Month: July 2024

Three Day Jaunt: Ausable Chasm

When I was a child, my family didn’t take many vacations. My parents were teachers and money was tight. The travel we did do was associated with my dad’s continuing education. There was one exception. We took a tour of upstate New York. We lived in Brooklyn, so this was an economical, practical choice. As I recall, Dad consulted with Uncle Jack to set the itinerary. We went to Niagara Falls, Corning and Cooperstown. Uncle Jack also suggested Ausable Chasm, but that wasn’t included since it is in the northeast corner of the state; it was too far afield from the other places and would add too many miles and too much time. For some reason, the idea of going to Ausable Chasm stuck in my mind as a place I wanted see. All these years later, Gary and I made the trip this past weekend. I’m glad we did.

When Gary cut back his schedule to three days a week back on April 1st, I had visions of taking many weekend jaunts. I have a list of places that are reasonable drives that I want to go, including Ausable Chasm. Somehow, we haven’t taken any of those jaunts. Life gets in the way and Gary’s work responsibilities have not been reduced as much as I might have hoped. But, finally this past weekend presented an opportunity, so off we went.

I looked for a bed and breakfast or inn in the area (the closest city is Plattsburgh) but I didn’t have much luck finding something for all three nights. I found one place that we could stay for one night, but they had a wedding that would take up the inn for the remainder of the weekend. I decided to book that and then find another place for the other two nights.

We arrived at the Valcour Inn and Boathouse which sits on a beautiful property that faces Lake Champlain. It was an interesting place, very comfortable and lovely, but everything was handled online – there was no person to greet us. We received instructions for checking in via email. We entered the necessary codes, and we went to our room. We had access to a wide porch that ran the length of the building that looked out on the lake. 

The view from the porch

There were Adirondack chairs available – perfect to sit, read and enjoy the view. Though it felt odd not to talk to a human being, or be able to ask questions directly, the accommodations were quite comfortable. They also posted a list of recommended restaurants in the area and we chose one for lunch.

 We went to  Rove’s Café and Kitchen in Peru (yes, there is a Peru, New York. As a side note, it is interesting that our state has towns named Athens, Cairo, Mexico, among other famous world locations.) The café was a small, unassuming looking place. Appearances aren’t everything – our meals were terrific. We went back for breakfast on Sunday morning and again were not disappointed. It’s great to find a small, local place that serves excellent food instead of going to the ubiquitous chains.

Keeping with the theme of taking advantage of local amenities, we went to Peru High School to play tennis. It was sunny but  windy which made hitting the ball a bit of an adventure, but we had fun. The tennis courts had lines for pickleball and, in fact, two different sets of people showed up to play pickleball on the court next to ours but gave up because of the wind. Score one advantage to tennis which uses a heavier ball.

After perusing Google, I found an Italian restaurant in Plattsburgh for dinner, about 10 miles north of where we were staying. Nonnalisa turned out to be excellent. Again, it didn’t have much in the way of ambiance, but the woman who waited on us, who may have been the owner, was friendly and accommodating. The food was fresh and very tasty. The shopping center where the eatery was located didn’t look too lively, it was kind of desolate actually, but the restaurant was busy. Guests at two of the other tables were speaking French, a reminder that we were close to the Canadian border.

We read that it was good to arrive at Ausable Chasm early if you want to avoid waiting on a long line to get entry tickets. The park opened at 9:00 a.m. and given Gary and my sleep patterns, getting there at that hour would not be an issue. It was good advice. The Inn provided a ‘take-away’ breakfast – a pre-packaged box with yogurt, nuts, cheese and a pastry, plus coffee and juice were offered. It proved to be quite adequate and efficient. So, we got to the park just after it opened and there was no issue parking and there were only a couple of people ahead of us to buy tickets. When we returned to the Welcome Center just before noon, the line was quite long.

Ausable Chasm offers different kinds of experiences depending on the desired level of adventure. We opted for the package that included access to the hiking trails, the walk along the river and the raft excursion (there was another level up that included rock climbing, etc.). It was just the right challenge for us. The walk along the river in the chasm involved crossing suspension bridges – the kind that bounce and sway as people walk on them. It was unnerving to know that the water was rushing over rocks about fifty feet below us, but I did it without hesitating. Yay me!

