Now that it’s warm out, I’ve been biking along the Hudson River.
It’s easy to get to the Hudson from my apartment in downtown Albany.
I pick up the bike trail near the Dunn Memorial Bridge and follow it through the Corning Preserve to a riverfront parking lot in Watervliet. Then I turn around, and head back to Albany. The entire trip takes about an hour, but I’m getting faster.
As bike rides go, it’s far from perfect. One of my friends described it as boring, and I wouldn’t necessarily argue with him — the trail is pretty flat, and the scenery, at first blush, isn’t all that interesting. Trees, water, fields — yawn.
But I’m beginning to love the bike trail. Every time I bike there, it’s a little bit different. Sometimes I go in the morning, when the water is calm and the wind is light. Sometimes I go in the evening, when the sun is setting and day is sliding into night. Last week, the dandelions were blooming; this week, they had turned to seed. At dusk, I often see deer, grazing in the preserve’s shaded glades. On the banks of the pond, several sets of Canada geese tend to newly hatched, fuzzy-yellow goslings. And there are rabbits, and ducks.
None of this is particularly exciting, but I continue to provide my friends with regular updates on my trips to the Corning Preserve. “I saw my friends the deer the other night,” I report, because that’s how I’ve come to think of these deer, as my friends. “And the goslings — they get bigger every day.”
But the key to the whole experience is the Hudson River. The bridges that span the river fascinate me; with their crisp lines and imposing architecture, I’ve come to regard them as large pieces of public art. The decaying, industrial buildings that line the water’s edge are eyesores, but I’ve grown fond of them, too, because of the window they provide into the river’s past, its history. And it’s quite a history — this year marks the 400th anniversary of Henry Hudson’s first voyage on the river that bears his name.
When I learned that an acquaintance of mine was hosting a commuting cruise from Albany to Troy on the Dutch Apple, I jumped at the chance to go, even though I work in Schenectady. I suddenly realized that although I’d been spending a lot of time thinking about the Hudson, and looking at it, and riding my bike along it, I’d never actually been on it, on a boat. And this seemed like an experience I should have.
On Wednesday, I picked up the Dutch Apple in the evening, and took it from Albany to Troy and back again. It was a lot of fun — there was a cash bar, free food and live jazz provided by the Clarinet Marmalade Trio. Naturally, I was impressed. But the experience would have been magical even if none of these things had been provided, because there’s just something magical about water.
In my opinion, one of the great tragedies of being a working adult is that I can’t spend time on the water every day during the summer. When I was growing up, we often went to the beach twice a day — to a sandy beach called Manahan Park in the mornings, and then, after my father got home from work, to the swimming hole at Beard Brook. Our vacations always brought us to watery places — the ocean, when we stayed at my grandfather’s house in Maine, and the lake, when we stayed at a friend’s cabin in the woods. I spent my summers after college working at a camp on a lake, and I’ve been swimming regularly at the YMCA for years.
In recent years, I’ve come to recognize that love of water is a family trait. I realized this when my family traveled to the White Mountains in New Hampshire for my cousin’s wedding. We’d been bickering nonstop, but decided to head down to the pool for an evening swim. In the water, everything changed. Within moments, we were splashing each other and swimming laps, laughing our heads off and actually enjoying each other’s company.
“Fosses love water,” observed my sister Rebecca, who, like my father, once worked as a lifeguard.
This was something I’d always known, and yet it seemed insightful. I suddenly understood that I should spend as much time on the water as possible, that I’m happier near the water. Maybe that’s why the Dutch Apple cruise was such a delight. It was basically a glorified happy hour . . . but on the water, which made it infinitely more enjoyable than happy hour in a bar.
As we cruised toward the dock, my friend Philip proposed booking the Dutch Apple and inviting everyone we know to a summer boat party. This seemed like a splendid idea, and I can’t wait to organize it.
Because I enjoy a good party, and a party on water will be better than a party on land.
Foss Forward makes a weekly appearance in print, in The Gazette’s Saturday Lifestyles section.
