A Critique of Progress

One of my favorite places to run, walk, and bike is alongside the Old Erie Canal Trail.  The Erie Canal was built nearly two hundred years ago in 1825 in order to connect the entierty of NY state with a more rapid form of transportation.  Long ago, for all the obvious reasons, it began to fall into disuse and eventually paved over, filled in, or has become overgrown.  For those of us lucky enough to live near one of the few restored sections, the canal presents an oppurtunity for tranquility right in our backyards.

Unfortunately, the area where I live has decided to go the way of suburban sprawl; every road with a double-solid line has turned into a grease strip with the typical big box corporations, fastfood chains, and low-wage retailers.  The area surrounding the canal, which avoided "development" for some time, served as a hunting ground and kyack launch point for local residents until it was flattened last month, mostly to make way for another big box retailer.  The worst part is that just a 1/5 of a mile from the recently razed land is a collection of empty buildings from the last round of failed businesses, including a giant vacant space from the last big box that came and went.  All this for the 8th, seriously 8th grocery store in a 3 mile radius?  And the tragic irony of course (if I may put my poli sci degree to use) is that the jobs created will in all likelihood pay so low that the workers of these firms will end up near or below poverty, putting them on a series of welfare programs that divert funds from higher paying forms of investment (healthcare, infrastructure, etc), but that's another story.

I don't really consider the above progress; I don't know how destroying the natural world to create a human world that sucks could ever be seen that way.  I grew up pretty poor so I recognize another form of progress.  My mother is progress, doing what she had to do to raise a family up and out of poverty.  My grandmother is progress, a second generation Italian immigrant who sacrificed her golden years to get her grandson into the right schools and be the first one with a college degree in his hands.  That's the type of progress seldom achieved, yet rarely recognized, even though I think taking kids from housing projects to college would have a better effect on the economy than another clothing store.  Until we realize that I'll keep fighting the bulldozers that I can hear just in the distance from the canal, while being thankful for the real sources of progress in my own life:

Wasn't I adorable?! So 90's!

Carolina Road Trip

This was a big traveling year for me.  First, Colorado (Yes, I finally finished that post!) and truth be told, I had never been to the ocean in the Souther half of the US until last week. I've chased Sea Gulls on Long Island and splashed in the sea in Jamaica many years ago, but that's about it.  If you know anything about me then this probably isn't too surprising since I can't swim...well, I can doggy paddle if that counts.  I didn't really know what to expect, but Eva would always talk with such nostalgia about her family trips to N. Carolina that I was excited for the trip.  We decided to drive to save money: big mistake.  We left at 7pm with Eva's brother and his girlfriend so we could arrive at about 7am the next day.  I took the first half of the trip since I had just got back from NYC earlier that day and proceeded to spend the rest of the day sleeping.  Little did I know that I volunteered to drive through the remnants of a friggin tropical storm.  Torrential downpours slammed us from Pennsylvania to Virginia, with yours truly behind the wheel.

When we finally arrived it was wonderful to see the ocean, but after a 12 hour car ride I was ready to hit the bar, yes, at 7am (I was on vacation so stop judging me!).  We were the first ones there (go figure) and had our first tropical drink, a Sangrimosa that tasted as good as it sounded.  Eva's family slowly trickled in and out of the gorgeous beach house we were staying in and we had some of the best laughs I've had in a while.  Eva's grandparents, both flirting with 90, are some of the most lively and adorable people you will ever meet.

Throughout the trip I would periodically have to disappear to prepare for presentations and papers, but that gave me time to wander the beach when I needed breaks.  I got my first peek at ocean birds; I want a Pelican so bad!!!  The town was quiet given the time of year, but I've always found something romantic about wandering through picturesque scenes alone with my thoughts.  The boardwalk was lined with palm trees and the air was slightly salty; it was definitely a change from the mountains a few weeks earlier.

Eva and I were the first ones in the Ocean, other than when I threw her mom in fully clothed.  I experienced rip tides for the first time and decided I best go no deeper than waist deep.  I also experienced how deceptive distance is when I wanted to walk to the pier.  It looked like a 10-15 minute walk at most.  A half hour later we finally reached it, but not after seeing a dozen roses scattered on the beach and contemplated the grand romantic gesture that may have ended in tragedy.  Hopefully it was just an art project.

As wonderful as the ocean was, I found my beach reading material to stand out quite a bit when I whipped out the latest issue of Backpacker magazine.  Nothing could have beat the serenity of the Ocean in that instant though.  Unfortunately serenity was smashed to bits during the drive back, another mind-numbing 12 hour, 742 mile car ride.  I got a whole 5 hours of sleep before it was time for a 5 hour bus ride to NYC for class, just for another 5 hours back shortly after midnight.  Thats 1,300 miles and 22 hours of driving in 48 hours.  My mind has never throbbed so much.  I think I need a vacation...

Rocky Mountain High - Grays, Torreys, and Lumpy Ridge

I know this trip was a while back, but since I wasn't blogging at the time and this is by far the greatest trip I've ever taken I just had to share it.  Over the years I've been all up and down the East Coast, from Boston to Atlanta, but I had never been further west than Ohio.  When Ohio is the furthest west you've ever traveled, you may need to get out more.  Luckily, one of my best friends, Tony, moved into the heart of Rocky Mountain National Park and had the idea of having a friend reunion centered around the Tough Mudder race.  Sounded great, but if I'm in Colorado, I'm hiking mountains!

After the standard screaming and hugging involved in seeing Tony again for the first time in years, I started taking in the Colorado scenery, which was a surprising mixture of plains, "alpine desert", and 14,000 foot peaks; Toto, we're not in Syracuse anymore.  Tony wasn't joking when he said he lived in the heart of the Rockies; Estes Park is over 7,000 feet high.  With views of Lumpy Ridge and Longs Peak, the crown jewel of RMNP right outside Tony's window, I felt right at home.  After meeting Tony's awesome girlfriend the three of us took a ride on North America's highest continuous paved road.

