Writer's Notebook - James Rafferty Blog

Rolling on the Cape Cod Rail Trail

The sky is a pure blue, with bare hints of cirrus and streaks of white written by jet fuel as if viewed upon a global spectroscope. I sit at a picnic table by my hotel, beneath a canopy of twisted pine limbs and an overspread of maple and oak trees above. Across the way, I see glimpses of bicycle riders as they roll silently by. It's a Cape Cod morning and it's already been a fine day. 

My wife and I are staying for a long weekend at a hotel located strategically by the Cape Cod Rail Trail. We had a relaxing start to the day, taking in the continental breakfast offered by the hotel. Once fortified by coffee, juice and light food items such as muffins and fresh bananas, we were ready for the next step.  

I took my time and had a nice chat with a neighbor from a nearby room; like me, he has a background in the telecom world, so we briefly compared notes about the transition from that work into some form of semi-retirement. Both of us were getting ready for a bike ride, but at a leisurely pace.  

I listened to the last minutes of the Saturday edition of CBS This Morning, hearing an energetic song of gospel inflected blues rock performed by Mavis Staples and her band, and pulled together my supplies for the bike ride.  Some fifteen minutes later, I was ready. By this time, the reader may wonder, is there a point to this post or will it simply meander. To which I'd say, that's one of the joys of a visit to Cape Cod; there's no schedule, no need to rush out or, for example, to roll up 50 miles on one's bike. But yes, let's begin the tale of the bike ride. 

I got onto my bike and rode a short way on a path through the woods. Moments later, my tires hit the pavement of the path. I turned right and headed south in the direction of Orleans. I haven't been riding a lot this spring, but as I rode down the path, my leg muscles felt limber. I enjoyed picking up speed and feeling mild breezes brush against my face and legs. Just last evening, we'd experienced fierce winds at sunset, but that phase of weather had passed. Since I felt very good, I decided to push ahead and see how much ground I could cover in about twenty minutes on the trail  For those who want to track mileage. stone markers appear at every mile and identify which town you're in and how many miles you are from the start of the trail in Dennis. 

Most of my ride was in the town of Eastham. Sights include the back side of the local transfer station, which now doubles as a massive solar farm, vestiges of departed businesses such as a fully overgrown golf driving range and a diverse variety of different micro eco-systems. On my way out, I was content to move along past all of that, but planned to view the trail-side flora and fauna more closely upon my return.  So I rode and rode.  The trail wasn't too crowded.  I saw one large group of teenagers in matching tee shirts, most likely a scout troop, various walkers, the occasional jogger and of course, bikers coming to and fro. My journey continued, past some of my favorite small lakes and ponds, across numerous intersections and the miles rolled up. 

As I approached my twenty minute goal, I decided to continue until I hit a major cross street. As luck and my route would have it, I naturally hit a stretch where there were no cross streets. I continued on, but noted how the terrain had changed to a mix of swamps and green lowlands;the scent of decaying vegetation filled the air. Finally, I saw an indication of incline on the trail just ahead. I continued until I reached that point, which led onto a bridge that crossed over into the town of Orleans. I'd taken that particular ride last year, but decided It was time to stop and begin my return back. My outbound ride had expanded from twenty to twenty-six minutes. I scanned the map at trail-side; the spot I'd stopped at branched off the trail to a road that led to Rock Harbor. Years ago, this had all been part of the rail trail, but a relatively new set of bridges and interconnections built since then now totally bypasses that segue.    

As I rolled down the hill, I noticed a mile marker and pulled my bike to a stop. The mark showed I'd reached the town of Orleans: 

And so the slower and more observant return began. I soon reached a group of elder women who were taking a walk and I guessed they'd be knowledgeable about the local birds. I was right. One woman quickly identified a white bird in the nearby marsh to be an egret and another called attention to a massive nest atop a power line tower:  

The nest, atop the middle stanchion, was the home of a large Osprey. The bird itself was perched on the top of the left tower. Quite a sight and one I wouldn't have noticed on my own. I passed along my thanks, bid adieu to the women and continued down the path.  

