Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Portlandia…Maine

It's been a second since my last post.  I don't even have a good reason other than being distracted by a whole lot of nothing.  I think the nothingness of Central New York is a bit mind numbing sometimes.  It's easy to get into a malaise unless you make a constant effort to stay engaged.

Something noteworthy that did happen was visiting Portland Maine to see my friend Allie before she moved to the West coast with her new boyfriend.  As much as I've traveled in the Northeast, Maine has always missed me somehow; I HAVE NO IDEA WHY!

For someone who is obsessed by hippie lands like Vermont and Ithaca, lord knows how Portland missed my radar.  Portland is seemingly covered in folks below the age of 40 and about as far from mainstream as it gets.  The downtown is bursting with head shops, secondhand stores, co-ops, fair trade cafes, breweries, cocktail bars and what can only be described as hippie-hipster hybrids that work and patronize all the above.





We stopped by a shop that specializes in French Fries that are fried in duck fat.  It's fittingly called Duck Fat.  Whilst dipping our 4,000 calories worth of fries into various sauces, we drove to the Portland Headlight, a classic lighthouse a few miles outside of town.  It was a perfectly foggy New England day so we got to hear the blast of the horn and witness the flash of the lamp as it warned uncertain sailors of the presence of land.


If Portland is good for anything though, its food and beer…I had far too much of both.  Bull Feeny's is one of the oldest pubs in town, with over 200 whiskies on stand by.  Move around the corner and you'll find a merry band of hippies selling recycled and/or fair trade-organic everything.  Turn right and you'll find the pop corn specialty shop, with flavors like XXXBuffalo and wasabi dill.  Head up Exchange St a few steps further and you can either swing a right and got to the salt shop, wherever everything is made out of…well…salt.  Or swing a left and you can hit Bard Coffee and get a nitro infused coffee that tastes just like a Guinness if you close your eyes.



I could go on all day with the quirky shops and flavorful drinks and dishes, but all I can say in the end is go there!  I HIGHLY recommend Marcy's cafe, the infamous sight where a screaming child and neglectful parent caused the owner to blow her top, making a national news story that would go on for weeks.  The sign above the counter say's it all: "Darla's Place".

See it for yourself and get a big slice of peace, love and "lobstah."

Thursday, October 29, 2015

The 46ers Film

The 46ers Film: 4/5 stars

I've seen a lot of new climbing films in the last couple of months.  Meru was spectacular, Everest was an expected dud, but my favorite was an understated independent film about the mountains I know the best, The Adirondack High Peaks.



The 46ers film goes to show that a climbing movie can be missing the special effects of Everest and the blood chilling risk of Meru and still touch the viewer on a deep level.  Am I biased?  You bet your bottom I am!  However, this film had a warmth and charm about it that would make anyone want to wander through the ADK's.

Directed by the young Blake Cortright, the film interviews those who were aspiring or already have completed hikes on all 46 high peaks.  The film manages to track down some of the oldest 46ers still with us, including a 96 year old woman who was amongst the first 50 to achieve the feat.  The best part of the film was when she retold the story of chasing down a Black Bear with pots and pans until it dropped her lunch.  When asked if she was scared, she replied with a nearly dismissive "no."


You're also given the story of how the Adirondack Park came to be protected, how several "high" peaks fell below the 4,000 foot mark, the inevitable comparison to other mountain ranges and the story of how the mountains can, indeed, be deadly.  

Running an hour, the movie is as beautiful as it is a fantastic chain of personal stories.  A pleasant and heartfelt change from the overly intense films that have been dominating films about the mountains.

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Everest: Into Thin Air and a Thinner Story

Everest: 2/5 stars

I'm coming into the Everest film debate a little late, but I just can't help myself.  In my review of Meru, written before seeing Everest, I suspected that the film was going to be too digitally dense, with special effects burying the story of the actual tragedy.  Well, I was right.


The story of the 1996 disaster is well-known in mountaineering circles by now, mostly because of the highest-selling climbing book ever written, John Krakauer's Into Thin Air.  The book was immediately turned into an atrocious made-for-TV film that remained the only depiction of the event until Everest.  The film is not an adaptation of the book though.  In fact, Krakauer had some choice words for the film:


"It's total bull...Anyone who goes to that movie and wants a fact-based account should read Into Thin Air"


However, he may have a personal reason for being upset.  One of the more uncomfortable moments of the film occurs when Krakauer (portrayed by House of Cards actor Michael Kelly) refuses to aid the rescue effort due to a mixture of fear and snow blindness.  Kelly trembles as he utters "I don't want to die man."

