Jewish kids don’t care

This is very random, no idea what was going on in my head:

Jewish kids just don’t get nostalgic about Americana, they don’t care about old route 66, the mother road as they called it in the Grapes of Wrath. They don’t pull over to the side of the road fumbling around for their black and white camera body and their tripods as they wonder whether the rain storm in the distance will provide good light for the perfectly preserved service station on the side of the road, with weeds breaking the cracked concrete surface and rusted pumps hanging to the side like a last will and testament that gas pumps were once built with aesthetics in mind.

Jewish kids don’t care about rusted hulks of the classic cars of yesteryear buried under decades of rubble, rust and garbage, strewn about the side of the road like some dumpster dropped them here and totally forgot about them. They don’t care about the old license plates with their stickers denoting the year of registration, or the smooth lines from the grill to the headlamps.

Jewish kids don’t care about ghost towns, unless there is a theme park park surrounding them with little stands explaining what this house used to be or why there is a big slab of concrete here or there. They don’t care to wander around broken homes that once belonged to families that could have left for a million different reasons. They couldn’t care less about the old milk bottles, cans and signs that lay under fallen down roof panels.

Jewish kids don’t care about the abandoned railroad tracks, that crisscross this country like a spider web in the attic. They don’t care about those flat expanses with nothing but old fences and tumble weeds. They don’t care about, old diners with their flashing neon lights and their waitresses named Gene and Joe.

Jewish kids don’t care about old motels advertising air cooled rooms and color zenith color TV. They don’t care about the motor court with the dried up pool in the center and the pale blue peeling paint and brown carpets.

Jewish kids don’t care about abandoned roads, old roads, old bridges and the old byways, US highways and other nondescript roads that were heavily traveled before the easy on easy off interstates were built.

Jewish kids and most kids and most people and most everyone just don’t care anymore, about anything beyond super sized, super easy, super electronic, super fast and super flashy. No body seems to care…..

Between Bear Mountain and Cold Spring

I took out my road bike on Friday and did a 25 mile loop around the Bear Mountain Bridge area- a truly wonderful riding area if you go during a non crowded time. I road all the way out to Cold Spring and it was my firts time exploring the village and it was beautiful. The main street is lined with old buildings and boutiques and its riverfront town which means they have a park on the water over looking Storm King Mountain- the river i really nice at this spot with cliffs rising up on the west side of it.

I then road back on 9D and went across the Bear Mountain Bridge, I have driven it a hundred times but have never ridden a bike across and it was amazing. The view is phenomenal and I then road around the lake at Bear Mountain and back to my car parked across the bridge.

Afternoon naps

I have been getting real tired lately at around 4:30-5 in the afternoon so I have been taking naps, I am all about naps, it really breaks up the day. The problem is I never want to wake up and always feel a little groggy upon waking up. Yesterday I took an hour nap and then went riding. Napping also allows me to be outside during my favorite time of the day- Dusk.

Aletrnate route to Baltimore saves on tolls and traffic

Instead of traveling to Baltimore down the ever crowded and ugly NJ Turnpike I have decided to go around through Pennsylvania from now on. This means that from Monsey I drive south on 287 until 78 west and then take that through to Harrisburg and then down to Baltimore. It sounds like a pain in the tuchus, but really its only about 30 miles longer- never has any traffic and there is total round trip tolls are $3 as compared to at least 40 dollars in tolls and loads of traffic the other way.

This route also allows for some great wandering around old towns and villages and driving through beautiful farming country. South East Pa has some great old towns full of old factories, abandoned railroad tracks and once thriving main streets. The route also allows for some significant back road travel if you like and I do like.

This past time I got off the highway and Easton Pa just over the NJ border and wandered around the town on my bike. Its a beautiful old factory town with some amazing classic architecture on main street including a fountain on the middle of the town square turned traffic circle.

On the way back I got off in York-PA and took US 30 to US 222 which took me to US 22 and then north up route 57 to I-80 and back home. It was a beautiful route with rolling farmland, popping corn and nice old stone houses from the late 1700’s.

Harrisburg and Lancaster which could be on the way depending how you go are also great cities to wonder around. Harrisburg being the capital has some nice stately buildings as well as some great railroad yards. Lancaster has a very well preserved historic district and is thriving in most parts, even the ghetto has beautiful old homes.

The distance this way from Monsey to the Jewish community in Baltimore is 240 miles as opposed to 210 the other way- but here you can hit the cruise control and relax. I would even do it that way if I came from NYC.

My brother needs to borrow a large internal frame backpack

My brother is going on a trip with the Jewish Outdoors Club to climb Mount Ranier- and he needs a 5500 cubic inch internal frame backpack. He just wants to borrow one- since he normally only does 5 day trips and never needs one so large. If anyone has one to lend or knows of anyone who may have one- please email me ASAP.

My brother is 5″4 so if anyone is between the heights of 5″1 and 5″6 it will do- ladies and gents either or.

frumsatire@gmail.com

20 mile road bike loop around Manhattan

There is a time in everyones life when they must acknowledge the beauty of New York City, I did this as I marveled at the crystal clear day reflecting off the skyline of the city which seemed to stretch to infinity as I tried to navigate the stop and go traffic on the George Washington Bridge. The sky was clear, the breeze was cool and dry and my bike on the roof of my car was begging to be ridden.

I had to be in Brooklyn for a free Madeski Martin and Wood show in Prospect park so I drove to the tip of Manhattan and tried to find a spot, not an easy feat- since everything is for official vehicles. I found one near China Town and donned my cycling gear and took off following the east river up to 23rd street where I switched to 1st ave. Then up to Central park for a loop around the park and then down the west side bike path. Beautiful and exhilarating riding as fast as traffic on singing tires pumped to 120 - psi, there is something great to be said about riding the rides of NYC- I have been doing it for 20 years and I love it.

