Great Atlantic Seaboard Bicycyle Tour: Kamp Keberle: Day 4 9/22 20 car miles; 8 walking miles

The day started slowly at Kamp Keberle. Ryan and Erica, who had driven back to the city yesterday morning made it back to Kamp by eleven. Breakfast (And lunch) was on our own. Major Jacks (Erica's business moniker) finally gave us the true fifteen minute warning sometime after noon. Using us as potential customers, Major Jacks took us on a walking tour of Smallwood, a potential site for her next deal. Her grandfather on her morher's side was a major in the army and obviously his name was Jack. Not so obvious was his hobby as a wheeler and dealer. He is quoted as saying, "The only thing I don't buy used is toilet paper." It was regular business for him to buy ten or twelve lawn mowers, tinker with them until they worked, and turn a tidy profit selling them from his front lawn as they lined the sidewalk like cash on wheels. And it seems he would wheel and deal on just about anything. Erica, who sat at his side like an eager apprentice, learned much from him. Just yesterday she took a trunk of junk she salvaged from her "flipper" house and traded it for what she calls, "Two hunks of treasure". From now on, I'll just refer to our young tycoon as Major Jacks. The walk through Smallwood, a laking community complete with a community center, private lake access, and a kid friendly neighborhood, could be very appealing to the right buyer. Major Jacks was doing her leg work and Ed and I got our steps in for the day. Along the way I met another "best" human of the day: Ulysses Oestrich, a seventeen year old senior who has lived in Smallwood his whole life with a great smile and an even better attitude, happily stopped to chat with me. I asked him what the best thing about living in Smallwood was and he instantly replied, "The fishing." He says he and his Dad roam the area's lakes together (Kind of a Norman Rockwell scene). Full of hope, he says he plans to attend Suny College next year to major in Environmental Science. Later, I went along with Erica so she could practice riding her horse. I sat by an outdoor fire, blissful in the crispness of the late afternoon, just mildly bothered by the flies buzzing my legs (A small price to pay for such a pleasant place to enjoy life). After the Major brushed and washed her horse, Zahara, we arrived back at Kamp Keberle, floating on the aroma of roasted duck served on a bed of potatoes, carrots and beets beside a salad of fresh greens. What a life! It's no tongue in my cheek to say that life is good, especially today.

One nice space in the edge of Smallwood Lake.

Another, and perhaps the art shot of rhe day.

Hoop Heaven.

Dad and the Major in front of potentially her next project.

Ever busy, Major Jacks, e-mailing a client back in the city.

Ulysses Oestrich. He didn't know if his parents were Homer fans (Or James Joyce), but I told him in thirty-one years of teaching I'd never had a student named Ulysses. Great kid.