One of the two suspension bridges we crossed.

The chasm offers many beautiful views from the rim and from the bottom. It is quite a geological phenomenon. And we learned that it isn’t called a canyon because of how narrow it is. You learn something new every day!

View from the rim
View of Elephant Ear from the rim
view from the floor of the chasm
another view from the bottom

The walk at the bottom is led by a tour guide. After completing the path, we were left where the raft loaded. We put on life preservers and boarded the raft. The current was mild, though there were two areas of rapids, but even those were pretty tame. It was just the right amount of excitement for me. Having gone white water rafting in Quebec and getting ejected from the raft and being rescued by my son, I was pleased that this was less exhilarating.

Once we completed the water portion of our adventure, we had a choice. We could hike back to the gatehouse or take a shuttle bus. We were ready for more hiking and we took the more challenging route. We made our way through a dry chasm – which involved climbing through and around large rocks that at one time was a river bed before time and nature did its thing and rerouted the river. It wasn’t too hard, and it was very beautiful. The light filtering through the trees and our verdant surroundings were magnificent.

hiking through the dry chasm
climbing out of the chasm

We got back to the Welcome Center feeling like we had a good workout. I needed to get postcards to send to the kids and  find a souvenir magnet to add to my wall back home and then we could check into our next accommodations – The Shamrock Inn which was just down the road. A shower was definitely in order – all that hiking in the heat, and I had soaked through my shirt. Not to mention that my hiking shoes and socks were sopping wet from the raft ride.

The Shamrock Inn provided a lovely room, clean and comfortable, though it was a bit small. The friendly owner, who checked us in and lived on the premises, recommended a place for lunch back up the road in Keeseville, a small café that was known for its great grilled cheese sandwiches. After cleaning up, off we went. We were not mislead. Those were killer grilled cheese sandwiches – and I got a frozen strawberry lemonade which was perfect after our morning’s efforts.

One of my favorite things about traveling is seeing different towns – how do other people live? What does a town offer that is charming or unusual? Does the town look to be thriving or is it struggling? Just driving the roads in and around the area was interesting. Fortunately, Gary shares my enthusiasm for that. Keeseville looked like it was trying to comeback from difficult times. Peru looked like a settled community with both established businesses and places that were struggling. In between we saw a mixture of beautiful lakefront homes and trailer parks. We like to look up the towns on Wikipedia, see if there’s some interesting history, what the population is…

In that vein, we went to the Museum of the Underground Railroad which is right next to Ausable Chasm. This area of the north country of New York State had a role in helping escaped enslaved people make it to freedom in Canada. We learned quite a bit about the journey and about some specific people who successfully made it and some local people who helped. We also learned how different views split church congregations in the area. It is a small museum, but worth the visit.

We had one more day in the area and we decided to go across Lake Champlain to Burlington, Vermont, which involved taking a short ferry ride. We rented bicycles and rode along the Burlington Greenway Bike Path which skirts the lake and traverses a causeway that connects the mainland of Vermont to Grand Isle. It was a beautiful ride that took us through forested areas, we passed public beaches, and then to the causeway. We rode 9 miles out and then turned around.

the causeway part of the bike path

We didn’t go all the way across to Grand Isle. 18 miles was sufficient for us, given that we had not biked at all in quite some time. My legs were aching, and Gary’s butt was complaining, but it was well worth it. We rewarded ourselves with  cocktails and lunch after returning the bikes. There was a restaurant on the water right across from the rental place. It was wonderful to sit in the shade, drink some water and sip a pina colada.

Me after 18 miles in 85 degree heat – I did it!

All good things must end. It was time to go home – back to the grind of work for Gary and back to my routines. Three days went by quickly, but it did feel like a mini vacation. We did all that I hoped to – satisfied my curiosity about a place I had heard of as a child, took in the beauty that is the north country of New York State, spent quality time together, learned some history, got a good deal of exercise and enjoyed good food. I look forward to our next three-day jaunt whenever and wherever that might be.

Step Aside…Both of You

First, let me state that I will vote for whoever the Democratic candidate is for President. If it is Joe Biden, I will vote for him. If it is a sack of potatoes, I will vote for it. In my mind, Trump is not an option; he is dangerous.

