Alexandersmap

    Month: May 2019

    • Buttermilk

      Buttermilk Falls State Park offers lovely views of the many waterfalls that cascade through the gorges carved by Buttermilk Creek. The biggest cascade is the easiest to see – you can basically drive right up to Buttermilk Falls and take a picture of you wanted. But who the hell wants that? I walked over to the falls from the Hampton Inn I was staying at when I checked in to get the blood flowing and again this morning as part of my earn your breakfast routine. From the Hampton to Pinnacle Rock it’s a little over 3 miles round trip.

      The walk from the hotel to the entrance to Buttermilk Falls State Park is roughly a mile of strips malls, fast food restaurants, and loud traffic rolling by you.  Not the highlight of a trip to Ithaca.  But once you turn into the driveway you see the falls right in front of you and the city sprawl becomes a memory.  As I walked in I noticed that the park was completely empty.  It was 6:15 AM after all, but still, I expected at least one or two people tapping into the energy of Buttermilk Falls.

      Yesterday I stopped at the first observation platform as you walk up the stairs.  Today I wanted more than that and aimed for Pinnacle Rock.  The thing about waterfalls is that if you’re going to hike alongside them you’re going to end up walking uphill for some period of time.  At Buttermilk the steepest part of the Gorge Trail is the very beginning, which probably deters a few people from continuing on.

      The Gorge Trail is about 1/2 mile from Buttermilk Falls to Pinnacle Rock.  This morning in the rain that walk required a dose of awareness of where you were walking.  I don’t hike as often as I’d like, but I can certainly handle this terrain.  Much of the Gorge Trail is stairs and terraced stone built in the 1930’s and 40’s.  I’m sure it’s been re-built a few times over the years but it looked very much like it might have then.

      When I reached the second bridge across Buttermilk Creek I looked up and there was Pinnacle Rock, perfectly situated amongst a double waterfall.  This was what I told myself I came here for, but really it was the experience of hiking up this quiet trail early on a Friday morning while hundreds of people commuted to work just below me.

      For me a hike begins with a Friday night-level anticipatory excitement, and I felt that exhilaration as I rounded every hilltop or bend in the trail to see what came next.  But inevitably the hike must end, and as I descended the Gorge Trail I experienced that Sunday afternoon melancholy of knowing I was going back to the roar of the commuters and back to another workday.  As if to hammer the point home for me, I glanced out across the creek on my descent and saw the orange awnings of a Home Depot across the street from the park entrance.

      All told I did the walk from the hotel to Pinnacle Rock and back in under an hour.  That hour far exceeded any amount of time on a treadmill or an erg in my basement at home. If I lived in Ithaca I’d start every morning with a similar hike.  At least that’s what I tell myself.  If there’s anything positive about business travel, it’s that I’ve grown accustomed to being in different places every night.  If there’s a drawback, it’s the relative ease with which you can slide into bad habits.  Today I cast a vote for a good habit, and I’m the better for the experience.

    • Where it all Happened

      When I was a child I thought of Boston, Lexington and Concord as the place where the bulk of the Revolutionary War was fought. Of course, that’s not accurate at all; it’s the place where it started. Or rather, where the underlying tensions felt across the thirteen colonies erupted into open rebellion and eventually violent conflict. Names like Yorktown, Valley Forge, Princeton, Trenton and Saratoga are just place names unless you’ve been there and felt the lay of the land. Having grown up there I’d done that in Boston but it wasn’t until I was an adult that I started visiting these other places.

      Monday I drove from an appointment in Castleton, Vermont to Clifton Park, where I would have meetings the next morning. Before the drive I did my usual survey to see what was on or near the route. I was already very close to Hubbardton, which I’d visited on my last trip up this way. But there was another significant side trip not far from my route…. Saratoga.

      As with any battlefield the action took place across a wide area over a period of time. The Saratoga Campaign took about a month, with other related skirmishes contributing to the overall result. I didn’t have time and wasn’t dressed for an extended tourist campaign myself, so I chose the visually stunning Saratoga Battle Monument as a priority, and let serendipity take over from there. It didn’t take long as I passed two historical markers of consequence next to each other. First was a sign marking the location of Starks Knob, named after John Stark, who held the high ground on this “basaltic pillow lava formation” which blocked the retreat to the north of General Burgoyne’s British and Hessian troops. Second was a monument to the Knox Trail, marking this ground as significant on a few occasions during the war.

      With Stark blocking retreat to the north, and Colonel Daniel Morgan‘s troops blocking retreat to the west, and the Hudson River blocked retreat to the east, options were running out for Burgoyne. He was cut off with nowhere to go. So on the morning of October 17, 1777 General Burgoyne and his 6000 soldiers surrendered. The Saratoga Battlefield Monument commemorates this event.

      Time or the necessary footwear to visit the battlefield itself weren’t available Monday… Another time perhaps. But seeing this magnificent monument, and seeing Starks Knob to know the lay of the land were worth the detour. History books only tell part of the story. Saratoga was a massively important global event that changed that history. Walking and driving around these places helps me understand what these names on the page were facing.

      I didn’t hear the whispers of ghosts when I visited the monument, but I did have my breath taken away as I drove around the bend from the site Morgan held and saw the monument rise up before me. And I had a shot of adrenaline when I saw the sign for Starks Knob. These places, where these things happened, matter to me, and I continue to seek them out in my travels.

    • Earn Your Breakfast

      I knew it was coming, and wasn’t sure how I’d react to it.  A disruption in routine was creeping up on me all month as I looked at the week of April 29th as a travel week, with all the hurdles that come with business travel, as I try to maintain a semblance of habit foundation.  The biggest concern was waking up in a different hotel every morning this week, with no erg to welcome me back before I started my admittedly minuscule rowing workout.

      Monday was no problem, I simply got up early and worked out at home before I started driving to my first appointment.  Tuesday was the real test, and I literally got up, got dressed and walked around in circles for a few minutes figuring out what the hell I was going to do.  But I got over it, walked as many steps as time would allow, walked up and down the stairs a few times and did the obligatory 10 burpees.

      That mental barrier crossed, today was easier and I got up and got to it right away.  Today should have been harder as I arrived at the hotel late last night and didn’t sleep particularly well, but habit trumped fatigue.  As I was walking this morning, the phrase I kept repeating to myself was “earn your breakfast”.  Not exactly “win one for the Gipper”, but it served me well nonetheless.  Our days, and our lives, are a product of the stories we tell ourselves.  I’m trying to tell myself a better story.