I'm not sure which account is accurate, but that calls the film's validity into question.  Aside from the accuracy issues, the acting is generally good, with Jason Clark, Jake Gyllenhaal and Jason Brolin delivering stellar performances, when they actually acted that is.


Everest, like most disaster films, has an issue with giving the viewer a high-quality narrative in-between the avalanches, equipment malfunctions and sudden thunder snows.  Other than the heart-wrenching conversations between Rob Hall and his pregnant wife, it's difficult to develop a solid sense of each climber's humanity, let alone why their risking it all.  The film takes the "they don't even know" method, leaving you to assume why each climber signed-up for the life-threatening struggle.  Unlike Cloverfield or 2012 though, these men and women actually existed and had complex and compelling stories that were glossed over to show how advanced special effects have become.


The difference between a film like Meru and a film like Everest is simply success vs disaster.  The former is a film for climbers and outdoors enthusiast, the later is a Hollywood crowd-pleaser meant for the masses.  Meru has its real-life, harrowing elements, but ultimately wants to show how skilled mountaineers preserver.  Would a film about a successful mountain ascent sell like Everest?  Probably not.  Perhaps that's why the director and screenwriters chose to depict a slow-motion catastrophe that was eerily missing the human element.  There's something macabre in simply watching life coldly snuffed out over a two and a half hour timespan.    

Monday, October 19, 2015

Under the Rainbow is Skaneateles

Just west of Syracuse New York, lies the town of Skaneateles.  Normally this kind of town would barley register on my radar.  It's small, homogenous, uberly rich and, well, boring most of the year.  When I'm not out hiking or something of the sort though, I'm working my butt off at a winery that operates out of the town.  How did I get from political science to managing a wine bar?  I'll save that for another post.  I've been here for over a year now though and have been able to find the character and charm that this town exudes once I started paying attention.  And then, once upon a rainy day:



Skaneateles has never looked so good. With plenty of bars, restaurants, local artisan shops and of course me, the town is well worth a visit.  Just head down to White Birch winery and ask for Stephon.  Drinks on the house.  Cheers.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Letchworth in Autumn

Being the Millennial I am, most of my trips start as Google searches.  When I glimpsed an image of Letchworth State Park, about 30 minutes south of Rochester NY, I was taken by an image of a shroud of clouds surrounding the "Great Bend" in the Genesee River.  I swore up and down I was going to catch it for myself.  Waking up at 4am was the price I had to pay, but look what I was rewarded with in return:



They call Letchworth "The Grand Canyon of the East."  Having been to the actual Grand Canyon, I can say that is a bit of an overstatement, but who cares?  Letchworth has three gorgeous waterfalls and one of the deepest gorges I've ever seen outside of Arizona.  You can hike the entire park, but if you take the most popular route you'll be sharing the hike with the road.

It is a built-up park and always has been.  Some of the trails on the East side of the park follow the path of a canal built in the early 1800's that connected the Allegheny River with the Erie Canal.  Nowadays the park is less industrial and more touristy, with campsites and an Inn just feet from the gorge.  The splendor can't be ruined though, with plenty of secluded points to enjoy in peace.  Let my pictures do the talking though. Cheers!

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Meru: Strictly for the Climbers

Brew: Guinness 1759 Edition. 5/5 Stars

I'm a Guinness fanboy so I had to review one of my favorite editions.  Before Guinness made their world famous stout, the original brewmaster made an ale.  This is a throwback to the original.  The malted flavors burst through with sweet caramel and butterscotch notes.  9% ABV. Go find it!


Meru: 4/5 Stars

I know everyone is excited about the new Everest film, but for anyone in the climbing community, you have already heard that tragic story the better part of a hundred times.  Furthermore, all the theatrical effects and creative license taken by its producers (touching the "tip" of the summit, really?) it's not really a climber's film anymore.
                        


Meru is strictly for the climbers (available now for streaming and preorder).  No special effects, no dramatizations, not even a camera man really.  Instead you're left with a portrait of three men, suspended in mid-air, slowly scaling one of the most technically difficult climbs on Earth.

