Matthew Dickerson: Rail trails and swallowtails

We had not been on the trail for more than a few minutes peddling up a hill west of Gorham when the first tiger swallowtail appeared, fluttering up from the forest understory—or perhaps from some wet sand where it had been licking salt — and out in front of our bicycles.

The bike trip started with seven miles of continuous downhill—and quite a bit more if we’d had the time to continue all the way to St. Johnsbury. But we had to turn around. And that’s what made me a little nervous, because those seven miles of downhill al … (read more)