In a city where skyscrapers dominate shrubbery, it’s hard to imagine that an hour ride can get you into the heart of wilderness. Well not anymore, as I’ve made back-to-back missions from Manhattan to the mountains. From Cold Spring to Bear Mountain, Bull Hill to Doodletown, and Lauren to Dean, it’s an adventure anyway you look at it.
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Four dudes, Paul Simon, and a Fiat 500. That winning combination came together for a day trip to the Rockaways, a spur of the moment expedition in search of sun and swell. Once there, our group discovered a cohort of wetsuit wrapped soul surfers, devoted individuals willing to brave freezing temperatures and a bitch of a current. Fighting the urge to join them (a task made harder with Dean’s optimism and a $25 all-in rental offer), our crew sought shelter on the boardwalk and settled in to watch the waves churn.
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I’ve been called “The most domesticated 23 year old on the planet,” and I’m convinced that a recent berry picking outing contributed heavily to that notion. Nonetheless, it was a good excuse to jet out of the city for a day, and I knew a few baked goods would be in it for me if I tagged along.
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After much Graham-goading, Lauren finally helped me understand what a good idea it would be to get out of the city for a day. A quick call to Hertz and 2.5 of driving landed at the edge of New York State, finding a climate cooler than we had hoped, but beautiful nonetheless. Starting with our usual touring the Hamptons finest, oohing and ahhing at the once-described “f**koff houses,” we called an audible and decided to continue our journey on to Montauk.
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[gwu] Graham Whitaker Unterberger 