I'll be honest, I never heard of Meru or its notorious "shark fin" until the film.  After a quick bit of research before the film I got a good sense of the daring/insanity in attempting the climb.  The mountain is nearly 21,000 feet of unforgiving mixed-climbing.  The three climbers were far from amateurs though.  Jimmy Chin has been the subject of many articles, always glowing with admiration.  Conrad Anker was the veteran of the crew, having been trained by the legendary Mugs Stump, and credited with finding the body of George Mallory on Everest.  Renan Ozturk was the newcomer.  I've always dreamt of being a climbing dirt bag and living out of my Camry for while.  Renan kicks it up a notch by forgoing the car and even a tent, living out of a sleeping bag in the American Southwest.


I won't spoil too much for you, but I will say that this is actually about three stories in one.  There's multiple climbing attempts and numerous scrapes with death, both on and off Meru.  **Minor spoiler alert**  One of my favorite parts of the film occurs when a storm pins the team in place for about a week.  Having only brought enough food for another couples days, logically it would seem that the expedition was coming to an end, as one member of the team believed.  I couldn't help laughing when the other two members never even considered descending, despite being left with only cheese.  Needless to say, the third member was quite confused.


This is definitely a film strictly for climbers.  What I mean by that is those outside the community will do what they always do when confronted with the types of images and situations mountaineers find themselves in: roll their eyes at best, call us selfish lunatics at worst.  This is what climbing films often look like without the dramatization, I think this is a good thing though.  While the masses fill up seats for the next Everest film, Meru will act as a realistic counter-balance to Hollywood.

Thrilling.  Captivating. Breathtaking.  Heart Breaking.  Go see Meru!

Sunday, October 4, 2015

When a Road Trip Turns South: South of the Border, S.C.

I've traveled to the South Eastern portion of the US once or twice a year for a long time now.  I used to have family in Atlanta, and now an ever increasing number of my girlfriend's family lives in the Carolinas.  Despite being a hardcore, North Eastern Leftist, I always manage to have a decent time in Dixie.

This time we headed down for the merry matrimony of my girlfriend's cousin.  The wedding was on the South Carolina coast, the far more tropical sibling of its northern counterpart.  It made for a incredible setting.


Having driven down in the middle of the night, somehow I missed the tragic comedy called South of the Border.  Driving back in the daytime, I had no choice but to notice.  Before we proceed, let me be clear: DO NOT GO TO SOUTH OF THE BORDER.

Just in case you missed that:
DO NOT GO TO SOUTH OF THE BORDER


The facility was too intriguing not to go to while I was still ignorant.  For over 100 miles there's billboards announcing the park's existence.  The cost of advertisement in South Carolina must be exceedingly cheap, because I saw no less than three dozen signs announcing I was getting closer and closer to this magic, Mexican-themed fairyland.  I knew it was going to be a trap, but I just couldn't help it.  After all, they were trying reaaalllly hard to get me there.  

I gleefully pulled off the highway to the most bizarre "attraction" I've ever seen.  Playing on the fact the park was just South of the North Carolina border would be one thing.  To take every stereotyped perception of Mexicans and turn it into a theme park was disturbing.  I was too hungry to fully take in the sombrero tower, but as I was in the midst of my frozen burger, I noticed everything was one ridiculous cartoon.  The rides looked ill-maintained and the employees looked like they were going to flee to actual Mexico for better employment. And the food? Best said by one customer with a thick Long Island accent:

"I didn't think you could F*** up a Hot Dog!!! How did you do it?!"
Even the waiter had to laugh at that one.  I walked out into the balmy South Carolina air feeling rightfully suckered.  I'm not sure how the owners raised enough money for all those billboards.  Are there really that many stupid drivers on route 95?  Then again, it must be the billboards that does it.  Have a look:




I know what you're thinking.  It's like the Napoleon Dynamite of attractions; you have to go just to see how bad it is.  DON'T!  Please keep driving.  South Carolina had better things to offer than South of the Border.  You were warned here on Trail Lust.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Dead Mountain: When the Mountains don't Want be Conquered

Brew: Nosferatu, by Great Lakes Brewing Company 2/5 stars

It seemed fitting given the time of year and the book I'm reviewing.  Very bitter, high octane at 8% abv, and I swear it taste like fermented squash.  Not my favorite.



