Water, water, everywhere.
That could be the slogan of the Finger Lakes Region of New York state.
There are eleven lakes that roughly run north to south - five of which resembling the fingers
of an outstretched hand. These lakes are fed by a plethora of
waterfalls. This is gorge country and the tourist office slogan says it
best: Ithaca is Gorges. Though I'd rather have a hat that said
Hello Gorges. Maybe I will still luck out and find one. This is the
Allegheny Plateau, the Gorges ecoregion, the Finger Lake Uplands and the Great
Lake lowlands. That's enough science for today.
I am visiting my childhood
friend, Pamela Barbara. She and her partner live on a blissful ten-acre
tract of forested land a few miles south of Ithaca. Their land is roughly
a five-acre by two-acre trapezoid with well-built trails, bushwhacked by Pamela
and Bob. Bob is an artisan, woodworker, sculptor, painter and all-around
mountain man. Pamela is a depth psychologist who has travelled the world and lived in other countries. One can see their
love of the land in every path and amenity. I have the good fortune to be
staying in the house with a comfy bed, my own bathroom, and a view of the woods from
the bedroom window.
They have a private campsite up
the hill, where folks can stay and enjoy a lean-to, see-saw, swing, fire pit,
tepee and other niceties in natural surroundings. Bob also built a
caravan that one can rent and stay a night or two. There are
campers on the property right now - two families with three kids and one dog. There is also a bear in the vicinity. And in the week I have been here the caravan was also in use a couple of
times. Who even knew that Hipcamp was a thing?
Lower Camp - Sanctuary in the Woods
The three of us ventured to Lucifer Falls in Tremen State Park on a hot, humid Sunday. We parked high and climbed down - which instinctually seems backward to me. The reward of this hike was well worth the effort. On the return trip we ventured up 222 steps built in the days of the Civilian Conservation Corps, commonly known as the CCC*. 222 is usually my lucky number, but I didn't feel lucky lumbering up those stone steps to the Upper Rim Trail. Then the skies opened up (my mother used this expression) and the tepid rain was a welcome relief to the expended effort.
Lucifer Falls - Tremen State Park
Bob took off from work on Wednesday
and we visited what might be called the granddaddy of them all - Watkins Glen
State Park. This was an uphill climb, with many CCC built paths and steps
to gain access to the waterfall at the almost top of the trail. What?
More steps to the upper car park, where the signage promised a shuttle that was not
running on the day of our trek. We rested up while Pam and I debated
about letting Bob descend solo and be our chauffeur for the final leg. But then
we mustered a second wind and headed down. It was pretty cool to see and
hear a train on the trestle at the top of the gorge. We crossed a
beautiful stone bridge to gain access to the Upper Rim Trail.
Accessed by... Steps! I am learning to avoid any paths with
that name. But we did it and the remaining hike, utilizing a shortcut back to the car, was
relatively flat until the final push.
Watkins Glen
Pamela and I also ventured to
Taughannock Falls. These are the highest falls east of the Mississippi.
This was an easy walk on a treed path. But after Watkins Glen, my legs
doth protest! I was happy to be back in the car, and happier still when
we simply went to the warm water therapy pool on Friday.
Taughannock State Park
But let's get back to
water. I have been enjoying this life force in myriad ways on this visit
to my home state. In addition to hiking to magnificent waterfalls and
cascades, there are others spied from the car - every trip into town pulls my
eye to the right where Buttermilk Falls is visible. And the rain!
Last night the thunderous pounding of rain on the roof was music to my arid
ears. I cannot remember when I experienced such a deluge that did not
turn into hail or a mudslide. What? It can rain, just for rains
sake? Pelting, magical music.
After our vigorous hike at
Watkins Glen on Wednesday a hearty lunch was in order. The Finger Lakes
is wine country, and many wineries have restaurants or delis. We
went to Tabora Farm and Winery in the town of Dundee. Upon entering the building,
I was awed by the baked goods. All made in house, and everything looked
amazing. I even saw a Chinese cookie that had swirls of chocolate
pinwheeled throughout instead of the usual dollop of ganache in the middle on top. This was my childhood favorite, and I
had it in my mind to buy myself that treat after lunch. I ordered a grilled
panini sandwich called the Veggie Inquisitor - it was decent. And like so
many places here, one orders at one counter and pays at another. I
grabbed some gluten free parmesan cheese curls to accompany my sandwich and
also to share with Pam and Bob. At the pay station I figured out that they
wanted to upsell a glass of wine to enjoy with the meal. That would be
great if I drank wine, but I don't.
I also eschew beverages sold in
single serve bottles. There are enough plastics in the waste stream,
maybe even clogging the landfills. I often wonder what really happens to
recyclables. A few years back King Soopers was scandalized when it was
discovered all the bottles and cans people brought to the store, thinking they
were being recycled, actually ended up in the landfill. This was in the
eighties, before curbside service made it more convenient to be environmentally
conscience. (You may detect sarcasm here) I live in a state that
has a perpetual water shortage. People carry Nalgenes and Yetis
everywhere. Many of our water fountains in public spaces have those nifty
new contactless water refill stations. Servers in restaurants don't blink
an eye when I carry in my bright orange Sigg bottle and ask for a refill.
I wish I could say it is an anomaly in Colorado to see the uninformed with an Aquafina or a
Nestle water bottle. I chalk it up to greenhorns.
When I asked where I could get
a refill for my trusty water bottle, nestled all day in my fanny pack with a
holder built in just for that purpose. I bought that Zcreation pack 40
years ago in Boulder, so the idea of bringing one's own water bottle is
certainly not a new concept. Three gals huddled around the wine bar, and
each looked at me blankly. Finally one replied that I could use the sink
in the bathroom. What? Don't they know what an unsanitary endeavor that
would be? Spigots are full of feces and other pathogens. Look up
the studies - I promised not to have any more science in this blog! No, I
said, where can I cleanly fill my bottle. You can't was the reply.
In a world of shifting blame, I
was not surprised to hear this was an edict from the owner, and these young
gals were hesitant to shy away from a ridiculous policy. To their credit
no one piped in to suggest I turn around to a reach-in cooler full of single
serve beverages in plastic bottles and pick one - any one - though I can surmise that was the intention of the inhospitable policy. Honestly I was
speechless. But only for a moment. I said things like really?
You have got to be kidding! I might have to write a bad review over
water? The list goes on, but my library voice tirade was pretty
short. And the truth is - I don't write bad reviews, I write blogs and
then email links to the powers that be. In this case the water police of
Tabora Farm and Winery. It is after all their winery, their farm and
their rules. I cannot change the world or even one unenlightened person on the shore
of Seneca Lake. A lake brimming with water - the volume is 1/2 of
all the water in the combined Finger Lakes. I had just witnessed a miracle
of nature - Watkins Glen and rushing water that feeds the lake this winery is stone's
throw from. Literally, water, water everywhere. But apparently not
a drop to share.
Lucky for me I am from Colorado
and never leave home (or my friend's home) without an adequate supply of what
the human body is comprised of. The liquid that makes this part of the
country lush and green. What the east hordes and the west covets. What
Tabora Wine and Farms thinks I can do without. Water. I went to the
car and got my quart sized back up Nalgene in an insulated sleeve. Cool
and ready for me to sip. And even though I wanted that big cookie, I decided not to support them further by buying anything else. I showed them, didn't I?
Tabora Winery and Farms
Time to Write,
Jane
No comments:
Post a Comment