One Saturday this summer I did something crazy. I picked up a hitch hiker on Noyac Road. I have NEVER done this before. He was standing on the corner of Millstone and Noyac. There were a few people and a dog along side the road, I thought they were together. He was wearing black pants and a white dress shirt. It was hot. I pulled over thinking someone needed help. The man with the white shirt asked if he could have a lift to the bridge. I was surprised, but said,"sure, get in." I was thinking that he was talking about the railroad bridge. The bridge that carries the Long Island railroad from Manhattan to Montauk. As we drove along, chatting, he said, "You know THE BRIDGE, don't you?" I had to admit I didn't know what he was talking about. He explained that it was a golf course built on the former Bridgehampton Race Circuit. He worked there. As we drove along Millstone Road he told me all about The Bridge. The story about a race track in the middle of the Hamptons now turned into a private golf course seemed rather fantastic. When it was time, he told me where to turn off. The entrance to the course was nondescript and the road was worn and down at heels. Right then a flash went through my mind, "THIS would be a good place to dump a body." Signage from the previous incarnation as a race track showed up immediately to quell my paranoid thoughts. As the road wound higher the views and beautiful landscape were breath taking. When we reached the circular drive and the clubhouse I was completely astounded. Vistas to Sag Harbor, Shelter Island and beyond. A member's car, an orange McClaren, was parked prominently out front. I dropped off my passenger, wished him the best. I was too gobsmacked to take any photos. I vowed to come back. What an exquisitely beautiful place! When I told Hugh about my adventure he was VERY upset. "You did WHAT?" Though this adventure turned out fine, he made me promise never ever to pick up a hitch hiker again.