The sad part about being an adventurer in the 21st Century is that everything seems to already have been explored.  We've reached the bottom of the sea, the roof of the planet atop Everest, we've even began mapping mega caves that could swallow skyscrapers.  I think the lack of mystery in the current world led to the writing of Dead Mountain by Donnie Eicher.  We feel the need to solve history's mysteries as our own are often not all that mysterious.

Dead Mountain follows nine adventures in the former Soviet Union as they attempt to attain their countries top certification for hikers in 1959.  *Spoiler Alert* They all die....well...almost.  One hiker turns back before reaching the ultimate destination in the Ural Mountains.  On the surface nothing is too odd about a group of hikers getting lost and unfortunately perishing in a Siberian winter.  Chillingly though, when the bodies of the hikers were found, the men and women of the group were under dressed, most of them barefoot, and several with blunt force trauma to their bodies.  They had all fled their tent in the middle of the night.

If this type of incident occurred outside the USSR and the context of the Cold War, it might be less interesting.  The fog of the Cold War makes everything more intriguing though.  The explanations for their death range from avalanches, government conspiracies, and, of course, alien abduction.  Personally, I enjoy anything that is so inexplicable that hostile extraterrestrials become a viable hypothesis.  In reality though, the loss of the Dyatlov Group (named after their leader Igor Dyatlov) struck an emotional chord with many Russians of the day, and continues to be the raw material of so much speculation and folklore.

Donnie Eicher does some special things that most other investigators have been unwilling or unable to do.  Firstly, finding the reclusive sole survivor of the group.  Secondly, he retraced the groups exact steps through Russia and the Urals.  Eicher refused to be swayed by theories regarding aliens, scientifically dismisses the idea of an avalanche, and recognizes the dearth of evidence to implicate the Soviet authorities.



**Bigger Spoiler Alert** One of my favorite findings of the story is that the tent the hikers had fled sustained several man made slashes.  I began to think this was a definitive murder case and Eicher was going to crack it wide open.  Later, it was discovered that there were only nine sets of footprints in and around the tent, and more disturbingly, the slashes were made from inside the tent, presumably from someone trying to escape.  Fresh out of my own theories, I became intrigued in Eicher's, just to be let down horrendously.



Due to a series of events I can't quite recall, the author finds himself at several prestigious universities to investigate the effects that sound has on the human body.  Eicher ultimately lands on a wholly unsatisfying answer: the wind killed them.  The gale force winds coming over the conical summit of the mountain where the hikers were camping, created an effect called a Karman Vortex Street, basically a tornado of sound that is terrifying to the hearer.  Furthermore, infra sound, or subsonic vibration of the inner ear, also brought havoc.  Infra sound can cause everything from migraines and nausea, to a deep feeling of paranoia.  These dual causes were apparently enough to drive the students from their tent and become lost in the snow, where they either froze to death or fell down a ravine, causing the physical injuries.


Why I Think it's Hogwash

I deeply appreciate the move away from conspiracy theories and the supernatural to explain unknown phenomena, however, this one is a stretch.  Now, I'm a lowly political scientist who hikes and writes a blog, no sound specialist by a long shot.  I'm well aware of the effects of infra sound though, which has been a big sticking point to commercial windmill placement, but I can't find too many incidents where it has sparked mass hysteria.  I'm sure such an outcome is possible in a controlled environment, but if this is something that happens in nature, I feel like we'd have a lot more crazed hikers.  I'm new to the concept of Karman Vortex Streets, but I wonder how terrifying a sound it could have been to drive nine, hyper-experienced hikers, barefoot and partially unclothed into sub-zero temps.

Given the well organized and generally undisturbed manner of the tent, it would seem as if these effects would have happened instantaneously.  The only sign of "struggle" was the rip in the tent.  Basically, a switch would have had to flip and launch all nine hikes, simultaneously, but without coordination, into chaotic hysteria and flight, leaving both their wits and boots behind, with no time to react or coordinate a plan.  That I simply don't buy.  Mass Hysteria is real, as is infra sound and Vortex Streets, but I imagine these things do not create universally understood terror in an instantaneous manner.  I imagine someone would have the where with all to shout, "Hey Igor! Don't forget your boots!"

This incident may forever be the result of what the Soviet authorities called it a half-century ago: "Unknown compelling force."

