I walked down along the Hudson on trails filled with roots and rocks. I felt a wrong step could have dropped me down fifty feet to the river’s dirty water where Spanish-speaking men were fishing unsuccessfully for dinner.
It’s impressive that most other hikers quickly don masks when passing, and avoid each other in ways that doesn’t happen at all in Florida.
Maybe the most impressive and surprising part of the walk was a couple of bald eagles that flew north from the treetops as I walked beneath them. I kept telling other hikers about them, but no one had seen them. Two women claimed to have seen some big birds, so I told them that those were the eagles… whether they were or not. Not that they were then patting themselves on the back for having seen the eagles.
The last time I was at Norrie Park was years ago on a paddle with Atlantic Kayak Tours. I remember the park much differently, though I was in a different part of the park, so it would not look the same.
Things are pretty this far up the Hudson, north of Poughkeepsie. It is a grand river with astonishing long views and a variety of interesting traffic. This area of America has been settled for so long that there are a variety of abandoned structures and dilapidated houses almost everywhere you go, and they often have a story of some fortune made and lost.
Driving home, I went to the liquor store in Rhinebeck, which felt like I had stepped in someone’s living room. It was barely a hundred square feet with a masked fat lady behind the cash register eager to talk about how hot it was. Their liquor selection was limited, of course, but I bought a couple bottles (cash only) and left with a cheerful farewell.