The road not taken
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.”
(From “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost, 1916)
As Robert Frost reminded us, choices are often difficult and will bring both a gain and a loss.
Should I spend my Sunday playing golf or take a day trip to the North Fork to do some antiquing with my very significant other?
Now depending upon your personal proclivities, you may find that an easy decision. If you are a golfer, as I am, you will say “certainly, my good man, go play some golf.” Golf is a sublime effort at self-improvement as it presents an endless number of challenges including deep rough, sand traps, thick woods, ponds that beckon, and fast greens that terrify. The golfer must overcome fatigue, anxiety, pain, anger, and disappointment and then execute a finely crafted swing over a four-to-five-hour period. Golf is a great, perhaps the greatest, challenge to self-improvement.
Self-improvement is the aim in every sport. If you are lucky, or unlucky enough, to be a beach volleyball player, you will find yourself playing in sand that is largely impossible to jump out of, all the while playing in the scorching heat and with prickly sand covering your body. This is an exercise in self-improvement by testing your pain tolerance.
In golf, every swing is counted and can easily be recalled and reviewed by the intrepid golfers as they lie in bed that evening and lull themselves to sleep. Self-improvement is chased and often achieved by learning from one’s mistakes, attempting corrections the next time out and by reveling in one’s occasional great shot making moments.
Now let us return to the question at hand which is should you go play golf or should you spend some quality time with your spouse by antiquing, stopping at various farm stands and exploring the natural and manmade wonders of the North Fork?
You may sense that I am subtly sneering at the natural fun to be found in antique shops on the North Fork and this admission may prove to be insulting to my significant other.
Not to worry because if the past is any indication of the future, I am certain that my significant other will show no interest in reading this column. I do not take that as an insult. I am fully aware and think frequently about the story of Karsten Solheim, the founder of Ping Golf Clubs, on the day he invented the Anser Putter. He excitedly ran into the house and told his wife “I did it! I did it! I have made the best putter in golf. It will revolutionize the game!” to which his wife remarked: “That’s nice, honey, now go upstairs and wash your hands, it’s dinnertime.” This is the way things are in marriage.
Well, you will not be surprised to hear that I did in fact go to the North Fork and did have breakfast at the Main Road Biscuit Company in Jamesport (tasty.) And we did proceed to the Harbes Family Farm to buy peaches and things. And then to Hallock State Park Preserve on the Sound and gazed upon some horses swimming in the water off shore. The pretty female riders who were on these horses told me that horses like to go to the beach as much as humans.
Travel insures that you encounter strange and mysterious events. We finished off the day by stopping at the North Fork Chocolate Company for some homemade ice cream.
To the question of travel; I have been to the most beautiful places on Earth including Lake Como, Capri, Waikiki, Barcelona and in the States places like Beverly Hills, Carmel-by-the-Sea, and Yosemite Park. But exactly how has that improved me? In golf if I average 80 and I shoot a 76 I know that for that day at least I have improved upon my former self and thus feel satisfied.
But if I go to the North Fork and see the lovely, quiet, rural, pristine nature of Long Island farmland and vineyards, how has that improved me? Can this be quantified? Furthermore, if I gaze upon the chocolate eclairs at Laduree’s on the Champs Elysees or walk down the boulevard called Las Ramblas in Barcelona exactly how does that improve me?
You may argue that travel is not about self-improvement at all but just about having grand experiences. I beg to differ. It does matter how these things change and improve me. Seeing the folks dancing in the streets as you walk down Las Ramblas should change you. And talking to Holden, the personable manager of the Main Road Biscuit Company, ought to change you. After all isn’t that why we travel to be changed for the better? I think travel does change us, but it’s very hard to say just how.
How does one quantify buying a peach at Harbes Family Farm that actually tastes like a peach? Or how do you quantify the tasty taste of the scones at The Main Road Biscuit Company?
Reviewers have had a hard time analyzing the meaning of Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken.” And to be honest I would say all of us have a hard time analyzing our wish to travel to faraway places. I am not sure what the answer is to this tricky question, but I think it may have something to do with seeing those horses swimming offshore in the Long Island Sound. Quite amazing after all. Even magical.
And as Robert Frost reminded us, one cannot do it all nor have it all. Choices must be made and some things are lost in the process and this results in a bittersweet feeling. Or as Joni Mitchel once sang: “Well something’s lost and something’s gained in living every day.”
I may not have made any hole-in-ones on the North Fork but I did enjoy those scones.