Thursday, August 6, 2015

The Vermont 4000 Footer Challenge

I'm going to preface this by admitting I did not rise to my own challenge.  HOWEVER, I'm positive it can be safely done.  Vermont has five peaks over 4,000 feet.  In many places throughout the Northeast it's possible to summit five or more such mountains in about half a day.  Vermont is a bit different though.  The southern most peak, Killington, is nearly a two hour drive from the northern most, Mansfield.  Not to mention, only two of the peaks can be climbed in tandem, the rest are single accents requiring a lot of hopping in and out of the car.


The Challenge
You can probably guess where this is going.  Starting at either Mansfield or Killington, you must bag all five peaks in a single day.  I started this journey from Central New York, meaning I did not get to Killington's trailhead until about 10am.  By the time I came down from my third peak of the day it was just past five.  I'm sure I could have completed the challenge, but had no interest of doing so in the dark.  Starting at around 5am should make this challenge both rewarding and a lot of fun.  Here's how I did!

Killington

Killington is the second tallest summit in the state, but like all but one summit you will conquer, it's highly developed by ski resorts and mountain biking trails.  The development ruins the serenity, but it makes for a quick and steep climb.  The best way to climb Killington is to take the most direct route up, following the main ski lift up a leg-busting 1,600 feet in just 1.1 miles.  I do not recommend taking this way down.  The trail is overgrown and difficult to find your footing.  It is a beautiful view for your effort.  Take note of the Long Trail that crosses over the summit.





Killington has an odd color-letter route system that you can follow back down.  All in all, the trip was about a 3.3 miles and took me about an hour and a half.  Not bad for a high peak.

Abraham and Ellen

You got to hit the road! Take VT 100 and snake your way to Sugarbush ski resort.  It takes a bit over an hour from Killington.

I approached this ascent wrong!  After my success climbing Killington with breakneck speed up the ski lift, I thought Abe and El could be done the same.  Despite being lower than Killington, there is well over 2,400 feet of elevation gain between the two climbs.  I took on a lift lane that was under construction, only to find that after a brutally long ascent, I was only 70% of the way up; I was not pleased.  The rest of the climb was on utility roads and finally back to the Long Trail.


Summit of Abe
Abraham offered sensational views of the Green Mountains to the North and the Adirondacks to the West, right across from Lake Champlain.  It was breathtaking, but like all challenges that involve a race against time, I could only linger for a few moments.  Ellen was neither fun, nor beautiful.  The trudge to Ellen felt long and claustrophobic, only to reach a mostly wooded summit with the only clearing being the top of a ski lift not too far off the route.



I wasn't too tore up about having to leave.  By the time I made my way to the foot of Abraham I would see the sun starting to move down rapidly.  I knew I could take on Camel's Hump in good time and have a great view of the sunset, but I would end taking on Mansfield in the dark.  I decided to cut my losses and head to Burlington for a beer.

Camel's Hump, Mansfield, and Your Turn!

I would love to see someone else tear this challenge up, so here's my tips:
  • Camp out near Killington or Mansfield the night before and take off at first light; you'll need every bit of time you can get.
  • Utilize the ski lift lanes for Killington and Mansfield on the ascent.  
  • Don't speed on the road!  There's really no need if you're a strong hiker
  • Go South to North so you can get a beer in Burlington ;)
I'll let you know how attempt two goes.
Ramble on! Cheers.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Wanderlusting, Road Tripping Music

I love and hate road trips. I think anyone who regularly travels knows this feeling well. The actual act of traveling is always a thrill in itself. There's nothing like laying eyes on new vistas and towns for the first time, but if you're anything like me, the expansive cornfields and broken down towns can be wearing. After years of experience, I've come up with a short list of the best road trip songs, which also seem to work well if you have a life-crisis and decide to leave everything and drive to Tijuana, whichever comes first. The list, like me, favors music from the 60's and 70's, but hang in there! I swear there's some modern stuff!

It took me forever to appreciate LZ.  I just couldn't get into Robert Plant's voice on some songs, but I don't care who you are, Ramble On makes you want to drive into the sunset. Pay close attention to the Lord of the Rings references, you'll giggle.

Ramble on and now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song
I'm going around the world, I got to find my girl, on my way
I've been this way ten years to the day ramble on
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams




I'm a HUGE Hendrix fan! Jimi has a lot of "on the road" songs, so I could have filled this whole post with them, but I took the most fitting. The song is semi-autobiographical, so you can easily picture a young Jimi strolling down the road, thumb in hitchhike position.

