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.

2014 Measured in Boots and Love

There's a lot of ways to measure and evaluate a year.  I've decided to do it Rent style and measure in love (if you don't get the reference, stop reading and immediately watch Seasons of Love).  There's a lot of things I love, but hiking produces a certain kind of love that can be hard to explain, let alone quantify.  How does one evaluate hiking when the unit of measurement is love?  Why, steps of course.  One will average 2,000 steps in a typical mile.  I estimate I hiked around 200 miles this year, giving me something like 400,000 steps, that's 400,000 footsteps of pure love.  I stepped foot for the first time on both the Appalachian Trail and the Bright Angel in the Grand Canyon, I broke the halfway mark on the way to climbing all 46 peaks in the Adirondacks, and I did it all with a smile on my face, even when isolated or close to death.

Every love story has a downside though, mine coming when I had to dump my long-time pair of boots after my grueling 40 mile hike through the Grand Canyon.  As I took one last shot of them before they were ceremoniously dumped in the trash of the GC convenience store, it dawned on me how my pair of Merrel Moabs had been with me everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE.

I'm talking winter in the Adirondacks:

Spring hitchhiking in the Appalachians:

Early summer in the Rockies:

Later summer in the dessert:

Flirted around with other boots:

And this summer met their demise at the ripe old age of two:

I feel like I'm getting more sentimental over mostly ridiculous things as time goes on, but a hiker is nothing without their boots!  Other than the love of wandering hundreds of miles, 2014 was an extreme roller coaster with rock bottom lows and nose bleed highs.  I look forward to making 2015 much more of the latter than the former, with new stories, boots and as always, love to share.  Happy New Year! 

Mount Jo: Ringing the New Year in Right

Hike Distance: ~2.5 miles

There's never a bad time to run into the mountains, but running to them for New Years is one of my favorite things to do.  Lake Placid is the jewel of the Adirondacks, with a never ending amount of indoor and outdoor activities (not to sound too much like an advertisement).  This year I went up with Eva and her family as we did two years before.  The fun started on New Year's Eve when I decided to take a walk down with Eva's brother Sam to get an energy drink so he could make it to midnight.  Several "accidental" shots of liquor named after narcotics later, I literally woke up in an entirely different bar then the one we were taking the shots in.  After an inebriated attempt to find our coats, Sam and I abandoned them and somehow stumbled home in t-shirts....in 6 degree weather.  Needless to say, we didn't make it to midnight.

To help clear our bodies of "Liquid Marijuana" Sam, Eva's other brother Mike and myself decided to hike Mount Jo, a stubby 2,870 peak that has fantastic views for the effort.  After a quick and mostly uneventful climb up, the weather cleared and gave us spectacular sights to properly ring in the New Year.  We were the first ones to summit for the day and possibly even the year!  Granted, it was a non-High Peak, but still a cool thought.

Tragedy wouldn't be far behind though, that spiteful bastard.  After what sounded like a moderate fall, Sam arose from the snow on the decent down and casually remarked, with smile still on face, "My finger's broke."  After a solid 60 seconds of laughing with him, Mike and I realized he wasn't joking, given the awkward tilt of his finger.  A quick trip to the ER and Sam's dislocated finger was back in place, with no shortage of flinches and jeers from my queazy mouth.

We all celebrated with burgers from the Redneck Bistro who, and I must agree, boasts about having the best burgers in town.  Sam buried his pain beneath the Polish Power burger, a 1/2 lb. of beef topped with a 1/2 lb. of Polish sausage.  A summit victory has never tasted sweeter.