Second, the media should subject Donald Trump’s mental health to the same scrutiny given to Joe Biden’s condition. Op-ed pieces in major newspapers should be calling for Trump to step down (as the Philadelphia Inquirer did) for a myriad of reasons, not the least of which is that he is a convicted felon, found guilty by a jury of his peers.

With those two stipulations, I believe the right thing for Joe Biden to do is to step aside. This judgment is not offered because I think it enhances the Democrats chances in the election or consigns us to lose. It is simply the right thing for him to do.

Despite all the pundits’ insights and poll results, we don’t know how it would play out. Biden, as he currently presents, is not a strong candidate. As my brother pointed out to me, those voters who are willing to entertain voting for Trump are not being given a reason to choose Biden. So those who say that changing candidates now is a recipe for disaster, may not be clear eyed about what we are facing if he remains on the ballot.

I believe Joe Biden has been an excellent president. He has navigated unbelievably challenging times, and the country has benefitted from his administration’s policies in many ways. I have admired him throughout his career and believe him to be a good man with a kind heart, but I believe he is in denial about his cognitive abilities. This is not unusual. Unfortunately, in my family we have observed many people go down the path of dementia. Having good days and bad, covering for themselves (and family members covering for them), and not wanting to recognize what is happening are common reactions. Biden’s unwillingness to submit to a cognitive exam is troubling to say the least. Cognition doesn’t get better; they don’t recover. It just gets worse. Explaining his debate performance by saying he was tired, or it was just 90 minutes of him not at his best, does a disservice to him and the country.

When he walked stiffly, I was not alarmed. When he stuttered, I empathized. When he fumferred for words, I made little of it: who over the age of 50 doesn’t struggle to retrieve words? All of that can be understood, some of it has been true his entire public life. The incoherence at the debate, his inability to recall if he had watched the debate in the interview with Stephanopolous, are something else. He looks vacant some of the time. That is a change. This is not a matter of getting enough sleep, though I don’t doubt that is a factor. Being tired takes a toll. Unfortunately, being President of the United States is pretty much a 24/7 job. He can’t afford to have an off 90 minutes at the NATO summit today.

I believe when he made the decision to seek reelection months ago, he was in better condition cognitively. At least better enough so that it seemed reasonable to continue. Something has changed and now it is public. The patriotic thing to do is to step aside. If he doesn’t have the confidence in Kamala Harris to ‘anoint’ her, there are other options. Pundits are dwelling on the lack of an obvious choice as the reason Biden should stay in the race. I think that is short-sighted for so many reasons.

I know how important the question of who takes his place is.  And, almost equally important is the question of through what process. These are essential issues, but they are separate from whether Joe Biden should continue. We need to have confidence in our president. As much as I admire the work he has done, and believe that he has surrounded himself with competent, good people, that is not enough to lead us forward over the next four years. He no longer inspires confidence. We don’t elect a team; we elect one person. Dr. Jill, or any other person in his inner circle, should not be the de facto president.

Democrats have a convention coming up. It offers an opportunity. No, it isn’t the same as having primaries, but there is wide representation at the convention – all 50 states, different wings of the party, many of whom are elected officials in their own right. One could argue that the drawn-out candidate selection process we usually use hasn’t worked well anyway – generally speaking the extremes of the party (this is true for Republicans too) are overrepresented in the primary process. The convention may be messy, and it may be difficult, but it wouldn’t be undemocratic to let it play out that way.

As many know, my husband is a doctor. If he were to show signs of mental impairment (more than just slowing down) such that his judgment was no longer sound, and he was in denial about it, I would feel an obligation to step in. The consequences of his making mistakes are too high, people’s lives are at stake, I would need to discuss it with his colleagues, and of course urge him to retire. It would be painful. I would hate to be in that position, but in good conscience I could not delude myself or him. I would not want him humiliated by not being able to meet the extraordinarily high standards he has met his entire career. I would want to preserve his dignity in the process, but I could not let him put patients at risk. Joe Biden has far more responsibility for far more people. Those around him owe it to the country and owe it to Joe Biden to be honest about what is happening. It doesn’t sound like they are doing that. They may think they are protecting him or the country, but they aren’t.

