Last night, during dinner, I shared a poem with the riders to describe todays route. It was written by Robert Frost in roughly 1908, while on a trip from NH to VT…
It’s called “Stopping by woods”
The excerpt that struck me from one of my favorite poems, never occurred to me until one snowy day in February as I was reading it again…
“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep
but I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.”
GearMan
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