Hike #758; Kingston Point to High Falls

Hike #758; Kingston Point to High Falls

3/16/14 Kingston Point to High Falls with Jillane Becker, Brandan Jermyn, Justin Gurbisz, Michael Clark (Lerch), Dan Lurie, Sue Olivar, Ed DiSalvo, Dan Yu, Wei ?, Jim "Mr. Buckett" Mathews, Eric Pace, Tom Vorrius, Giuseppe Di Caro, Susie Duncan, Rob R., Mark ?, and Shelley ?.

The group on the O&W Rail Trail just north of High Falls

Our next hike would be another point to point excursion between Kingston Point and High Falls NY. The winter had been long and hard and I couldn't wait for the snow to be gone, and to cover some new ground.

My obsession with connecting all of the places we'd covered on my hikes will soon subside as I move closer to reaching my goal. In September 2013, Jillane and I had hiked from Sharon Springs in the northern Catskills through Mohawk Valley towns of Canajoharie, Amsterdam, Schenectady, and then down to Albany. At that time, the furthest continuous north I had covered was Minnewaska State Park in the northern Shawangunks. It would be a long way to go in order to connect this trip with everything else I'd done. This bothered me immensely, and I was afraid of losing the memories I've had of the places we visited by not having the connection.

Before going on, I should first elaborate a bit on my past experiences with disconnection and how my memory works. Of course, when I started organizing hikes in 1997, I never thought it would turn into a weekly thing. I had been hiking every weekend since I was three years old with my grandfather, and it was certainly more a way of life than simply a hobby, but even I did not truly realize how engrained it was. The image I had always had of my future was moving to California, pursuing careers in art or Theater. At an even younger age, I envisioned a bright and sunny dream scape, with light colored buildings, green grass, rocks meeting the ocean, and happy people. In 1999, I met Cathy Fisher, a divorced 44 year old woman from California who became floral manager at Shop Rite in Mansfield, where I worked.

Cathy had had bad experiences in NJ, and I was the first person who was nice to her. We became fast friends, spent time together and quickly fell in love. She planned to go back to California after a year, and I wanted to go with her, to fulfill a dream of something I thought I wanted. In 2000, we took a vacation together there, in part to find a place where we would live.

To my surprise, I felt no connection to the place after arriving. I was a bit nervous being so far away from town. We traveled all over Las Angeles area, and then headed north through famous parks like Yosemite, Muir Woods, and Big Sur. We'd hiked to Vernal and Nevada Falls, and I hugged amazing Giant Sequoia Trees which I'd always dreamed of doing. Still, my mind continued to wander back to New Jersey, to the abandoned rail lines and gently rolling hills. California was amazing, and much of it was exactly as I expected, but how I felt about it was not as I thought it would be. Cathy was also disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm. She pointed out that less grandiose locations in NJ provoked more reaction than places in California.

Atop Mt. Tamalpais, California

Cathy and I continued to explore more amazing places, around San Fransisco and Marin. We hiked something called Mt. Tam, and visited a black sands beach called Bonita Cove, among other things. By chance, I even got to carry the Olympic Torch in Golden Gate Park. We then drove down the famous Rt 1 back to LA.

I enjoyed visiting the places, but I had nothing to build off of. I returned home and continued organizing hikes. Cathy was frustrated when we'd reminisce, that I could remember the connective hikes I was doing, but had lost more than 50% of all memories from the California trip in less than a year. In 2005, I traveled back to California and Nevada, and spent an entire month. This time, I actually disliked the trip. I tried to find interest, but it couldn't hold me. I was so miserable I could not bare to stay, and flew home alone. Again in 2006, I flew back out to drive across the country again with Cathy. I prepared a long list of places I wanted to see along the way including the Grand Canyon (I've visited both rims), Arizona Meteor Crater, Painted Desert, Petrified Forest, Valley of Fire, Oak Creek Canyon, Sedona, the Rio Grande, Mal Pais Lava Beds, many natural arches, Memphis and Graceland, Nashville, the Natchez Trace, and countless other places. We visited them all and more.

I enjoyed the trip, and I took hundreds of pictures. Still, I look back at these photos and I know I was there, and wanted to be there, but I can't remember much of it. I feel like I am looking at photos of someone else's life. Cathy was frustrated with how vividly I could remember every detail of the hikes I had done, but lost all of the good times we spent out west. I found it frustrating myself, and could not find a mnemonic device to help me remember better.

I recognize these limitations in my natural cognitive tendencies, and have learned to accept, and even embrace them. In many ways, my ability to retain vast amounts of knowledge regarding the places I visit is a gift. I try not to think of this as a personal limitation, but rather a guide line for maximum learning and fulfillment.

