Author: Layne Rodney

Talking to Strangers

I like to talk to strangers.  When I was young, I was very shy and would never reach out to strangers.

Walking ten miles every day I run in to a lot of people.  However, it is hard to actually talk to strangers. Heck it is hard just to get people to say hi back to me when I greet people.

Last week I was able to talk to five strangers on my walk. I initiated each talk, and they responded so well.

The walk was at Bear Mountain State Park and the trail that I was walking on was the Appalachian Trail. The five strangers were all hiking the entire trail.

They had all started in Georgia and had walked over 1,000 miles already.  The fastest walker had done it in 95 days.  The slowest was 120 days. One walker lived in Washington State and had also walked the Pacific Trail. I told one hiker that my grandson and I had looked up the record for walking the Appalachian Trail and it was 46 days.  He told me that the hiker had help in that his wife met him every night and had the camp set up which allowed him to walk more than most hikers each day.

All the hikers enjoyed telling us about their adventures. When I mentioned the was a restaurant and lodge at the bottom of mountain they knew and two were planning to spend the night there.

I find that once you can get strangers to open up, they enjoy talking about themselves and I enjoy hearing their stories.

Life is good for me. I am healthy. I spend a large part of my day walking every day. The vistas I see every day are just great.

As I walk all over Stamford, I do see life on the edge sometimes.  Actually, every day. Within one mile of my house are plants that are living on the edge. It is not some exotic plant barely surviving. The trees I see. are a maple and oak tree.

Look at them. The oak seems to look fine. It should be bigger. It has been around for years. I wonder who will win the struggle. The oak or the rock.

Look at the maple.  How did it pull that off. Living on an oak tree. Somehow it must have been able to tap into the oaks capillary system and get nourishment.  By the way, I measured the oaks diameter and by using a formula I was able to estimate the age of the tree. This oak is over two hundred years old.

If you want to see  really old and big oaks there are two in the area. The Bedford oak and a oak in Darien. The plaque in Darien says the tree was around during the American Revolution.

Keep your eyes on the lookout. There are many places of life on the edge in Stamford.

I just discovered that Mystic, CT is a great walking town. Not only is it a great walking town but you don’t need a car to drive to it from Stamford.

I rode the rails to get to Mystic. The Amtrak train left Stamford at 8:33 in the morning and I stepped off the train in Mystic at 10:30. Just under two hours.  Driving would have saved me twenty minutes if there would be no traffic.  Of course, that is an oxymoron.

The walk from the train station to Mystic Seaport Museum is fifteen minutes. The Seaport Museum is always interesting.

There are many sailing ships to see, and the volunteers were able to answer my many questions.

Then I was off to the Mystic Aquarium and Mystic Shopping Village. The walk also took only fifteen minutes.

They have five Beluga whales and over thirty penguins among their many species of sea creatures.

Now it was off to the quaint village of Mystic.  There are many shops and restaurants to visit.

Finally, it was back to the train station for the ride home.  I think the train ride between New Haven and Mystic is one of the most viewable rides around.  You have saltwater marshes everywhere with lots of birds.  Long Island Sound appears quite often.  Crossing the Thames River at New London you can always hope to see a submarine.

The total time for the trip was less than twelve hours. That includes walking from my house to the Stamford train station.  I had six hours at Mystic.  If you wanted to spend the night at Mystic, there are plenty of Inns and B and Bs

Today’s walk was going to be my usual walk to downtown Stamford. The unusual started even before I left the house.

I noticed looking out the window a police officer had parked their cruiser on Silver Hill Road 60 feet from the intersection and the stop sign. Nothing unusual yet. The police often stop there for a few minutes. I watched one car come to the stop sign and it actually stopped, then another car stopped at the stop sign. A third car came to the stop sign and the driver did not stop. Not good. As they drove past the police car it turned on the flashing lights and pulled them over. I thought, did they not see the police car there. It was good seeing the police enforce the law.  Very few people stop at stop signs these days in Stamford.

Then on to my walk. Walking down Summer Street I crossed over to Broad Street and headed East.

I must say I did not expect to see a statue of the dancing Hippo at the library.  It is quite imposing. The hippo will be joined later by painted duck statues in June. You should try to see the display sometime this summer.

Okay, my afternoon walk is to Harborside and Kosciusko Park. As I approached Harborside I saw a large mast sticking out. I thought it must be an old sailing vessel. It was.

The boat is the Amistad and is a replica of the original. The original Amistad was a slave boat and the slaves revolted and ended up in New Haven. There was a court case that went up to the Supreme Court for a decision.  There is a movie about the boat.

Finally, I headed to the train station to take the bus home.  The bus 331 was late. It is always late at this time of day. I took bus 333 and had to walk a different way from the bus stop.  Almost home and my last discovery.

I am always finding money and the dime was the icing on the cake today.

Another day of walking lies ahead.  What will I discover tomorrow?

No, I am not leaving the blog. However, I have to say goodbye to my hat. My hat has served me well for many years. It kept me warm in the winter. It kept the sun off my face.

More importantly it allowed people to reach out to me. Almost every day someone would say I like your hat, or you look like Indiana Jones or a cowboy. It was a great way for people to open conversations with me.

