Evolving into a nomad chick…

My friend Robert told me that the Portland Japanese Garden is not to be missed, so I’ll add that to my itinerary. He’s offered to take me through Smith Rock State Park since he lives nearby.

Also, I’m thinking that I should rent a car to drive up to Oregon and then fly back to Phoenix, otherwise it’s just too many hours driving by myself. Speaking of which, I’ve been doing some research on women traveling alone. First of all, I’m reading Women’s Travel Writing 2008, which seriously makes me laugh and cry on every page—I’m so easily moved it’s ridiculous.

Found a great site with advice for solo women travelers — maybe i just like the ring of it, nomad chick—could that be me?

Lake Revelation

My trip planner is right. The waters of Lake Cayuga are beautiful. I made it up here using a public bus and after short dining experience at a cafe in Ithaca I decided to flee to the less settled shore line of Lake Cayuga up north. Its beautiful here and restful. I can think about the complexities by removing myself from them until everything seems just simple, just an expression of the divine. Isn’t that what this is about? Expressing the impossible, recanting and collecting thoughts in a manner that is a consolidation of revelation of one’s inner spirit? Thats my trip and yeah I guess I am a floaty and doing some inner traveling right now. So I guess I’ll post this and break.

Elmira, I Think I’ll Stay For A While

The title says it all. Its really nice here. Well most people would find it tough, but there’s something about sticking around the city where Mark Twain wrote most of his books. Something else. The Chemung River flows down the center and provides a nice walk. I feel rested and calm here after my night in a hotel room. I think I’ll check out some of the historical sites here. Maybe even sit in Mark Twain’s office. My travel planner insists its a great tourist site! Will write more later.
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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

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…

Traveling the Crags

There is a hike on the Mohonk Preserve that I used to be scared to do when I was younger. The Crags are series of of whitish-gray limestone rocks jutting out in all directions, running the length of Mohonk Lake. I used to think it was the hardest hike in the world, but today even after my 9 or 10 mile hike from New Paltz passed the Adair winery and up the slopes of Mohonk, the Crags were a bitter sweet experience. I guess my imagination as a child has given way to an adult perception.

I’m sitting writing this in the hotel lobby of the Mohonk Mountain House, a structure built around a century previous that offers luxurous rooms to the wealthy. Mohonk is a beautiful preserve, with horse back riding and hiking and boating on the beautiful mountain lake. The Shawangunks or rather they are known simply in these parts as The Gunks are home to many mountain top lakes, all are beautiful and serene.

Up here I feel at peace and at home. Its a sort of inner feeling where you know there can be no harm at the end of the journey, because the journey is inside. Boy am I tired, and I need to get some sleep. Soon I’ll be traveling on.

Stuck In New Paltz

So I’ve been laid out for a few days. I made it a total 9 plus miles South of Rosendale to the Village of New Paltz. My trip wasn’t easy. I walked along the Rail Trail, which follows the path of the old rail way from farther down state up to Kingston–the capital of Ulster County. The rail trail is a beautiful, easy hike. The trees at this time of the year are covered in their multi colored pastel imagery and the flat trail with its occasional biker is a relaxing sortie into the realm of back pack trekking. My problem came in the form of the black hole called New Paltz. The village has always drawn me, dragged me into its bowels, usually taking some dramatic, climactic event to free me from its drug induced clutches.

I have a few friends in New Paltz and the apartment I am writing in now is theirs. I’ve been here for a few days, stuck in the small apartment overlooking Main Street, which is a gathering for both the “Townies”and college students. There are nine bars on main street and I think my friends dragged me to each one, before finding ourselves back in their apartment. Its a shame I have to move on from this village, there is so much more than drinking to do here, but my trip continues on and now that I am rested from my drinking and my friends all have returned back to work I can move on and truly set myself free from these constraints. My trip planner has come in handy, pointing out with detailed precision my next leg to my journey. Out the window I can see the Mountain chain–The Shawangunks. The odd shaped mountain is called Mohonk. I’ve been there before–many times and today I will begin to go up there. Its about 10 miles from here, but a beautiful hike await me there. Its hills are orange and red now, like a multicolored blanket strewn across the mountains–autumn is in full swing in the midhudson valley.