Have you ever been to Inwood Hill Park? It’s beautiful. And damned interesting. It’s as close to what Manhattan was like for millennia. Glacial scarred rocks, caves, the last salt marsh of the island, and, arguably, virgin forest. Can’t remember the last time I ever heard anything claiming to be a virgin.
I had recently tossed one from the developed nose of the island, so it seemed a good time to pitch one from the (relatively) untouched tail of the island. Apparently this is also where the infamous sale of Manhattan took place. Used to be a big tulip tree marking the spot. Now there’s just a big rock with a plaque. The history of this city is amazing – natural and manmade. Here’s another book to consider – http://www.amazon.com/Field-Guide-Natural-World-York/dp/0801886821
A nice book as an overview and introduction to the plants, animals, ecosystems, and parks of the city. I did a map for them and although they spelled my name wrong, they thanked me before Michael Bloomberg in the acknowledgements. So we’ll call it even.
It was a brilliant day and I wrangled my friends Eddie and Allison to make the trek with me. Allison had lived in Inwood years back, so she was an excellent guide. We wound our way through the hills of the park and looked for a suitable launching point. I had wanted to do it around Spuyten Duyvil. I know the currents there are screwy and I was curious as to what the bottle would do. Get caught in a whirlpool or something? We thought about crossing the railroad tracks to a good spot, but then didn’t feel up to scaling the fence. Or getting run over by the train. Probably the only thing Amtrak is able to accomplish with efficiency.
It was feeling very “Stand By Me” with the three of us. We didn’t see a dead body, but I did see something scarier on the way up – a shirtless white guy with dreadlocks. Is it too much to ask that white people stop having dreadlocks? He was of that “active hippie” variety which I thought had died out. He was quite concerned with showing off his abdomen and I thought he was going to capoeira his way right onto the train. Thankfully, we were spared.
We wandered south and found a very nice spot under a tree by the river with the New Jersey (pride swelling) Palisades as a backdrop.
The tide was heading out and when I tossed the bottle I wasn’t sure where it was going to go. The surface of the water looked very current-confused, and to my surprise it started drifting upstream steadily.
Allison has an African Grey Parrot named Fidel. I’ve always been creeped out by the idea of a pet that can outlive you with one wing tied behind its back, but she gets a kick out of him. I’ll admit he’s got a nice tail and is pretty funny when he regurgitates sounds from The Real Housewives and moving trucks at the same time.
The parakeet would let us touch him, but would skirt away as soon as we’d try to pick him up. We debated if it was better for him to have a brief free life, but when he started eating gum from the sidewalk it was a bit depressing. I tossed my t-shirt over him and picked him up. He seemed pretty subdued. Either that or the French level BO from my t-shirt knocked him out. While showing him to some friendly people he flew out, and one of the women picked him up with such a deft and gentle hand. She said she had two already, and we convinced her to make it three. She seemed very sweet and I’m sure he’s gone to a good home.
Ted’s Corner™: I chucked a bottle from Inwood. I don’t like when white people have dreds.