I realize that people are looking for ways to talk to someone. My hat was the icebreaker.

Alas my hat wore out and I had to say goodbye.

I have a new hat. Hopefully it will draw the same attention as my old hat.

The other day I decided to take the train to New Canaan.  I have many different paths to walk home from New Canaan. I can walk to Darien and take the train. I can take the back roads to Stamford.  There are many beautiful houses and nature to enjoy on the walk.  That day I decided to walk to Pound Ridge, New York.

This is where walking home comes into play.  I was born in Stamford, CT. But I grew up in Pound Ridge  and lived there until I got married. My walk would consist of me going home and I planned to walk by the house I grew up in.

Pound Ridge is a big town and we lived right on the New Canaan border. Walking to Pound Ridge on Oenoke Road was like walking on memory lane. I

was a teenager when this wall was assembled.  The house was the weekend house for the mayor of Mexico City.  There was a house that had solar heating built in the 1950’s

I approached Barnegat Road. The road I grew up on.  There is a church and a

graveyard at the beginning of the street.  As a child my mother would walk us all the time to the church.  There was also a working farm at the time when I was a child.

Walking down the road my thoughts go to the people and houses that were an integral part of my life. There is a sloping yard where the Fossil’s barn was.  It caught on fire and burned to the ground.

The house I grew up in has been expanded dramatically since my mother sold the house.  It just not the same anymore.

But there is the rock.  My brother and sister and I would climb this rock all the time when we were living in Pound Ridge.  I even taught my daughters to climb the rock when we visited my parents.

After passing my house I continued to Stamford and finally caught the bus at the Fire House on High Ridge Road.  Next to the fire house was a house with a store attached to it.  The store is empty now.  When I was a child, my father would go to the store often with me. Usually, we would make the trip when we spent the whole day shoveling snow from our driveway.

It was a nice walk going home.  I have driven by my old house often.  Walking is so much better. You have time to bring up the old memories and reminisce about them.

The other day I had a good day walking. The morning walk consisted of walking to downtown Stamford.  From there I took the bus to Glenbrook and proceeded to walk to Springdale.

I then headed back to my house going by Sleepy Hollow Park.  I envy the people living on the east side of the park.  They have no cut thru traffic. It must be nice to live on a quiet street in Springdale.

That afternoon I walked up to Trader Joe’s. I was on the lookout for nice plants and a different soy sauce. No luck on either.

I then decided to go downtown and see if the Japanese store Maruichi might have some different soy sauce. They did. I bought an aromatic soy sauce. A nice change in taste.

At that point I have walked over twelve miles and I am going to take the bus home. It is fifteen minutes until the bus arrives. 

I am not one to stand around and wait.  I start walking again and plan on catching the bus a couple of stops closer to home.

I am waiting for the light to turn green.  The bus stop is just on the other side of the road and I have two minutes till the bus arrives.  As I cross the road the bus 331 passes me by. Just tragic, all my calculations for nothing.  The next bus is twenty minutes away.

I started walking again. I really did not feel like walking the last mile and half to get home but I did not want to stand around.

One minute into the walk I heard a horn honk. I look back to see why the person is honking.  I am gathering information on why there is so much honking in Stamford.

It was my bus 331 the driver saw me and she knew I wanted to catch the bus and let me know she was passing me.  I waved and ran to the bus stop and joyfully sat down on the bus. Triumph snatched from Tragedy. The Stamford Bus Drivers are the best.  They are always looking out for me and my fellow passengers

These two pictures represent the last of winter hopefully and the beginning of growing season.

The snow is at the parking lot of Stop and Shop in Stamford and the Oak and Cherry trees are on High Ridge Road.

I will be posting these two spots every third day.  We can watch the progress of leaves and flowers arrive.  We can also see when the last of the snow melts.

Today is March 28^th.  I am going to venture a guess that the snow will be gone in two weeks.

As I walk all over Stamford, I observe a lot.  The sights and sounds of Stamford run the gamut from amazing to dumb and dumber.

Unfortunately, I do see a lot of dumb things. Car drivers making right turns from the left lane. Pedestrians crossing High Ridge Road and being stuck in the middle waiting for traffic to clear.

The other day I truly saw dumb and dumber twice within two minutes.

I am at Bridge St and Washington Blvd waiting to cross Bridge St. The left turn signal on Bridge St is green.  The car in front does not move.  The car behind the front car pulls left into the oncoming traffic lane and passes the stopped car.  Dumb. Now the dumber part.  The first car was a police vehicle.  The police officer now makes the left turn and pulls the first car over. I don’t think the driver got a ticket. They both left within a minute of being pulled over.

Now the second dumb incident.  I am waiting to cross Washington Blvd and I see a person with a fidgeting dog crossing Washington Blvd because there was no traffic on their side.  Of course, they get stuck in the middle because traffic is coming the other way. I don’t get it, why do people do dumb things. I also caught up to them within two hundred feet.  They risked their safety for what. Five seconds saved.

The Glass House is behind the stonewall.  The Glass House was designed by Philip Johnson, a world-famous architect. This building was his weekend retreat.

The structure is located in New Canaan CT and you are able to take tours of the house and grounds from April to November.

I have not taken the tour yet. However every time I walk this area I take a peek at the house.