Autumn 2018 Trip Postcards: Rondout Valley Campground

Back in the early 1970s, when I was about 12, my family owned a 22 foot Prowler pull trailer. For two summers in a row, my dad pulled it up to a Catskills campground in Accord, NY and parked it there. My mother, sister, brother, and I would spend the summer there and my dad would join us on his days off.

They were great childhood days. We made friends with a family from Brooklyn (the Murrays) and another family (the Smalls — where are you Albie?) who were doing pretty much the same thing. Every day was spent doing stuff outdoors: fishing, swimming, splashing around in the creek, exploring the woods. There was an abandoned blueberry farm not far away and in season we’d all go pick blueberries. There was a rec hall with pool tables and pinball machines and a jukebox. I can’t tell you how many times we played “Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress” on that thing.

They say you can’t ever go back, but that’s only partially true. I went back today. 40+ years later, the place is bigger than it was, with lots more campsites. The trees have grown and there’s lots of shade. I walked around with Penny for a while and reminisced about the old days.

Campground bridge.

This one lane bridge is the only way in or out for the campground.

The pavilion.

This building, which we called the Pavilion, was open sided in the early 1970s. They showed movies in there on Saturday nights; it’s where I saw The Graduate at the tender age of 12 or 13. Our friends’ parents pulled them out after the tasseled pasties scene. Oops.

Family campsite.

This fifth wheel is parked in the campsite my family occupied our first season at Rondout Valley. The trees weren’t there and behind our site was an undeveloped pasture.

Family campsite.

The second season, we camped near here, with the creek behind us.

Waterfall.

The rec hall is gone without a trace, but the waterfall just outside the campground remains.

Autumn 2018 Trip Postcards: High Point Monument

On my long, circuitous route from Clark, NJ to East Wallingford Vermont, I stopped at High Point State Park in North Western New Jersey. It was another one of the places I’d been a few times in the past. That area of New Jersey was a very popular destination for the motorcycle club my wasband and I belonged to in the 1990s, mostly because of the many twisting mountain roads that made for great riding.

High Point is the highest point in New Jersey at 1803 feet. The monument, a 220 foot obelisk, was built in 1928-1930 to honor war veterans. The obelisk is open to the public; there’s a small fee to climb to the top.

High Point Monument and Lake Marcia

The High Point Monument reflecting in the water of Lake Marcia within the park.

High Point Monument panorama.

I used the panoramic capture feature on my phone to fit the whole tower in for a shot from its base.

Night Point Monument silhouetted against the sky.

The High Point Monument silhouetted against the late afternoon sky.

I should mention here an obelisk is not a rare form for monuments in New Jersey. I grew up near the Camp Merritt Memorial Monument in Dumont, NJ, a 65 foot obelisk.

Autumn 2018 Trip Postcards: The Deserted Village of Feltville

On our way to Vermont on Sunday morning, Penny and I stopped at the Watchung Reservation, a Union County park. Among the dozens of miles of hiking trails in the relatively small but heavily wooded park is the deserted village of Feltsville. It seemed like a good place for Penny to burn off energy before our long drive and I really do love a nice walk in the woods.

We avoided the townsite for a while by following a random series of paths that eventually looped back to a cemetery that predated the town. Then we hiked up to the town, back to the damsite along the creek, and through the woods a little more. I figure we walked about two miles on that gorgeous morning.

The only original headstone in the old cemetery.

This 242 year old headstone is the only original stone in the small cemetery near the townsite.

Townsite building.

One of the few surviving buildings from Feltville, an 1800s mill town. (Side note: this is a great example of the perspective distortion I’ve noticed with the iPhone Xs’s wide angle view.)

Stone wall.

This stone wall and some of the foundation is all that remains of the three story mill building.

Creek in the woods.

This creek, dammed upstream in two places, provided power and water for the mill and town.

Mushrooms growing in a tree stump.

The obligatory mushroom photo.