2021-06-09 41 -73

Location

In the forests of Hudson Highlands State Park in Philipstown, NY.

Participants

Expedition

When a geohash comes up that's on the edge of being too far to drive to, but it's in a perfect spot for a nice afternoon stroll without worrying about private property, you know you've gotta go for the hash. After a fairly productive day working at home, I left my desk a little earlier than normal and headed down the Taconic State Parkway until I turned off to drive through the scenic Clarence Fahnestock State Park. I've done lots of good hiking in there, but today's mission required crossing Route 9 and entering the less-familiar Hudson Highlands State Park, close to the village of Cold Spring. The blue trail that I would need to follow looked very overgrown at its start, but it turned out to be well-marked and lovely. It took me about 15 minutes to hike to the spot where I'd have to leave the trail, and along the way I spotted an enormous rock that was split in two and begging me to summit it. For now, I resisted the urge and found the spot to leave the trail. The hash was closer to the road that hugged the park's edge and down a slight incline, but it wasn't far away at all, so it only took me a couple minutes to find a spot that both myself and my GPS agreed must be the place.

After reveling in my accomplishment for a minute, as is customary, I found the path again and headed back to my car. On the way, I tried to appreciate the peacefulness of the isolation I found myself in, since there was nary another soul to be found on the trail. That was easier said than done when there were flies whispering sweet little nothings into my ear, and the fear that I would encounter a bear or snake all by my lonesome, but I still enjoyed the walk a lot. I also made time to scale the aforementioned rock, which of course was a must-do. As I walked through the last stretch of woods before I made it to my car, I realized that for some reason, the trees in this grove struck me as especially enormous. There was a particular white-barked tree, probably not birch, that towered above me and looked gorgeous with the light streaming by it as it broke the canopy. The scene made me feel like I was in a patch of gigantic seaweed in Subnautica, only without the fear of those sharks that scavenge metal coming for my throat. That feeling made me appreciate the fact that the awe of your environment one can feel in a video game is just about as powerful as the awe one gets from nature, a compelling argument to make against someone trashing video games as useless. I need to get back to playing that game soon.