The International Writers Magazine:US Travel
Escape New York City and head west
on Interstate 80 and within 20 miles or so, you would hardly
recognize the terrain. Behind you are the skyscrapers and industrial
wastelands of the Bronx and Essex County New Jersey,
and, at least in the fall, you are surrounded by incandescent colors
and stupefying scenery, even alongside a national interstate.
On a brisk, late October day, my buddy Ryan and I did just this.
An hour and a half
later (after emerging from the massive tolls and traffic of the Cross
Bronx Expressway and the George Washington Bridge), we found our way
along to US highway 46 all the way to the Delaware Water Gap. The
"gap" is not named for the river emanating from our first
state, and this pertinent portion actually separates two other
states: Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
few short hikes up diminutive hills and alongside the roaring river
in extreme Western New Jersey, with the Independence State only
a Tiger Woods sand wedge away, Ryan and I determined we had
engulfed a good deal of the foliage and splendor of this hidden
region just south of the Poconos. So, being a consistent visitor
to this region - that inspired "Dirty Dancing" - when
he was a youth, Ryan suggested an extra 25-mile journey north into
the Poconos, to a place named Bushkill Falls. The weather was still
holding up at about 52 degrees and cloudy, thus we pushed on.
Bushkill Falls is
on Broad Street (PA route 611), the same road that 100 miles to the
south deposits drivers in the in the city center of Philadelphia and
eventually at the sports complex just south of the city. It has a $9
admission fee, and on a damp mid 50s windy late afternoon, Ryan and
I mused about not partaking. However, with the advice of his dad who
had been, we decided to eschew our hesitation and entered.
We were not disappointed. Bushkill falls was majestic. My most recent
traipse thru a "falls" area was at High Gorge Falls near Lake
Placid, New York back in July. That was pretty impressive, but Bushkill
is more than just falls.
were four trails, and although we never quite made heads nor tails
of the route of any, we traversed bridges, rocks, woods and eventually
forded fjords deep into the woods away from the water.
After getting completely lost (one of the many perks of being off
the beaten path) we hiked up desolate trails, found random steps,
discussed college basketball alongside babbling brooks, and
I drank fresh water from the docile streams.
Being from Southern
California, this type of georgrpahy is still somewhat foreign to
my viewing pleasure, at least on a consistent basis. I have taken day
or extended sojourns to many similar areas, but having now lived through
the fall of foliage in New York, DC and beyond, I am more awe-inspired
every day. Doubtlessly, you can't compare the great canyons, mountains
and deserts of Eastern Cailfornia, Arizona, New Mexico and Utah, to
the tranquil, melancholy, old-fashioned appeal of the northeast, but
who says I can't have my cake and eat it too?
© Ari J. Kaufman November 2005
http://calea.blog-city.com (Sports, Travel)
by Ari Kaufman
America to find the 'Field of Dreams'
Ari Kaufman in Pittsburgh
Ari J Kaufman
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