Along the way, I saw several of the lakes and ponds I'd passed on the way out.  

By now, my muscles were getting a bit sore, but I carried on toward my goal. Near where I began, a large stone marks a distance where the trail is 100 miles from Boston.  Here's a glimpse of when I reached that point.  

After this stop, I circled back to my hotel and concluded a perfect morning by writing about the journey. If you like nature and are visiting Cape Cod, be sure to check out the wonderful Cape Cod Rail Trail.  

 

Quad Stage Magic at Newport Jazz

One of the aspects of the Newport Jazz Festival which really works well is the multiple stage concept. True, it often seems like two groups you've just got to see are playing at the same time, but you can always split your time if you're really intent on seeing both acts.  

Newport normally has three stages, but this year a fourth smaller indoor venue was added. The main Fort stage often has the headliners, but sometimes the best action is on the other stages. My favorite tends to be the Quad Stage. Here, one walks through the walls of the fort (yes, there is still a Fort Adams) and arrives on an open field with a long tent set up to the right.  The stage is at the back of the tent, near the fort walls, but the tent also extended over a seating area with folding chairs, lawn seating and standing room along the sides.  In this more intimate venue, it's easier to see the musicians and the scale is much more manageable for all. 

After sitting in the sun for two hours on a hot Saturday afternoon, making my way into a shaded tent seat sounded like a great idea. I caught the very end of a set performed by a unique vocalist -- Jose James. His sound clustered with rap speed and a vocal style that reminded me of singers as diverse as Al Jarreau and Gil Scott Heron. After he finished, I sidled over to the folding chairs and settled into an aisle side seat. In about twenty minutes, the next act, the Hiromi Trio Project was ready to begin.  

My oldest son Jason is a huge Hiromi fan and he introduced me to her music at Newport a few years back. Hiromi is a young Japanese pianist who is visually striking.  She has a lean frame and jet black hair which seems to defy gravity.  The Quad Stage suited her group very well. A trio like hers tends to get swallowed up by the Fort stage, but here the size is just right. They began the set with a punchy vamp ala Chick Corea. The music built up and her percussive touch drove the band forward. Sometimes she'll bang out her piano lines and rocks forward and back until she momentum seems to propel her a few inches up off of her seat -- it's natural movement and fits the music. Here's a glimpse of Hiromi at work (she's on the left):  

 

She can create crystalline melodies with her right hand, then add the left to dive deep into the lower timbres of her piano.  The band was outstanding.  Anthony Jackson played an 8 string contra-bass guitar and was the rock who held together the music even when Hiromi embarked on flights of extended improvisation.  To the right, drummer Simon Phillips made full use of his large drum kit and lent a highly percussive counterpoint to the ensemble. Hiromi mainly played her acoustic piano, but at times stood up and added a synth line with her left hand while continuing to play melody lines with her right. Later she told us the names of her songs -- Warrior, Desire and Dreamer, to name a few. Her music touched many bases -- a two-handed ragtime feel flowed into chunky chords like Monk, then ultra-fast lyrical lines with her right hand accompanied by delicate brush work from Phillips. They closed the set with the title track from her latest album, Alive.  I wondered if any music I would hear later in the day could possibly match this.  I'll talk about that in my next post. This post is the second in a short series on the 2015 Newport Jazz Festival. The first post can be found here.  

Hot Jazz Afternoon at Newport

It's a challenge to keep up with new developments and artists in the jazz world.  The Newport Jazz Festival offers the best local remedy for people in the northeast US. This past Saturday was a near cloudless day and the bright sunshine attracted thousands to Newport. The streets were filled with visitors and bicyclists made much better time than drivers throughout much of the route to the seaside Fort Adams site.  

But all was forgiven when I was able to plunk down my lawn chair a couple hundred feet from the main stage and listen to the music. The site is right on the harbor and on a day like this sailboats take advantage of the breezes that flow through Narragansett Bay. Here is what it looked like facing the stage:  

 

Drummer Jack DeJohnette led the first act, a group aptly named Made In Chicago. As I found my seat, Jack was driving the band hard as they collectively improvised on their instruments. The musicians present had helped originate the classic late Sixties Chicago avant-garde sound - Henry Threadgill, Roscoe Mitchell, Muhal Richard Abrams and Larry Graham -- but still played with intensity and originality.  Not a bad way to start the day.  