Finally, for those who look back at history to try to predict how this will go, there are important differences between now and any previous time. Everything goes so much faster now thanks to (or we can blame) the internet and social media. People’s attention spans are shorter. One might argue that having a shorter period of time to campaign in a concentrated way could be more effective. The candidate might not be losing much, if anything at all, by being out front only from August to November. I don’t believe we have faced an analogous situation in our history.

By the way, though this is truly yelling into the void, the Republicans need to cast aside Trump and choose another candidate, too.

I’ve Been Here Before

What do you do when you are sad?  Do you go about your business with a heavy heart? Do you take steps to cheer yourself up? Maybe it depends on the source of your sadness…if you can even identify it.

When I’m feeling down, I often turn to writing. This explains the fact that many of my blog posts reflect that mood. I don’t want to be a complete bummer, but the inspiration to write often comes from feeling bad and needing to sort it out. Believe it or not, I have about 370 (!) posts on my blog, with probably less than 10 of those from guest writers. I wonder what percentage are about feeling depressed or disappointed? I do try to end them on a hopeful note.

But, writing and sharing helps me and I hope it helps my readers. It helps me process my thoughts, clarify my thinking and sometimes reset my mood. When I get feedback, it feels validating. I know I am not alone. Plus, it feels like a constructive thing to do, instead of wallowing. Sometimes I do need to wallow a bit, but I try to limit that. Putting pen to paper, or seeing the words on my computer screen, can help to take the sting out of the emotion. There’s a quote from Mr. Rogers (yes, Fred Rogers, he was quite wise) that says: “Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.” Smart man, that Mr. Rogers. The stuff we hide away, mostly from ourselves, is the stuff that does the most damage.

I also find that usually when I am in a mood like this, it isn’t just one thing. There might be an incident or disappointment that pushes me over the edge, but there were likely other things that accumulated. So sorting it out, naming them, is helpful.

I have “finished” my manuscript for my memoir. I put quotes around finished because I feel like it will never really be done. I know it needs further editing, so there is that. But, also, every time I read portions of it, I tinker with the words, think of other potential scenes, wonder if it is any good. I could probably work on it forever. It reminds me of an observation Professor Weisband, one of my favorites from SUNY-Binghamton, made. I took a seminar with him that required a major research paper (it had to be 50 pages or more). Mine was on the U.S.-Soviet SALT talks. I was endlessly reading and finding new material. I asked him how you knew when your research was done. He basically said, you don’t. You decide to start writing. On the one hand, it was a very unsatisfying answer. On the other, I have found it to be largely true. You may realize that pieces are missing when you are writing and do some more digging, but at some point, and it may feel arbitrary, you have to stop and see what you have. I feel that way about my memoir.

Despite feeling like it may or may not be done, I have decided to move to the next phase which is trying to find a literary agent. I won’t go into the details of this grueling process but suffice it to say it is a little like auditioning for movies or plays. Mostly it involves rejection – or in this case, unanswered queries. No answer is the answer. I’ve only sent out 7 so far. There are hundreds, probably thousands, of agents. I will need to send out many, many more. At some point, again, perhaps an arbitrary decision, I can stop and decide to self-publish, but I want to give this a shot. It is hard not to be discouraged, especially when you feel so uncertain about whether your project is worthy. I remind myself to be proud of the fact that I am even doing this – I set a goal for 2024 to contact literary agents, and I have done that. (By the way, if anyone has contacts or suggestions, feel free to send them my way!) I need to just keep on keeping on.

Though this project weighs on me, it is not the primary source of my sadness. My memoir is something I have control over, at least to some degree. Getting it published may be as much a matter of luck as talent. The things that really make me sad are the things I can’t change: my friend’s serious illness; a relationship that isn’t what I wish it was; the precariousness of our democracy; Supreme Court decisions that defy how I understand our Constitution; and, the rise in antisemitism – to name a few.

I am old enough to have been here in this sadness  before. I will distract myself with a combination of constructive things, like doing something nice for my friend, making a contribution to a candidate I believe in, and other things that are just fun – like getting out in the sunshine, watching something mindless and entertaining, talking to friends. And I will wait for the sadness to pass. Thanks to writing this – and I am sitting in my backyard as I type, listening to the birds, seeing the sun on our daisies – my mood has already begun to lift.

The daisies in our backyard