Once you buy into it, camping is cool. And it leaves memories.
Like in the pre-dawn hours on the Hudson River. I camped in the woods off the river across the house of my former newspaper pal Wayne Hall in Cornwall-on-Hudson.
I was awaoken a few times by the freight trains that rumbled through the night. But when awoke, and zipped open the flap that offered a window on the Hudson River, I just stared.
The sky was streaked with pink and lavender and coral colors, the river paid homage by reflecting the hues.
A nice way to start a day.
It was gorgeous before daybreak.
Hudson Highlands, just south of Beacon.
My accommodations last night and early this morning. Check out the sky's color. How's that for walking out your front door first thing in the morning.
When I left Cornwall-on-Hudson at 6 am today, I was confronted by a gang of deer taking over the streets. I was scared.
Remember when I mentioned it's tough to go home. We had great memories as a family watching outdoor flicks at this drive-in two miles from our house. Now look at this wreck. Sad.
I drobe from Cornwall-on-Hudson to Spring Valley, which was my starting point for a 60-miler that ended with the last five miles in the rain. Looks like more rain into Sunday. The bicycling is rained out, and I'll be at my college pal Bruce Graham's house tonight in Fairfield, Ct.
Harriman State Park this morning. Before the rains came.
With so much rain, every lake and creek and brook was churning with lots of water. Like this in Harriman State Park.
Where I got my first real road bicycle -- the Schwinn store on Route 59 in Spring Valley. It was a Schwinn Le Tour. I rode in the Finger lakes region. Then I took it cross country. Both arm pedals broke. The rear derailleur exploded. And when I got home there was a crack in the frame near the bottom bracket. Other than those things, the bike performed just swimmingly.
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