Today began with a sighting of three black crowned night herons at the pond that I pass on my morning run. Often, I've spotted one heron, but this is the first time I've seen three. A harbinger of a good day ahead.
Even though the day would be hot, my friend and I stuck with our plan to ride a section of the Paulinskill Valley Rail Trail from Blairstown to Stillwater. The trail runs alongside a tributary of the Delaware River through lush woods and farmland. http://www.traillink.com/trail/paulinskill-valley-trail.aspx
It's about a 9 mile stretch to reach the Stillwater General Store. Except for the flat screen television that faces the deli counter, the store could be from 1950. We left our left our bikes out front, unlocked, and went in to get something to eat. Patrons can get a sandwich, order fresh pizza, get their mail, a few lottery tickets, and sit on a bench out front. We ordered an egg sandwich and then went outside to sit on one of the benches. While we were eating, a mother and son walked across the street. The boy, approximately age 7, was not wearing a shirt so his mom told him he had to wait outside while she went inside the store. He waited on the other bench until she came out a few minutes later with a pizza box.
On the way back to Blairstown, my eye was attracted to a small truck attached to a carrier filled with racks of horseshoes. A clanging in the nearby barn caused me to walk over and watch as a horse got a new pair of shoes. I asked the farrier how he learned to shoe horses, and he responded that he learned as an apprentice, and had been working with horses since 1993. While he was able to make the shoes, he said nowadays he ordered from a catalog an inch thick that had every size shoe and any special needs imaginable. He told us that in the summer, a horse would need new shoes every six weeks, since the hoof grew like a person's nail. So, the shoe is removed, the hoof clipped, and new shoes put on. I commented that this sounded like a pedicure for the horse! http://www.soundhorse.com/
Once we reached Blairstown, it was time for a sandwich at Dale's, a stop at the German butcher to bring home chops and pork cutlets, and a visit to the local art gallery and book store. Not much had changed since my last visit there a few years ago. The bookstore has a new owner, the Dairy Queen has a new name. But that small-town trust remains as true as ever.
