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Climb Every Mountain
Mar. 28th, 2021 10:52 amSpent most of yesterday at Palisades National Park in New Jersey--a five mile hike with D. and the boy scouts.
Some scene setting first: the park is just on the other side of the George Washington Bridge, running along the Hudson River. The actual park--with picnic tables and such--is at the bottom of a massive wall of cliffs, extending out into the horizon and reaching up to 300 feet high. (You don't get a sense of how huge they are until you drive down to the picnic area and look up...)
As usual, I got lost on the way there. Sigh... I always do this. First time going to a new location, and I have to muck it up somehow.
(Follow me down the rabbit hole, won't you?)
I make it from Brooklyn to the GWB, no problem. I exit at Hudson Terrace, as directed, and turn onto River Road. But wait--AM I on River Road? (There's no street sign indicating River Road!) I get so distracted trying to establish Step 2 that I miss Step 3--I drive past my turnoff. Way too many miles later, I turn around, double back and....yes, there's the park entrance! (Within spitting distance of the bridge, no less.)
We were late--but fortunately, the scouts were still setting up for the hike, and D. and I could shake off our little detour before everybody got moving.
The hiking trail is a three mile or so woodland path running parallel to the highway on top of the cliffs. Which brings us to the hard part: you have to climb up to the top of the cliffs.
Is there a winding, gently sloping concrete footpath to lead you to your destination?
No.
There are a whole bunch of irregularly-shaped stone steps built into the cliffside, rising almost vertically from the campgrounds. But hey, I thought to myself, I'm not in bad shape. I walk a mile or so to and from work practically every day! I got this! But I hadn't considered that I was carrying the backpack with our supplies. Or that I'd forgotten my cap and the morning sun was beating down on my head. Or that I was wearing my mask and my jacket.
Or that I'm old.
So, by the time we'd reached the top, my legs were like rubber, my heart was pounding, and (to use one of my wife's favorite phrases) I felt like my soul was about to leave my body. I plopped down on a pile of leaves and waited for either: a) a slow return to normal breathing or b) the fatal heart attack that would traumatize my child forever.
I got better.
The rest of the hike was much less dramatic. The trail wound its way down and around a beautiful waterfall; we had lunch at a picnic area and the kids could burn off the calories at one of the playgrounds; and the last leg of the journey was a quiet walk along the Hudson River, uncommonly still and serene.
*******************
My near fatal heart attack aside, this was an enjoyable experience for both of us. I'm seriously considering the week long camping trip in upstate New York in July. I guess it depends on whether COVID is still hanging around and takes most of the fun out of it (and whether my wife can take not having her baby around for a week). I think it would be a blast.
But please, no climbing.
Some scene setting first: the park is just on the other side of the George Washington Bridge, running along the Hudson River. The actual park--with picnic tables and such--is at the bottom of a massive wall of cliffs, extending out into the horizon and reaching up to 300 feet high. (You don't get a sense of how huge they are until you drive down to the picnic area and look up...)
As usual, I got lost on the way there. Sigh... I always do this. First time going to a new location, and I have to muck it up somehow.
(Follow me down the rabbit hole, won't you?)
I make it from Brooklyn to the GWB, no problem. I exit at Hudson Terrace, as directed, and turn onto River Road. But wait--AM I on River Road? (There's no street sign indicating River Road!) I get so distracted trying to establish Step 2 that I miss Step 3--I drive past my turnoff. Way too many miles later, I turn around, double back and....yes, there's the park entrance! (Within spitting distance of the bridge, no less.)
We were late--but fortunately, the scouts were still setting up for the hike, and D. and I could shake off our little detour before everybody got moving.
The hiking trail is a three mile or so woodland path running parallel to the highway on top of the cliffs. Which brings us to the hard part: you have to climb up to the top of the cliffs.
Is there a winding, gently sloping concrete footpath to lead you to your destination?
No.
There are a whole bunch of irregularly-shaped stone steps built into the cliffside, rising almost vertically from the campgrounds. But hey, I thought to myself, I'm not in bad shape. I walk a mile or so to and from work practically every day! I got this! But I hadn't considered that I was carrying the backpack with our supplies. Or that I'd forgotten my cap and the morning sun was beating down on my head. Or that I was wearing my mask and my jacket.
Or that I'm old.
So, by the time we'd reached the top, my legs were like rubber, my heart was pounding, and (to use one of my wife's favorite phrases) I felt like my soul was about to leave my body. I plopped down on a pile of leaves and waited for either: a) a slow return to normal breathing or b) the fatal heart attack that would traumatize my child forever.
I got better.
The rest of the hike was much less dramatic. The trail wound its way down and around a beautiful waterfall; we had lunch at a picnic area and the kids could burn off the calories at one of the playgrounds; and the last leg of the journey was a quiet walk along the Hudson River, uncommonly still and serene.
*******************
My near fatal heart attack aside, this was an enjoyable experience for both of us. I'm seriously considering the week long camping trip in upstate New York in July. I guess it depends on whether COVID is still hanging around and takes most of the fun out of it (and whether my wife can take not having her baby around for a week). I think it would be a blast.
But please, no climbing.
