Friday, November 2, 2012

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow - New York


October 31, 2012

In my travel idea book, I keep notes and advertisements about places to consider for day trips. The Hudson River corridor is a prime location for small towns and interesting things to do. We decided to put together a Halloween adventure to Sleepy Hollow and include other items along the Hudson while we were there. To begin, we booked a room in Tarrytown, NY near the Tappan Zee Bridge and purchased a copy of Washington Irving's "Legend of Sleepy Hollow" for our Kindles to read prior to the trip. The aspect that we did not envision was Hurricane Sandy, which did a pretty good impersonation of Sherman's March to the Sea ... only this time it was in the North and ran from NYC/New Jersey westward. We ignored the warnings that saturated the media for several days prior to Halloween and convinced ourselves that it would all be over and done by the time we arrived in Sleepy Hollow. Over and done is pretty much what it was. There was an abundance of trees that were blown  OVER and events like the parade, block party and Halloween Blaze were DONE. We arrived to find dark houses, closed businesses, no power, no street signal lights and most everything cancelled. On the plus side, there was power at our hotel, even though the phones and Internet were out and some of the businesses and restaurants close by did have power and were open.  But, I am getting ahead of myself. We headed for Sleepy Hollow early Halloween morning in a light sprinkle. My inability to find a restaurant open to get a quick breakfast should have been an omen ... but alas I was operating on the half full glass philosophy.


Our first official stop was to be in Newburgh, NY. The new operations for Orange County Choppers is there and I had scheduled some time to stop and check out the facility and the motorcycles. I had watched the OCC reality series on TV for several years and was pleased to see many of the bikes that had been designed on episodes that I had watched. There was not much that we could see going on in the shop itself and naturally no one from the show that I would recognize was in sight. It was definitely overpriced and touristy ... and definitely about retailing merchandise related to the show. There were more than enough bikes there to justify the stop. In fact, the bikes were pretty incredible. I wonder though if it is not a dying market.



If you have read any of my retirement blogs, you already know that every trip is also a quest for the next hot dog joint. This would be no exception. I had read about a local spot called "Pete's Hot Dogs". It is one of those places that people, who have moved away from a town, always seem to head back to whenever they are in town again. They always say that they just have to have one of the hot dogs that they miss and cannot get one like it anywhere else. More often than not, I find the food usually good but not exceptional and suspect the real need is to relive the fond memories of the past. Pete's was no exception. It was in a rougher section of town ... it oozed local color ... it had the local guy ordering at the counter that you could not understand one word he said but the owner could ... it was good ... and they didn't want anybody trying to fancy up their "dogs".  Perfect!

From Newburgh, we headed straight for Sleepy Hollow; only to find the aftermath of the hurricane. I should have had Anne take a picture of me clutching my spreadsheet schedule of activities for the trip, but that would be to admit that I can be somewhat anal about my travels. Nothing is further from the truth ... but my schedule did say 11:00 AM to visit Kykuit, the Rockefeller Mansion, and there were no lights on at the visitors' center! There was nothing to do but make do and we made a beeline for the statue of the Headless Horseman nearby in order to snap a picture as if all was right with the world. We did just that and thoroughly convinced ourselves that nothing was awry.

The untimely fall from the turnip wagon of my youth did not debilitate me to the degree that I do not today recognize that one does not need electricity to see a graveyard.





We had passed the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery entrance on the way into town and given that everything else was closed, we headed there next.  It was a short walk there that took us across the famous Sleepy Hollow Bridge described in such detail by Washington Irving's Headless Horseman tale.  The fact is that that bridge is gone now and a regular bridge stands in its place. There is a plaque, but it is not exactly the same.



Anne and I do enjoy cemeteries. I am a bit uneasy walking around one. Not because of ghosts or anything like that. I am uneasy about open graves. When we happen upon them, Anne gets this look in her eye. I make it a habit not to get between the grave and her. Just a precaution.





The Sleepy Hollow Cemetery is huge and quite a few important people are interred there. Top on our list was to find the grave of Washington Irving. I probably should have read "Rip Van Winkle" before we came, but I didn't.  His grave was very modest.














We strolled around the cemetery for a while, checking out some of the more elaborate monuments. The storm had left numerous trees down in the cemetery and crews were cutting up the fallen debris everywhere. I found it somewhat surprising how many well-known people were buried there. Andrew Carnegie had a huge mausoleum, but his actual headstone was somewhat modest. Others buried there included Walter Chrysler, Samuel Gompers, and William Rockefeller.