Yeah, his guitar slung across his back
His dusty boots is his cadillac
Flamin' hair just a blowin' in the wind
Ain't seen a bed in so long it's a sin
He left home when he was seventeen
The rest of the world he had longed to see
But everybody knows the boss
A rolling stone who gathers no moss


I was going back and forth between which CCR song I was going to add.  Sweet Hitchhiker was also a top contender. Up Around the Bend not only stokes the image of running away into something simpler and more beautiful, it warns us, Alexander Supertramp style, that the mainstream is going down fast.

There's a place up ahead and
I'm going just as fast as my feet can fly
Come away, come away if you're going,
Leave the sinking ship behind. 





I swear, it's my last pick from the 60's or 70's.   Admittedly, Steve Miller and CCR make up about half my road trip music. I think I was born in the wrong era. Take the Money and Run though is one of my classic favorites. I swear, there's no other song that puts a smile on my face like this one.

This here's a story about Billy Joe and Bobbie Sue
Two young lovers with nothin' better to do
Than sit around the house, get high, and watch the tube
And here is what happened when they decided to cut loose

Fly Away is the wanderlust anthem.  Driving guitar and a liberating rhythm, Lenny captures the spirit of free spiritedness.

I wish that I could fly
Into the sky
So very high
Just like a dragonfly
I'd fly above the trees
Over the seas in all degrees
To anywhere I please

I know, I know, you've heard it a thousand times, but it still needs to be part of any adventure's soundtrack, particularly one into the mountains.

I heard them calling in the distance
So I packed my things and ran
Far away from all the trouble
I had caused with my two hands
Alone we travelled armed with nothing but a shadow
We fled, far away



Australian Indie rock has never produced a better group than The Holidays. Conga's hypnotic and mellow beat will take you home for the final stretch of the trip. The positive lyrics will see you through life with a smile on the face.

Have you told them, have you told them
About our place where skies are golden
Life is free
Beneath the trees



90's. Anti-establishment. Dance music.....more than enough said.

Money, sex in full control, a generation without soul
Perfect people in a perfect world,
Behind closed doors all in control
Life, in a world of luxury,
Cold cash money mentality
You gotta keep the faith, you gotta keep the faith
You'd better keep the faith and run away



I have more songs I could recommend, but top-10 lists are cliche, so I think a top 8 is awkwardly perfect. Cheers!

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Lost and Found in Ithaca

Despite my absence from the blog and the mountains, I actually have been quite active.  Living in Ithaca has its perks.  I live 20 miles or less to what many will travel across the state to see.  Ithaca may not be surrounded by the peaks I prefer, but the gorges, glens and waterfalls more than make up for it....well, almost.

After losing my phone I was nervous my most recent hikes would be lost.  I'm going back and forth over taking a trip to Colorado for a couple months, so I wouldn't see the gorges again until they were back in their autumn splendor.  The fall colors are breathtaking, but the sole benefit of having weeks of never ending rain is that the rivers are swollen and their cascades rage pretty furiously.  Thank Guinness for Instagram!  I lost some photos, but at least a few memories were saved, like massive Lucifer Falls at Robert Treman Park,




and the enchanting serenity of Fillmore Glenn, just outside of Ithaca,





and of course, one of many trips to Taughannock falls.



With any luck I'll gather the courage and resources to leap into the unknown for a while and finally spend time in mountain sound of the Rockies, but even if I do, I'll miss summer in the Republic of Ithaca.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Syriacuse: From Handguns to Hope

I think this is the longest I've gone without blogging since I launched the blog: yikes! Firstly, I haven't been to the mountains in over half the year (typing that makes me feel faint).  Secondly, I've been continuing to enjoy the natural and cultural beauty of Ithaca.  I've hiked and biked all through the area.....and then I lost my phone with all my pictures.  No, I don't want to talk about it.

So far, 2015 has been kind of a dud.  The winter was truly vicious.  I remember looking up the temperature atop Mount Marcy during a cold snap in February (the coldest Feb on record) and the high for the day was only a few degrees warmer than Everest.  Despite record high temps in May, June ended up being one of the wettest and chilliest on record.