I knew in 2000 that I wanted all of my hikes to connect. This entertained me at first, but it has evolved in the years since to become my life's mission. Why not see how far one man could branch out in a life time? Has such a thing ever been done? Probably not, not on this scale.

After finishing the backpack to Albany, I decided I needed to connect it, and so I decided I wanted to fulfill two dreams at once: cover sixty miles in one day and connect Albany with Kingston. Five of us set out on the hike (for of whom were on this hike); Tom and I covered 63.4 miles in 23.5 hours and the others covered 47 miles. From Kingston, I knew there were enough trails and interesting routes to connect to the south where we'd left out. In January, we hiked from where we left off in Minnewaska to New Paltz NY. With that complete, I scaled off two more hikes that would finally connect Kingston with New Paltz, thereby connecting everything. This hike would be the first of the two.

We met in High Falls, above the large waterfall the town takes it's name from, on the Rondout Creek. I could have actually done the trip in one hike, but with the goal so closely within reach, I instead opted to make two very excellent hikes rather than one straightforward trip.

We shuttled in a few cars north to Kingston Point. Kingston Point was an interesting point to me, which connects in my mind in a different way. Backpacking with Jillane across the Catskills in 2012, we covered a good amount of the old Ulster and Delaware Railroad, and in the town of Stamford we bought a book on the line. I read it cover to cover, and learned of Thomas Cornell steamboat and railroad magnate, and how the Ulster and Delaware came to exist across the Catskills, and how it made connections with the ferries out of Kingston Point. I'd seen historic photos, and I knew I wanted to hike at this historic location.

Historic photo of Kingston Point

Kingston Point Park at first bore little resemblance to it's former glory. There was also a good amount of snow still on the ground, so we couldn't see if there were a lot of ruins. 18 of us, with two newcomers, headed south across ball fields and such to a line of woods, with a pavilion overlooking some of Kingston Point. The Hudson was beautiful with the sun shining over it. We made our way down an icy path toward the waterfront. I was glad Jillane had joined again, after not coming out since the fall. It was cold and she didn't have a good coat, so I lent her my park jacket.

I also gave Dan my weird brown jacket I had worn on the previous hike, because he commented that he had liked it. I thought about it during the week, how it was actually too big on me, and I have so many of them, Dan would put it to better use. I was glad Dan and Sue made it, because I knew it would be a good hike. His immediate response to the posting was "Kingston??? GHAAAAH!", resulting from his sixty mile attempt.

At the waterfront, I could picture what it would have looked like from historic photos. The Ulster and Delaware Railroad had ended here. There were still tracks out onto a causeway, used as a trail here. It was quite a beautiful spot to walk. We headed south along the tracks along the causeway. Justin and Lerch had worn suits on this one, because I initially wanted to do this as a themed hike, but it was just too cold for it. It didn't bother Lerch a whole lot after a while, Justin had another jacket. From the causeway, the two of them headed out on ice to a light house out on the Hudson. I didn't want to take the time to bring the group out, and I actually didn't think they'd make it. Sure enough though, they did. I commented that people were probably thinking Jahova's Witnesses are getting more desperate.

The railroad tracks headed out to Strand Street, and there was a building that still had "Cornell Steamboats" written on it. We kept going on the street until we got to a trolley museum on the right. The tracks were blocked off heading into it. Hasbrouck Park was behind it, which I had wanted to go into, but this time we couldn't take the time to go around. It was fenced in and we'd have to have approached another way. There is an old mine on the east side of it we'd love to visit.

We headed further on out of this part of Kingston, known as Ponck Hockie, then reached an apartment complex just beyond the trolley museum. We tried walking in front of them to cut back over to the tracks, but we couldn't get through the fence. We had to turn back. I made my way around the apartments and found a way up to the tracks, which hugged the side of the outcropping that Hasbrouck Park is situated on. I brought the rest of the group up and we made our way up to the tracks beyond the fence around the trolley museum. This rail line is part of the proposed Kingston Rail Trail, but it's no where near developed yet.

I texted Justin and Lerch on how to catch up with us. Lerch sent me a photo from on the light house. The rail line we were following went over three small bridges, with somewhat rotten ties. Just beyond here, we passed a probable site of a station, and crossed Garraghan Drive, which led to more apartments. The tracks were often covered in snow and not even visible. We paralleled Murray Street, then turned away slightly before crossing Delaware Ave. A guy came up to us and asked what we were doing, and I gave him a Metrotrails card. He seemed interested in one day joining us.

Chris "Cupcake" Kroschinski was trying to meet up with Darlene and Ariel, but unfortunately his car died on the trip. We were already too far along to get back to the cars to help him out, unfortunately, and he had to get it towed.

