The Hudson River

My grandmother took me to New York twice when I was a teenager, but she never took me to see her home town of Ossining. So when we were thinking of places to camp just outside of New York City, and Elijah suggested Croton Point, just north of Ossining, I was intrigued. I could finally see the town where my grandmother grew up. The first night we were supposed to camp a storm was suddenly expected. The weather report said "heavy rain" and there was a thought that the winds would gust up to fifty miles an hour. We decided to stay in the hotel we were in across the river, just inside New York state, for another night. The weather proved to be very intense and we were very glad for the shelter. The next morning the sky had cleared and the weather was beautiful. We drove across the Hudson River and north towards this beautiful camp ground called Croton Point Park. The park is right next to the river on one side and the train station on the other. This was very convenient as we intended to take the train into New York City both days. The camp ground was surprisingly full for the time of year. It seemed to be populated with a bunch of RVs that were there for much longer than a few days, as if people were living there. I don't blame them, it was a beautiful area.

After dropping off our trailer we rushed to the train station and hoped on a train into the city. Our first ride into the city we sat with a woman and her twelve year old son. They were going to the Yankees game. It was a special occasion for the boy who was being allowed to go even though it was a school day. It turned out they were from Ossining. My kids got along really well with the boy and I chatted with the mom the whole way in to the city. But in the process I only saw the river we were riding along side out of the corner of my eye, I didn't really look at it.

After a day of being in New York we rode back in the dark, so it wasn't until the following day's train ride that I really got to look at the river.

I was surprised by how much it looked like the Columbia River, and also excited to realize that the stations we were stopping in, Spuyten Duyvil, Terrytown, Yonkers, were the towns mentioned in the Pete Seeger song "Sam, the Whaler" that I had been listening to since I was a very little girl.

That realization and the amazing old brick buildings along the rivers edge both made clear how much use the Hudson River had been through the industrial revolution, and how strange it was that all these old industrial towns were now sleepy bedroom communities along the commuter train line. It made me excited to drive along the remnants of the Erie Canal later this month and see what has become of the northern part of this old water super highway.

Oh, and Ossining? We went into the town for coffee on the second morning before getting on the train. It's a cute little town. I can't imagine for a minute my grandmother living there. I'm certain that she had no interest in ever remaining there. It seems that she didn't show it to me because it was not really connected to who she was as a person. There were some nice old churches and a row or two of fancy old houses, and a lot of small town charm, with the Hudson River in the background. I don't see how she could have ever fit in there.