Needless to say, I'm looking forward to July, or at least I was until this past weekend.  What should have been a weekend of BBQ's and Sangria erupted in 10 shootings thorough the city of Syracuse, about an hour north of Ithaca.  To put that in perspective, Chicago, a city just shy of 3 million people, saw 7 gun deaths in the same period.  These types of incidents led the city to dubbed Chiraq by some.  Syracuse, on the other hand, has a population of about 145,000; Syriacuse did not make CNN headlines.  Overall, crime has dipped in Syracuse like most other major cities throughout the last few decades, but incidences like this past weekend are still not all that uncommon.

While I was sifting through news on the shootings, I had suddenly had enough and just wanted to plan my next trip to the Adirondacks.  Along my flurry of Google searches I found an article about Mountain Lake Academy.  The academy is an experimental school that takes in at-risk teenage boys and exposes them to the glory of the ADKs along with academic training and community service.  My mind immediately began to fill with scenes of merry kids from urban and rural slums climbing peaks, kayaking and fishing, all free from the consumer-driven idiocy of pop culture, similar to Benton Mackaye's original vision for the Appalachian Trail. Whether MLA is Mackaye's "retreat from profit" with an academic twist, I'm not sure.  However, I am quite sure that institutions that focus on both natural beauty and intellectual enrichment, opposed to submission, have a much better shot of ending the war zone that plagues places like Syracuse...or Syria for that matter.



With that off my chest....the blog is back, I swear! My wanderlust is kicking in pretty badly, so I'm sure I'll have more trail antics and adventures to report soon!

Friday, January 9, 2015

The People's Republic of Ithaca

I've waited a few months to write this post because I wanted to become fully immersed in my latest home before I wrote about it.  Unlike when I wrote about Vermont, I have the pleasure of actually residing in this Republic.  If you didn't catch my VT post, there are several cities, and sometimes entire states, that are derisively and lovingly called "The People's Republic."  That title is normally only given to communist nations, but these cities have managed to become such havens for everything Left-wing and Hippie that both their critics and admirers assign the title to them; I very much fall into the later category.  It's my mission to visit all of the Republics in time, but really I would love to live in a few.








My current home is the People's Republic of Ithaca in Central New York.  Ithaca has the noteworthy distinction of having had a socialist mayor for 12 years, being ranked as the 7th best city for Hippies (We're coming for you Burlington!) and holds the record for the world's largest human peace sign.  To further buck against the system, Ithaca has its own currency, Ithaca Hours, which can only be spent in the city to further encourage local economic growth.  I could go on and rave about our renowned farmer's market and the fact we have more bookstores than banks it seems like.  In fact, you could forgo the bank all together and just use the Alternatives community credit union, or slap capitalist consumerism and shop the the Greenstar Coop (of course I'm a card carrying member!)




























Sorry, I got a little Ithaca high for a second.  Very Importantly though, Ithaca is gorges!  Ya get it?!  ....we have a lot of waterfalls.  Try to keep up!  In fact, because of the abundance of cascading rivers, kayaking on Cayuga Lake, and a plethora of other cycling and running opportunities, Outdoor Magazine listed Ithaca as the 5th best city to live in!  In my months living here, I couldn't agree more!  I have the pleasure of living 800 feet from Ludlowville Falls, but it looks like a cascade compared to Ithaca Falls, which sits at the base of beautiful Cornell University.  Not too far down the road you'll have the pleasure of scaling about a billion stairs up the Cascadilla Gorge Trail, enjoying the sight of about a dozen cascading waterfalls.  However, my favorite is the 200 foot tall Taughannock Falls just North of the city.  Taller than Niagara, Taga-knock-aknock-aknock-aknock (What Brian and I have been calling it since we were 12), like all the other falls, only requires a mile worth of hiking to enjoy its splendor.  Despite having a number of challenging bike paths, foot races and a wealth of "hot" yoga courses, most of Ithaca's pleasures are within minimum to medium physical effort.






     
I had to pause writing this post to grab some vanilla-cherry, hemp granola (Not even joking) for my hormone-free yogurt. Anyway, if you'd like to visit the world's greatest attempt at blending a National Park with Woodstock, CNY has a place for you!  I'll be here with open arms beneath the "Resistance" sign in the Commons, just be sure to bring your walking shoes (Or not actually: see below) or bike, there's no cars allowed.