By this time, we had pretty much exhausted the Halloween theme. We roamed around near our hotel in Tarrytown checking out the few places that were open and looking for potential restaurants for dinner.  Tarrytown is small, but has lots of interesting businesses and restaurants.  Thinking about dinner made me kinda hungry ... so much so that the sight of another hot dog place left me with no choice other than to have just one to stave off starvation. The place was called "Lubin 'n Links, which made no sense whatsoever to me.  What did make sense was the Barking Dog that I had with chipotle mayo and a delicious relish. I should have had a couple more, but I am an adult and have control. Stopped in a wine bar and had a rousing discussion with the bartender on why Warsaw and Crakow was a better choice of a place to visit than was Bucharest. Back on the street, a few trick-or-treaters, who had missed the announcement about the delay of events, prowled about dejectedly. We checked out a few more places and settled on Sol Mar for dinner. We went a little early (not that we don't do the retiree early bird specials) given that we weren't too sure how long power might last. The restaurant was a Brazilian/Portuguese combination. I think I enjoyed my meal more that Anne did hers, though both were decent. I couldn't resist the lure of Calde Verde (kale and chorizo soup) and fresh grilled sardines like I had had in Lisbon years ago.



After dinner, nothing remained but to head to the hotel. Not being one to be denied, I gave it one last effort to revive the Halloween theme of the trip. I was less than successful. The effort must have drained me more than I realized and I crashed early. Anne, on the other hand, watched a TV program about the pumpkin competition between Keene and some city in the midwest ... dueling pumpkin festivals. That is kinda like Halloween activties. Unfortunately, Anne fell asleep as well a few minutes before they announced who won the competition.

Morning brought a brighter day, even a touch of sunlight, and more electricity. Even though Williams Shatner helped us immensely in our hotel room negotiations, he did not arrange for breakfast with our room.  The prospect of more electricity convinced us that a diner would be readily available. Life is about clues. The long line of people standing in line at the counter  and trying to get on a waiting list to get the next available room should have tipped us off about the power still being off for many businesses ... like diners. The drive to Poughkeepsie provided just enough time and distance to dull the craving and quiet the stomach. Breakfast is not the most important meal of the day. When adventuring it  is just one of many. The trick is to cloud the mind with needs for lunch that fade the needs for breakfast.
Then, a sign that pointed the way to the Hudson River Pedestrian Walkway State Park.



In English that means, the longest pedestrian bridge over a river in the world.














In English that means 1.28 miles long and 215 feet above the Hudson River. Anne and I talked about how cool it would be to have this available for sunset walks every day. Great view!













Thoughts of lunch held at bay for the moment, we jumped back in the car and headed for the SUNY campus at New Paltz. Showing at the Samuel Dorsky Art Museum there was a "Tribute to Mother Nature" with works by 42 artists. We checked out all of the galleries, but the tribute was definitely our favorite. How could you not enjoy a show with logs with zippers?







Finally ... we had managed to have enough fun to merit lunch. All of the suppressed needs resurfaced. No distractions ... no detours. We set the Garmin for Hyde Park ... for The Eveready Diner. I knew immediately when we pulled in the driveway that it was "the" place to be. The fact that the Garvin said the diner was located on the other side of the road convinced me that I was right. We stepped inside and    surveyed the crew sitting at the counter. Local color and butt cracks to boot.



The waitress lead us to our booth. Everywhere I looked were opportunities for stupid photos to embarrass both us and the customers seated nearby. I wasted no time ... and posed Anne. Her expressions betrayed that this was not her cup of tea. Her cooperation waned.











I am a little weak on my tracking skills and reading signs in the wilderness. But when I see a stack of onion rings a foot high and someone licking their chops and still reading the menu, I know somebody is  ordering lunch but thinking dinner. Time to check your wallet for cash.



















Then, when I peruse that same menu down the price column, it is time to release the grip on my wallet and clutch my heart.
















Onion rings ... consumed.  Shepard's Pie ... consumed.  Pastrami sandwich ... consumed.  I close my eyes and see the dollar signs dancing. I plug my ears and hear the cash register ringing.  Severe depression nips at my heels like a chihuahua in a mobile home park. Not even a Black and Brown Cow (root beer float) can snap me out of it.

The last stop ... the Vanderbilt Mansion. It was  Frederick Vanderbilt's mansion, who we learned was probably the most frugal of the sons ... if one can imagine a frugal Vanderbilt. It was an amazing spot with over a mile of riverfront on the Hudson. The mansion was stark on the outside and the grounds somewhat plain. Inside, however, was all about show and money. The tour was both interesting and informative.


 We said goodbye to the Hudson Valley
knowing we would return soon.
































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