finale? A Star Wars (gasp!) look alike. Time crystals? Really? Can you spell Deus ex machina? (What's wrong with a good old hyperbolic trajectory toward the Sun?)
Don't get me wrong, there some moments of goodness but few of greatness. I did like Like and number 1. But if you wanted to do a TOS Enterprise prequel you'd had to have focused on story and not tech. Can't do that? Then don't. The spore drive? Good. But it doesn't fit in the timeline so a distraction. I could go on.
The worst part is that, at the end of season 2, we now know that the abuse of the TOS timeline was just a setup for season 3. Well, that, for me, will be only the first test of their creativity and imagination. And even then, they will have to convince me that couldn't have launched season 3 without a more creative introduction.

New England and the Canadian Maritimes - 2018 Foliage Run - Day 6 - 267 miles - Bar Harbor to Moncton, NB

3-179-9-Canada-1-2. Pics and vids to follow.

New England and the Canadian Maritimes - 2018 Foliage Run - Day 5 - Mt. Desert Island, Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park

Pics and vids to follow

New England and the Canadian Maritimes - 2018 Foliage Run - Day - Portland to Bar Harbor, 160 miles

The theme for today is, "chiiiilllly". The bike says the air temp this morning is 50°F! I say, "Yikes!" I am wearing my riding boots, heavy wool socks, long underwear, insulated jeans, wicking undershirt and underpants, heavy sweater and my Guideware jacket with a balaclava. Actually, with all this, I am quite comfortable. The temp slowly rises to 55 and we end the riding day at 4 PM at 57. Having dealt with the temp, the riding is otherwise spectacular! We leave Portland on 295 North but pick up Rt. 1, "coastal route" at Brunswick. We continue up the coast to Bar Harbor. Again spectacular seascapes and foliage. Each section of the road is better than the last. The small towns of Rockland and Rockport and Camden are beautiful. Lots of great pictures and video to follow.

New England and the Canadian Maritimes - 2018 Foliage Run - Day 3 - Sharon to Portland, ME

Our luck is running good. Sunday starts out overcast but warm; over 70. Rain is forecast for later in the day, but for now, the heavy shirt is enough. We ride toward and around Boston on 95. It is pleasantly warm. There is remarkably little traffic and it is one of the most pleasant passages around  Boston I have yet to experience. We are in Portsmouth, NH before we know it. 

Once over the Piscataqua bridge into Maine, we leave 95 for 103 and the Maine coast. This is the quintessential tour of the SE Maine coast and Rivka is enjoying the sights, sounds and especially smells along the way. 

We stop at the very scenic and photogenic, Fort McClary State Historic Site. A lovely place to get the feel of Maine.

 As it is a long weekend, the small towns along the way are filled with tourists queueing in the crab shacks and fish markets for their lobster rolls. The tang of the sea and seaweed is all around us as is a fine mist. It remains warm enough to ride in shirt sleeves. Maine-iacs from all over the east coast are in wet suits surfing and boogey-boarding in a fairly rough chop. It is a classic day at the shore.

 As we move north, the foliage is presenting itself in bright patches of red, orange, yellow and green. Wenlook forward to more foliage to come. The pictures and videos will be spectacular (to follow). This  after the more muted early fall colors of Massachusetts and New Hampshire. 

We continue up the coast to Kennebunkport (no sign of 41) and on to our hotel in S. Portland. Aftee a brief rest, we tour the Old Port neighborhood which has been beautifully gentrified. We end our evening with our picnic dinner at Loring Memorial Park overlooking Portland's back cove. A great day and a great ride. 141 miles:  Sharon to Portland. Tomorrow, on to Bar Harbor.

New England and the Canadian Maritimes - 2018 Foliage Run - Days 1&2

We begin on a cloudy and cool morning in Vestal. Last minute packing is done and we head out. I am riding Xray2, the GoldWing. I have the luxury, this trip, of my companion in her SUV. It is about 55 degrees. I am comfortable in my insulated jeans, heavy shirt and insulated Cabela's Guidewear jacket. We advance up 81 North out of Binghamton picking up 88 to the Northeast. Halfway to Albany we transition from partly cloudy to partly sunny arriving at mostly sunny as we cross into Massachusetts on the Mass Pike. The foliage along 88, although spectacular as scenery, has yet to change color much. We will have to see if this changes on the way back. The ride through Massachusetts is pleasant though we hit inevitable traffic that makes us commit to the Connecticut route for subsequent trips. We arrive tired but satisfied in Sharon for a visit with the folks. Saturday will be a rest day with them. 331 miles: Vestal to Sharon.