SUN SONG 02: Alleys and Backroads
Celtics fans, small adjustments, and the MBTA.
May 16th, 2022
16.01 miles
Boston, MA
Spirits were high in Boston this morning.
Last night, the Celtics triumphantly defeated the Milwaukee Bucks to advance to the Eastern Conference. This morning, it was the talk of the town. Everyone and their mother wore a piece of Celtics gear in celebration.
Next stop Miami, for a best-of-7 series against the Heat. I, too, am on my way to Miami via Boston, however those Celtics will be long gone before I arrive in mid-June.
“My name is Gerald. G-E-R-A-L-D.”
Gerald was a particularly jovial Celtics fan. We met shortly after I left my Airbnb this morning. I asked to take his picture and his face lit up.
He slowly extended his arm and offered his joint, which at this state, was merely a splinter in between his fingernails. I politely declined, but admired his generosity, even if there was nothing left. Had I taken a hit, I’d likely lost track of time and sat in the park all day (not that there’s anything wrong with that).
“If they wasn’t goin’ to the paint, I’d have to go to the paint for ‘em!” Gerald screamed with a fervent passion. “Man, did you see how many 3’s they put up? I can’t stand those Bucks!
I couldn’t help but laugh. I sensed Gerald was a thespian in his own regard, and it wasn’t clear whether he was merely acting or overcome with such intense passion. Each time I nodded, it only seemed to spur another monologue regarding the Celtics performance. Finally, he cooled off, as it was time for him to get an ice cream sandwich.
“Ok, ok! Take my picture!”
We shook hands and agreed to see each other once again, whenever that might be. I didn’t have enough coffee this morning, but Gerald’s attitude was contagious and gave me life.
Later, I photographed Sean, another Celtics fan, who stated he was “not the kind of person you’d want to photograph.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I’m not an angel”
I assured him I was not interested in photographing angels, which seemed to disarm him thus spurring a 20 minute discussion about everything underneath the sun. I had hopes of making it downtown today, but at this rate, I would make it by dusk.
Eventually, I picked up speed and walked around Roxbury before edging downtown. I debated walking all the way to Cambridge, but chose to ditch any preconceived route in favor of moving in one general direction. The need to plan every walk felt more like a burden than empowerment and recognizing so was a huge relief.
Instead of constantly checking Google Maps to make sure I was going the right way, I allowed a certain rhythm to emerge in its place. My intuition took command as I wove back and forth along the sidewalk, turning down any street that caught my attention.
Instead of walking well traversed thoroughfares, I chose alleys (Boston has plenty) and sleepy residential back roads. I wasn’t concerned with taking the best route possible.
Instead of stressing about having the best day possible – it’s not really under my control anyways – a familiar mantra returned:
Whatever happens on this walk, was meant to happen on this walk.
I made my rounds in Chinatown, darted over to Boston Common, and followed a section of the Freedom Trail before making my way over to the North Washington Street Bridge. I felt a calling to visit the Bunker Hill Monument in Charleston, but could have walked the winding alleys of North End into the evening.
Charleston is supposedly one of the oldest, if not the oldest neighborhoods in Boston, and I felt the need to explore the area after visiting the monument. However, time was limited if I wanted to reach my Airbnb before dark. Walking all the way back wasn’t an issue, but it added a level of urgency that I wished to avoid. My other option was walking around the neighborhood and taking the subway back to Dorchester.
This wasn’t an easy decision. I made a rule prior to beginning this journey that, once reaching a town by Amtrak, I was limited to walking for the duration of my stay. However, it was apparent my self imposed rule was limiting my ability to enjoy parts of the city. Before continuing, I’d have to make a choice.
So, instead of rushing to get back to my Airbnb, I chose to take the subway, giving me the freedom to walk all over beautiful Charleston and venture over to Kendall Square (which sits adjacent to MIT). This walk has been all about small adjustments, and I was happy to do so.
From there I crossed the Longfellow Bridge over the Charles River, and eventually made my way back to the South Bay subway station and hopped on the Red Line. The subway here, known as the MBTA (or simply the T), opened in 1897, making it the oldest subway system in the United States.
Besides walking around, there is no better way to understand a city than taking public transportation. It only adds another flavor to this journey. I’ll be doing the same tomorrow so I can start my day in Harvard Square, make my way to Allston, back to Roxbury, and then who knows. We’ll see where desire leads me.
It's hot out here, but not unbearable. We’ve just a month left of spring, but it already feels like summer. I’ll take the sunny skies while I can, as it beats walking in the pouring rain. I applied sunscreen multiple times, but still managed to miss exposed parts of my body. I’m paying the price this evening and won't forget tomorrow. By the time this thing is all said and done, I’ll be a baked potato.
More tomorrow,
–Alex
Thank you, Alex; it's a pleasure to vicariously enjoy your saunters!
So very good to see you out on the path again, Alex!