18.78 miles total at an average of 16.5 mph.

Beautiful Harriman hike yesterday

I was on my way north up the Palisades parkway after work yesterday when suddenly the traffic stopped and I saw emergency vehicles in the rear view mirror meaning an accident had just happened. I scrapped my plans for a hike of Breakneck Ridge or Anthony’s Nose across the Bear Mountain Bridge and pulled a sketchy u-turn on the grass divider and got off the Lake Welch Parkway exit that took me into Harriman.

It was funny because I had originally planned on hiking in Harriman and was kind of playing it by ear. I went to the Silvermine Lake area and parked. I looked at my map and decided to hike up the yellow trail on the right side of the lake and take the AT to Black Mountain which said had a view.

The weather was amazing, 70 degrees, a slight breeze, dry and very clear- no clouds. The woods were pristine, extremely green, I haven’t hikes in some time. I go through stages, I have been in this kayak/bike stage and now have gone into a hike and wander stage.

I hiked up this rocky trail until the AT and turned right following the white blazes and red dot blazes. Up and up and until a slight view, then down. I crossed Silvermine Road- which was amazing, this is coming from nerdy old me who is fascinated with old roads. This road crossed the trail and was completely green covered. It was graded and fully in tact. In fact from the side it looked like a causeway through the woods- I will have some pictures sooner or later. I walked on it for a while pondering when it may have been built and why. There weren’t many mines in the area according to my map and the road just ended up aways according to the map.

I continued on the trail up a steep hill to a marvelous view of Silvermine Lake and the surrounding hills. Then onward to the next view which was amazing, I could see the cement factories in Haverstraw and the Hudson river snaking along the Palisades. On the other side is was just green and hilly.

I met a guy thru-hiking from Georgia and chatted for a bit, then I went back down to Silvermine road and hiked it back to the lake and crossed the damned crees coming out of the lake and went back to my car for a total of 2.5 hours of hiking.

Ghetto gardening

About a month ago I planted my garden, I was all excited and it was a fine looking plot of land when I started. Ample sunshine provided by my south east facing location and a chicken wire fence keeping animals out- set the stage for what was supposed to be a lovely garden. So excited was I about this piece of earth, that for the first time I dug ditches and rows and bought seeds instead of small potted plants.

I planted tomato and pepper plants and the rest seeds. Fantasies of all the cool free veggies filled my imagination as I wrestled with worms and weeds for real estate rights in my plot of land. At the end of it all I had planted three long rows of veggies. I had some left over so I decided to experiment with potted plants for the first time as well. I put these on my deck, I felt like they weren’t deep enough but nevertheless I planted basil seeds, an oregano plant and three different tomato plants on the railings of my deck.

Then the lawn grew, and grew until my backyard looked like a wild field, interspersed with garbage thrown by little kids who use the shortcut to the next street through the neighboring backyard. My garden was robbed of sunshine because my landlord whom I have never met does not cut the lawn nor have a working mower. Its cool to look at, but try having a game of Frisbee in the back yard. My garden is now full of weeds and low lying plants, some of them have fruits on them, but they are so small.

My potted plants on the other hand are enormous. The tomato plants are tall and healthy and sprouting flowers which means the tomatoes will be here soon. My basil is popping up healthy from my seeds and the oregano produces loads of smelly green leaves. So yesterday I decided I should transfer my garden veggies to the deck for sunshine purposes. Luckily my backyard is full of surprises and I found a bunch of things that could be used for pots.

I may call this ghetto gardening but I found one of those blue baby pools buried beneath garbage and leaves and decided to use it as a garden for my deck. I stabbed drainage holes in the bottom with a pairing knife and filled it with loads of dirt which was a big sweaty, shirtless mud streaked stomach job and am debating which plants get to go in. I also found some old recycling bins which could be used as pots.

If I get enough tomatoes I may even sell them, imagine the money I could make with this whole tomato scare going on and mine are organic as well.

Proof of Global Warming

Kayak therapy

The sun is forcing me to close my eyes, and its great because that allows these shades of blue and red and fuzzy circles to form in my vision- which I don’t need at this juncture anyway. Open water so placid that it seems to part for my boat as would a crowd for a king, eyes closed I gently break the flat waters surface to propel my little red kayak along the glassy lake. Eyes still closed, I clutch my oar ever so slightly and glide smoothly across the blackened depths.

I open them squinting at first and then turn to the blue sky, cloudless casting its blue shades upon this glorious lake. The only noise is gentle lapping of water against my hull, nothing else disturbs the tranquil air. Dragon flies occasionally dart about appearing to be schizophrenic and drunk not knowing which way to turn, flying speedily along and suddenly changing direction as if they had no idea where in fact they wanted to go, all over a blank water mind you, with no shrubbery or insects in sight in which to appease their appetites.

The shrill of a motorbike breaks the silence momentarily and then I am thrust back into my own therapy. My oar allowing my mind to wonder with each of its dips. My thoughts are clear yet completely overpowering and my mind wonders all over the stratosphere.

I am beyond the suns glares now and can let my eyes adjust to the slowly fading light. I am in the shadows of the low lying hills surrounding the glassy lake, a fisherman casts his line and it gently breaks the surface, we nod in silent agreement of the peaceful scene still cloudless and orange with the setting sun.

I watch the muddy earth through the shallow water and try to find graceful fishes jetting around stirring up the mud and making small waves on the surface. I am in my happy place, one of millions of them. My legs are up and I am lying down looking straight up at the white moon. Gently floating in complete silence with a slight cool breeze.