Great Atlantic Seaboard Bicycyle Tour: Kamp Keberle: Day 5 9/23 100 car miles; 6 walking miles

If it gets any slower here at the deliriously delicious Kamp Keberle, they'll be scraping moss off of ever flattening butts. We didn't get our marching orders until well after noon. Major Jacks had a full morning on the computer drafting sales prospectus sheets, setting up meetings, consultations, and otherwise readying herself for yet another "helluvadeal" as her Grandpa Cookies used to say. Ryan, not one to let the moss grow also worked much of the day in what seems to be his regular routine of composing, lining up gigs, answering emails, practicing his trombone (Several times actually-quite a treat to hear), working out with weghts and yoga, and probably a few things I didn't catch. Edwardo managed a few siestas, quite a bit of reading, and took the day off from walking. He's saving himself for tomorrow when he's my Guide Boy in the city. We did manage to eat some thin gruel as a late lunch, a quite spectacular bacon chicken ranch pizza on thin crust created by a dangerously close eatery just three miles away (And they deliver). We've quite literally jumped off the fitness wagon, which could turn out OK since we'll likely land on the cushion of our fat butts. While Ed read and snoozed, I walked up, over, and around enjoying another simply stunning fall day. There's a horse farm that "ain't no ways from here" called Three Friends Farm whose outlandish sign caption reads, "Where too much isn't enough". Their property is opulent, rimmed with tall white fence along the front of the property and protected from intrusion by a deep wooded grotto at the rear. I couldn't see the houses, barns, or out buildings from the road (The No Tresspassing Signs and Security Cameras didn't seem all that welcoming), but I could see the large sculpture garden which borders the front of the property and the tennis courts just inside the main gate. I did risk a short encroachment onto their property to get better angles for my photos. The bottom line: It's fabulous. Best humans of the day are a Jewish couple married 58 eight years (According to Irwin) and 57 (According to Fran). They live just down the road and Major Jacks was doing a consultation in advance of their home sale. They are a hoot. Imagine every Jewish Idiom and every New York slang phrase you can, mush them into the New York twang of two very glib eighty somethings, wrap it in a matza ball of neighborhood gossip and their you have it. What can I tell you. Fran and I talked knee replacement sugery (By her own admission, she's a tough old Bitch). Irwin talked fishing, kids, and whateva. I didn't ask them for a photo because they were observing Yom Kippur today, but that didn't stop them from being gracious hosts. I think I'd still be kibitzing with them if Erica hadn't had a horse riding lesson. ("Please. Do you see what I'm dealing with here? I'm married 57 years to this man. I don't know how. It will get betta.") What a joy and what a treat for me, a language guy to hear of a world I can't imagine. Irwin was amazed my wife woukd let me go away for over two minths. He says, "I couldn't leave Franny for that long because I couldn't stand to kiss her goodbye". Makes me want to hop a plane. Right now, Ryan is fixing a lean and mean steak salad to off set our lavish lunch. He and I just sat in the sauna and then dove into the quite clean and ever so refreshing Swinging Bridge Resevoir. God willing we should roll into the Bronx sometime before midnight. I must say, life is probably pretty good up here at Kamp Keberle most days, but it's been especially good today.

Our last morning at Kamp. What a glorious day.