The next act on the Fort Stage was new to me, but the Maria Schneider Orchestra had been highly recommended by a friend. Maria is a young, blonde-haired woman who writes music and leads a group of about twenty musicians. Maria has listed Gil Evans as an influence, but the music ranged widely. The  musical structures which left room for multiple horn players playing over the band reminded me of seeing the Gil Evans Band in Montreal in the late eighties, but the overall musical palette covered a lot of ground. Jazz guitarist Ben Monder was featured on a couple of different songs which illustrated the band's range. On an early tune in the set, Ben played a highly distorted and blazingly fast guitar sound reminiscent of early Al DiMeola, coupled with wails of Hendrix style feedback. On a later song, Ben's approach was quiet and lyrical, helping to paint the vision of Maria's home region of Minnesota countryside. Most of the music in the performance was from her latest album, The Thompson Fields. On another composition, dueling saxophonists played over choppy piano overlaid by orchestral textures.  On the final song, Stephen Wilson played immaculate soprano sax stating the melody with support from the rest of the band. Lately, there's been more big band jazz music evident at Newport; Maria Schneider showed that her work is an important example of this direction. Later, I purchased her CD and she seemed very down to earth as we chatted briefly about her music and jazz in the signing line.

I'll share a few more of my experiences from my day at Newport on my next post.   

Notes on the Spiritual Aspects of Kayaking

Summer is a time to relax, a time to nurture experiences which will help to sustain you when the season changes and the demands of work and life seem to accelerate.  What follows is a short meditation on kayaking which I wrote during a recent vacation week.       

Today I paddled a kayak across Crescent Lake in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire.  Crescent Lake is much smaller than the nearby Lake Winnipesaukee and has the virtue of being much quieter during a weekday jaunt.  Why do I like to do it?  There’s the exercise of course – an hour kayak ride can be the major workout of your day.  It’s also an ideal way to observe nature at close quarters.  For example, ten minutes into my ride today, I paddled near a rock and noticed an unusual formation.  On top of the grey rocks, a large, olive-hued turtle was sunning itself.  I smiled and paddled by without disturbing this creature of the wild.  Later, I navigated from the lake unto a narrow stream which serves as a causeway between Crescent Lake and the much larger Lake Wentworth.  Along the route, white birches helped mark the shorelines.

 

I reached the larger lake, then circled back to stay within my target timing for the voyage.  Along the return route, the only other boats I saw were fellow kayakers and the lake surface grew smoother.  About halfway back, I heard a distinctive loud call—the cry of the loon.  Sure enough, just up ahead, I saw the distinctive long black neck of a loon skimming across the lake’s surface, before it dove under water to go looking for live fish.   The loons won’t be found on a day when the motorboats dominate the lake, so their presence helps mark times when the kayak experience can be both quiet and offer opportunities to commune with nature in her various aspects, be they fish, fowl or fauna. 

So, what about the spiritual aspect?  Kayaking on your own is a solitary pursuit.  It’s just you, the kayak, the water and whatever else you see along the way.  I never feel closer to the community of life than I do when I’m out exploring nature in a direct way. 

Kayaking is a low footprint approach to engaging with nature and shares those attributes with other outdoor sports I enjoy such as hiking, bicycling and cross country skiing. During these moments, I can sense the connectedness between myself as a person and the rest of our planet.  It’s also a fine time to offer up thanks to God or another spiritual representation you may relate to and to ponder the great beauties of nature around us, which were there before us and will be there after we have departed. In these times, it is also much easier to sense our role as stewards for the world around us.  We are all part of a much bigger narrative than we tend to consider during the average day in the office or at home. 

Take a ride on a kayak or a walk in the woods and you may find that your spiritual inner being is there waiting for you, ready to take you on journeys which will nourish you long after this particular day is done. 

Are there particular activities which help you to relax and let your spiritual side engage with the world around you?