The Pepacton Stop

So I made it to the mighty Pepacton Reservoir–one of the sources for New York City’s water supply. Its beautiful and blue. I hiked from Beaverkill where I was dropped off yesterday and made it here before nightfall. I couldn’t fall asleep, but finally got to rest around 3:30 in the morning. I slept until 9:30. I’ve been looking out at the water now for about an hour. Its calming and quiet. In the distance I see a trout fisherman…

I just closed my eyes for a little, taking in the smell of the wild, of the one source–the energy that I feel deep inside m, inside it all. Its like that when ever I am away from humanity. I wish I could have that same feeling when I’m around people. You know that feeling where no matter what it will all be fine. Its something I need to work on–to build and grow on.

Well, I’ll have to be on the move soon. I need to get to Route 17 and start heading out towards Western NY and maybe up into the Finger Lakes before nightfall. My travel planner should help in finding some good hotels and maybe some wineries if I make it the Finger Lakes.pepacton14.jpg

Pepacton Reservoir

The Roscoe Diner

The Roscoe diner is a traveler’s paradise. It has Greek specialties and a great pot of coffee. I’ve been here all through the night and now its ten in the morning and I think its time to go. I got a hitch out of Ellenville with an old man in a pick up truck heading west on 17. He was a skinny man with gray hair who must of smoked about 8 cigarettes in an hour’s time. He dropped me off here. Its been fun here, eating and relaxing. I’ve seen old me chatting for a few hours and young teenagers obviously out without their parents’ knowledge. The flow of life continues on at Roscoe. Its a small town, a transient place where truckers stop and simple people live. Roscoe is at the foot of the Catskills in Sullivan county and its those mountains I want to head to next. I’m ready to check my trip planner to see the best spots for hiking and viewing the world out here. I am ready, but I’m not sure my body is. Oh well maybe I’ll take a snooze somewhere along the way ore just order another coffee before I leave.


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Going West

I feel like I’m going west. Really I’m still in Ulster, in the Catskills. There are many old hotels up here. The Nevele and the old Browns (now an Ashram) all reflect a sort of modern antiquity of lite nostalgia hugging the mountains. Walking through the old town of Ellenville I thought to myself, “how dull life is here, but how perfect.”

I’m after the quiet, the internal respite that is sought, but never found. The autumn colored trees are swaying around me as I write this on a wooden bench, cool fall air touch my cheeks. I think I can get a hitch if I look desperate enough, after all since leaving Mohonk and crossing through Minewaska State park where another mountain lake lies hidden in the sky I made my way all the while sleeping at night outside and that’s where I’ve been the last few nights; in my tent in the woods outside Ellenville. I think its time to go…