Having never seen mountains above 5,000 feet I was totally and completely awestruck by the snow capped, granite peaks.  The never ending chain of extinct volcanoes and lava cliffs was simply sublime.  Beyond the mountains the animals of the Park were just incredible, there were Elk, mountain goats, and even Moose!  I always hated tourists when I lived in NYC, so I felt like a complete hypocrite with the extreme volume of photos I had been taking, but I didn't give a damn, it was too unreal not to.

Needless to say, I was thrilled to start climbing the mountains ASAP.  The next morning we set off for Grays and Torreys peaks a couple hours south.  Despite being some of the highest peaks in the lower 48 and the highest points on the Continental Divide Trail they are actually considered beginner climbs in the Rockies.  We started climbing early in the a.m. after stopping at subway, breakfast of champs (Did you know Subway has bread with jalapeños baked into it!?).  Climbing in the Rockies is nothing like the Adirondacks, you can see the summit of the peaks from miles away, there's still significant snow in late June, and I had my first introduction to altitude sickness, something like a splitting headache and breathing through a straw.

The climb up Grays was pretty quick despite the 14inches of snow.  Oh! I even saw other Black people on the climb up! That makes three ever and I'm not even including myself!  The views were breathtaking, you could see for over a hundred miles back to Longs Peak!  We headed down the shoulder of Grays to trek up the shoulder of Torreys.  By this time it was freezing, literally....in late June.  When we summited we ran into a skier who was about to get down a lot faster than we were.  Him and his dog Pepper had just climbed up before us.  We took in a few more sights, snapped a few more pics, then began the hike down when it happened....snow.  The snow was light, it was actually pretty, but it felt like Syracuse.  After climbing down, the real effects of the altitude hit me in the Jeep.  I layed down until we stopped in Boulder.  Boulder was surrounded by mountains and filled with socialist hippies, now I was home!

The next day our friend Patrick (AKA Gator Boy or GB) joined us with his spectacular girlfriend.  The five of us did some free climbing on Lumpy Ridge where I scraped myself on a gigantic boulder...badly. No matter, totally worth it.  Tough Mudder was the next day, but I'll save that for another post.  The day after TM it was time to say goodbye to my new and old friends.  After leaving the same way I arrived (high pitched wails and hugs) it was time to leave the West.  I sat in the airport (drinking) for hours while waiting for my delayed flight, but I didn't mind at all.  With Denver in the distance, I was glad just to sit there.  Next year I have a plan to hike an entire mountain range before repeating TM, I'm not sure I'll be able to pull myself away next time.

Classic Tony and Stephon

Algonquin in Autumn (Iroquois Too)

Peaks: Algonquin and Iroquois via the Van Hovenberg Trail
Distance: 9.4 Miles
Trail Map


Mountains sweet mountains!  I always hate when multiple months go by and I don't get a chance to visit some mountain range somewhere, but the Adirondacks in Autumn were worth the wait.  As long as I've been going to the ADKs I had never been there in the Fall, so this trip was a special treat.

We decided to hike the 2nd tallest mountain in the state, Mount Algonquin, the only other mountain in the state above 5,000 feet.  We also took on her sister peak Iroquois.  Algonquin was actually a repeat for Brian and I, but when we first climbed it we didn't realize that we needed to cross over it in order to get to Iroquois.  It made for some cool comparison photos since our first trip was over three years ago and in the late spring when it was still quite icy.

The climb was surprisingly easy despite some 4,000 feet of elevation gained between the two peaks.  The mountains had an almost ghostly silence about them in the still air; we rarely have such good luck with the weather.  We had some awesome laughs coming up the mountain since we designated it "Bad Pun Day", it was punderful (see what I did there?!).  When Brian and I had reached Iroquois it marked our 23rd peak, halfway to our goal! Allie had never been on Algonquin so she got to catch up to us in her tally.  We celebrated with some improvised dances that would embarrass the most shameless amongst us.  Upon returning to camp we took in the colors and eachother's company as much as we could before it was time to head out the next morning.  The colors were simply unreal.

My favorite part of the entire trip, as it often is, was hanging out in my tent (A.K.A. the Love Shack since it's the only one large enough to hold the three of us).  We picked a different campsite than usual because the end of the summer limits the availability of campsites throughout the region.  We thought ourselves lucky to find a site close to the trailhead last second , little did we know this site had a creation entirely foreign to our crew: "quiet hours".  After we polished off two six packs in a riveting game of Kings, our friendly campground "host" informed us quiet hours were upon us.  We replied by politely continuing to drink and "whispered" accordingly.  We could not remember the host's name for the life of us, so we called him "Ned"; he just looked like a Ned.  I came to the conclusion that our overly friendly host had a disposition similar to Barney.  Upon speaking those words aloud Allie's eyes nearly popped out of her head as she exclaimed "He's not cool! Oh, you mean the dinosaur, I thought you meant Stinson."  The laugh that ensued was so vociferous Ned came on back to remind us of both the time and definition of quiet hours.  By then we were all too tired from laughing to go on.  We acquiesced to Ned's request and went off to bed.  Oh Ned.

OK!  The part I've been waiting for!  So Allie has the nasty habit of falling asleep on Brian and I when we're driving, making her seem a bit like an extraterrestrial when her hair covers her face and the unearthly snoring ensues.  I warned her I was going to make a collage if she kept it up; she didn't heed my warning.  So I proudly give you "Allie or Alien?"

Not to be biased though, look at this perfectly wonderful shot of me that Brian botched up with a ridiculous face the first time we climbed Algonquin.  Cheers!