Justin and Lerch caught up with us at this crossing. We then continued through some weeds across from here, at a church. The tracks crossed 3rd, followed by 2nd and 1st Avenues, then crossed Delaware Avenue once more. There was a partially fenced but open former railroad bridge over Rt 9W here. From the bridge, it looked as though the railroad did not continue on, or that it had been filled in. As we got closer, we could see that it actually made a hard turn to the right, into a deep and narrow cut with masonry lining. It was here that it entered the Hasbrouck Avenue Tunnel. Unlike other tunnels, this one was backfilled rather than bored through, but it's length was much further than I thought it would be, or looked like from a distance. This was noted in my book as the only tunnel on the Ulster and Delaware Railroad. When I saw the book and the picture within, I thought for sure that this tunnel would have been destroyed and filled in. It was amazing to see it looking almost the same as it did a century ago.

Historic photo of Hasbrouck Avenue Tunnel

The top of the bridge looked different, but the rest of it was excellent. It had some trash and such in it of course, and the rails were still in place, though probably not usable any more. The length of it at the approach was very misleading.

Hasbrouck Avenue Tunnel approach

We continued out of the tunnel on the other side, and the railroad remained in a deep stone lined cut for a time.

Inside Hasbrouck Avenue Tunnel

The railroad came out along the edge of a parking lot, with snow piled high along the left so that only one rail was sometimes in view. We then came to Chester Street where all signs of the rail line seemed to disappear. In more recent years, the line made a connection with the currently active main line north/south through town, but the Ulster and Delaware would have at one time crossed over this line directly. We followed a few side streets from here, and visited the brightly colored Sunshine Market where I got a very good local chocolate milk. I also visited another gas station where I got a Joose drink, which I can never find in NJ any more. Everyone had a restroom stop at Burger King before moving on.

I think we crossed the currently active tracks on Smith Street, and we also walked through some sort of municipal road department thing that said "no through traffic". When we got to Cornell Street on the other side, we made it to where the tracks picked back up, in a fenced in area with historic cars and engines in it. Justin and Lerch opted to jump the fence and continue through. Further on, the Ulster and Delaware is active as an excursion line near Phoenicia. Beyond there, it's also used as a landlocked excursion line between Arkville and Roxbury, where Jillane and I had walked in 2012.

I also pointed out to Tom that it was in this vicinity where we had reached our goal, sixty miles. I stopped him and said "we did it, we just hit sixty miles". Amazingly, my scaling was about dead on where I said it was. We continued on around the fenced area to Oneil Street, and found the line fenced in here as well. Justin, Lerch, and Brandan all jumped that fence and continued on. The rest of us headed up to Belvedere Ave, turned left, and left again on Elmendorf Ave. It was here we regained the rail line. Lerch was in the street holding up a giant "no trespassing" sign he'd found.

We all continued on the tracks and passed beneath Rt 32, and I pointed out to Tom that we had walked across that bridge on the 63 miler, and that I commented that I wanted to walk that line, and now we were doing it. We continued on and the tracks passed beneath Rt Rt 587 with some interesting graffiti. The tracks were becoming a bit more secluded as they made their way to the outskirts of Kingston. The old stockade district was just south of us at this point. We skirted the Kingston Plaza, the last bit of developed Kingston before headed away from town next.

This was definitely the right day to do this, because the St. Patrick's Day parade was assembling at Kingston Plaza, and there were tons of bagpipers and floats preparing to move on . We kept to the tracks along the plaza, and stopped for a break when we reached Washington Ave. I asked everyone if they wanted to stop for pizza, but most wanted to just continue on. It was here that we made a left turn off of the old Ulster and Delaware line to the O&W Rail Trail, formerly the New York, Ontario, and Western, which made it's connection with the Ulster and Delaware here. It continued south to Ellenville and beyond. I had walked this line in many locations before to the south, but never connected it yet either. I pointed out to Jillane that it was about a two day walk on the Ulster and Delaware to where we'd left off on the line, in Fox Hollow in the Catskills. Hopefully we'll make this connection some day soon as well.

We passed beneath Rt 87, and we started seeing O&W Trail signs. The rail bed followed a power line right of way from here, and was very icy. I think everyone must have fallen at some time. Brandan kept recording everyone's falls with photos. This section of the rail bed closely paralleled the Esopus Creek. I wondered where exactly the Delaware and Hudson Canal used to exist here, and if there was a towpath worth following. I couldn't see anything. The river turned and passed beneath Rt 209 in view, just as we crossed a very rough dirt road. The road led toward 209 to the right. We continued on the rough rail trail ahead, which eventually skirted a lovely wetland on the left. When there was a culvert under the highway to the right, we headed up  hill to more closely follow Rt 209. This section of the rail trail, known as Hurley Rail Trail, is paved. We turned to follow that. The trail appeared to have been plowed as well, making for a nice easy break compared to what we had been following before.

