Knocking Rhode Island off my list feels like a legitimate accomplishment. Perhaps it is irrational, while strangely logical in my warped brain, that the smallest state would be the last state I would visit. I got into town in the afternoon with plans to leave the next day via train for New Haven. I only had a couple hours to get out there and find something before it was time for dinner and then bed time. Of course, I had done my homework well ahead of time and knew I had a Savers within walking distance.
The east coast had gotten hammered with a blizzard the weekend before. It had warmed a bit so the roads were clear but I found my path totally obstructed with heaps of snow on the last stretch of Branch Ave as it crosses route 95. So I alternated between running in the road (which is basically a highway at that point) and tromping through the snow, which was not quite hard enough to support me most of the time so I’d fall through.
