Monday, October 13, 2008

Overlook Mountain

Sunday, October 12, completed a fabulous hike up Overlook Mountain, part of the Catskill range in upstate NY.
The hike is 2.5 miles uphill, and takes up down a steep plunge 2.5 downhill. The closest town to this mountain range is Woodstock. Yes the Woodstock where the infamous concert was held many moons ago. And to this day it is still a big hippie town with smalls shops and galleries, independently owned restaurants, and locals who glare at tourists. Yesterday a arts festival was kicking off late afternoon with bongo drummers in the center square luring crowds with pulsing beats as the sun set behind the mountain. Woodstock, in my book, could be a great place to settle, but I didn't see any direct trains from the city to the country, and that in itself makes my question the validity of the term 'new yorker'. I started to question the connotations of a new yorker, and immediately thought of city experience and lifestyle choices. Anyway, it's the closest and coolest town next to my favorite off the beaten trail town, New Hope, Pennsylvania. Therefore, I'll be returning soon.



Breath in, breathe out. Through your nose! Up hill we went and my quads felt delicious as they burned and expanded. While hiking I was thinking, why don't I do this more? Or rather, why haven't I already done this (excluding the minimal hikes up to the elevation peak of Zürich, Switerzland and Camp Christopher)? And then I thought, giving myself some slack, I've been away from mountains and fall foliage for the past four years. I can't bother beating myself up because I was averaging 25 credit hours & multiple rehearsals a quarter. There was no time to do things like this, and now that I've got loads, I know how I want to live my life under my own ruling. No deadlines or weekend time management. I've forgotten how beautiful the yellow broad-leaved trees can be. The orange hues of elms and the striking red of maples stood tall, cowering over my hunched, blurred memory, and now I could walk under them, steadfastly looking up thrilled that they weren't in my imagination anymore. In Ohio, at least where I've been, the leaves just seem to fall without changing color, like the wind has more man power than time itself. In the mid-west I saw more rakes and leave blowers than pumpkins, and more flat land enough for a lifetime. On 71 South, there's hay for days, rather than sloping hills and backdrops sufficient for a decent album cover.



I have to admit, this is one of the perks of being back home. Before the hazy cold skies of November sink in, I hope to get a few more spectacular hikes in, and buy some decent hiking boots rather than beat up 3 year old Pumas. When my mom and I researched this trail, she was looking for a beginner path. Although, when we came back down the mountain we come to find we just hiked the intermediate trail, and it made the completion all that more special.

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