The O&W Railroad apparently had once had a branch that continued along 209. Not sure. The trail continued along the highway closely into the town of Hurley. My map showed a Stewarts here, and it would be the last chance we'd have to stop for food before the end. Most crossed the highway directly, but I wanted to walk up over the overpass to check out the village with buildings dating back to the early 1700s. The village, originally called Nieu Dorp, was founded in 1662, and then renamed by British when they took over the colony around 1680. The homes were beautiful stone ones. Susie had family who had been married at the church in town, which we walked right by. We headed down to Stewarts, got some snacks, and then Jillane, Tom, and I checked out an interesting little store with great books across the street. Brandan showed up when people were getting antsie about keeping going.

I went back in to Stewarts and got Chicken fingers before moving on, which were quite good. We dashed back over Rt 209 and followed the trail south. The trail soon turned away from the highway and the pavement ended. We continued on, and newcomer Shelley continued ahead to finish earlier.

The trail was really nice, but very snow covered. At least this section was not as slippery as what we had followed before. It was just a very pleasant section through woods. We also skirted some beautiful wetlands to the right, and there were sections with nice dug in grades with some two foot high vertical rocks on the left. This was a very long stretch with no road crossings, until we got to Marcotte Road.

At the road, there was a trail sign which showed that the trail actually goes quite a bit further than I had thought, and there was a very brightly colored house to the right of the trail. We continued through Marbletown Township south from here, and reached Cottekill. Here, there was an historic O&W station that had been converted to a private residence. It was nice to see it preserved in such a way. It still retained it's historic features.

We crossed Cottekill Road, and took a break next to two cement silos. Before Jillane and I even reached there, Justin, Lerch, and Brandan were already inside and climbing around. Lerch was up into an upper level before Justin, but even Justin managed to get up there shortly. The place had a lot of fallen wood, showing us that it at one time had other levels to it. It seemed to be something that would have been a grain silo, but I don't know then why it would have had other upper levels.

We continued on from here along the very pleasant section of trail, and soon reached the site of the Cottekill Trestle. I could see the edge of an abutment, and an arrow sign as we approached it. This was probably a deck style girder bridge, with steel piers, as there were footings for these down below. We carefully walked down the slippery slope with the Cottekill Brook in view weaving through the woods, crossed a newer pedestrian bridge, then made our way up the other side past another abutment. We then continued along an area of high shelf, with the Lucas Turnpike below us to the left. I chatted with Mr. Buckett about leading bike trips. He wanted to run one on this line, and I am hoping he does this but also ones that are very local for him. I think they would be very popular.

We soon entered farm land where wetlands are moving in on the railroad bed, flooding over the top. Fortunately for us, it was frozen at this time, the only time we should have been happy to see so much ice. We'd otherwise have had to walk through the mud. We made our way across Leggett Road, and the right of way turned to the south a bit more. Aerial images show like there might have been a track continuing straight ahead, but I didn't notice while we were out there. It didn't seem to take long before we came out at the old High Falls Station, now also a private residence. It's really a beautiful structure with a long overhang remaining.

The trail went down hill from the station and reached Rt 213. This was great, because I previously had thought the last leg of the hike would have to be a road walk, but the trail had been developed even further south of here. We turned left on 213 and crossed the Rondout Creek on the through truss bridge. Of course. Lerch and Justin had to climb here. Brandan even joined in on this one.

I continued on because I wanted to explore more down by the falls and mill ruins. I headed down from the parking lot where some of the group was waiting, and when I turned back toward the bridge I could see Justin and Lerch both on top of it.

Crazies on the trestle

I continued down to the old mill ruins, standing with only walls remaining, and lots of trees growing from within. I got pretty close to the creek where I could get the best photos of the falls. It was close to sixty degrees the day before, and so there had been a lot of melt off which certainly would have made the falls even more spectacular. I headed back up to the lot, and found the others had left me, and Lerch and Justin were still up on the bridge top. We had enough cars to catch up with everyone.

High Falls

We headed back to retrieve our cars, and then went to Hurley Mountain Inn, a nice looking bar and grill we had passed along the hike. It was the perfect way to end a hike; as we sat, the Grand Marshall of the parade we had passed walk in, followed by a line of marching bag pipers and drummers. We drank green beer, had good food, and laughed with Mr. Buckett as he complained about skunks. It is by far my favorite St. Patricks Day memory to date.