a year or so ago, i picked up Arctic Explorations by Elisha Kent Kane in a used bookstore because i had an hour to kill before a movie started. the book gripped me like few others have. kane, a mere 33 years old, led an expedition to the arctic in the hopes of rescuing Sir John Franklin's missing party. Kane's ship became frozen in the ice north of greenland where it remained for two years. Kane and his crew hunkered down for the dark winter and during the summers waited and watched the pack ice melt, but never reach their ship. eventually, they abandoned their ship and traveled across the crumbling ice to greenland in an heroic effort seldom seen today. he returned home a hero, although the arduous expedition had a terrible effect upon his health and he died shortly afterwards. he was buried at the laurel hill cemetary in philadelphia after a funeral that rivaled abraham lincoln's in size and stature. his body sat in state in both washington and independence hall while mourners passed in droves.
so sunday i hopped onto my bicycle with christy, rebecca, and john from carfax abbey, and we rode out to the cemetary to visit dr. kane. the cemetary, we discovered, was closed on sunday. so we had a lovely picnic lunch and rode back. a nice little 12 miles or so in all.