Art Pepin had a big personality, was affable in the extreme: a raconteur; a crooner — he loved to sing and recite whole poems from memory (Frost’s “Birches,” for example). He said he was in the “business of making friends.”
We now have a Vermonter in the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.
My wife and I bought our seasons passes for the Rikert Nordic Center today. In truth, it was more of a step of hope than one based on the present reality.
When the note came across my computer that the college was shutting down early for the holiday break, the Thursday before the last day of classes and the week prior to exams, I was dismayed.
The idea of wilderness survival is certainly appealing to me, mostly because wilderness itself is appealing.
There have been many great athletes from Middlebury Union High School over the decades, and Ken Burton has to be in the very top tier.
“Any luck?” It’s a common question one hears when fishing. I’m sure I’ve asked it as often as I’ve heard it.
Heart. Determination. Relentlessness. Effort. Caroline Leary Dowd, class of 1992 at Middlebury College, had all these capabilities in abundance.
I don’t remember the exact year when I first drilled holes in the ice and set up tip-ups, beginning a longstanding tradition of ice fishing in Maine the first few days of every new year.
What is perhaps most striking about Dave Saward’s soccer career is his “coaching tree,” that is, the extraordinary number of his players who have decided to pursue a career in coaching and have succeeded at such a high level.
We parked the Jeep on the edge of the old unmaintained Class VI road running through the town forest.
Nine years before his crowning achievement at Bates, Dave Morey’s Middlebury team “defeated” the other national powerhouse, Harvard, 6-6, before 25,000 fans in Harvard Stadium.
The chill air bit into our hands and cheeks as we reached the far shore of the lake and turned the canoe into the wind. “Let’s be careful,” my wife said.
At the annual gathering of the Outdoor Writers Association of America, I signed up for fly fishing on the Clyde River, a tributary of the transnational Lake Memphremagog.
Last Saturday, I ventured to the Middlebury-Bates football game, the first athletic event at the college I have attended in more than year and a half.
