Names can be deceptive. I was perched on the saddle of my hire bike on the first stretch of the Minuteman Bikeway in northern Cambridge. Urban Boston lay behind me; a smooth sweep of asphalt curved away into rural Massachusetts, past clapboard houses, mills, ponds and meadows. And alongside me was a monolithic gatepost marking the start of the trail, bearing the traditional name of this spot: Alewife.
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