This summer is just too beautiful to spend much time at the computer, which explains the paucity of blog posts. It seems like yesterday that the Rippers were heading east from Utah, and here Cub Reporter Gail (CRG) is typing on the Garden State Parkway on our way back west. Summer is hardly over, but for teachers like CRG, August brings the start of school. It is time to go home but not without a few adventures along the way. The first, but hopefully not the last, was a last minute invite from the owner of Thesis, the maker of our bikes, to join him for the now famous, and…

Our annual cross-country journey never grows old. Even though we move at a fast pace, especially on our way East, there are always surprises. This year’s trip, in early June, provided a good example. A last minute decision to push beyond Toledo, Ohio had us camping beside the highway at a Law Enforcement Training Center for police dogs, which is part of Harvest Hosts, about which you may recall we wrote last year. Despite the possibility of horrific encounters between Piper, our sweet but territorial Great Pyrenees and the German Shepherds in residence, all was quiet except for the hum of the highway and an occasional train whistle. A quick…

Today’s post will be a bit different than our usual. Not too long ago, I came across a YouTube video called “Not So Scary After All – Biking the East Coast Greenway“, by Regina Yan, a 20-something who is decidedly NOT a Senior Ripper, but who, as you will see in the video, embodies the Senior Ripper spirit of adventure. I was inspired by Regina’s willingness to venture outside her comfort zone, and accomplish an amazing feat or riding the entire East Coast Greenway over 3,000 miles from the northernmost part of Maine to the southernmost tip of Florida. And Regina’s ability to tell her story was captivating. I reached…

Even though the world seems to be in turmoil, Spring arrived here right on schedule. The mini daffodils that my class planted in November popped open just before we dispersed for Spring Break and the forsythia was blushing yellow. A quick stop at Trader Joe’s, that same day on my way home, produced a pot of tulips and I bought them even though I knew we were leaving the next day. At $3.99 who could resist? Sure enough the tulips ended up in the truck the next morning, tucked in precariously between bicycle helmets and ski gear. We headed south to Santa Fe, in the Land of Enchantment, and it…