Wee Winter Wanders and a New Perspective

icy stalagmites/Hershey's Kisses sculptures

One of my favorite things in the world is to try and see familiar things from a new perspective. It's right up there with seeing new things! My home town, Ithaca, NY, is arguably one of the most beautiful places in the state. Though, I admit I might be a bit biased... Living here, I definitely took the beauty for granted, or rather, didn't spend as much time appreciating it as I do now.

Dan and I went out for a wee winter wander to get some fresh air on Christmas Eve in the Six Mile Creek area of town. It's a place I've been to many times in the warmer months, particularly when I was younger, for Ithaca's version of cliff jumping. (Of course, the smallest cliff was the highest I could handle.) But I don't remember ever really taking the time to look around there in the winter. We discovered Mother Nature's got a way of quietly making her presence known in some extraordinary ways. I live to be in awe of and inspired by how beautiful the world is.

All the photos to follow and more are up on http://adventure-inspired.smugmug.com

stalagmite ice and...my left leg. (Dan Herscovitch)

suspended, frozen.

 

a little bit of rime ice and a lot of waterfall.



I'd just love to see a time elapse video of how this was created...



drops trying to reach the creek that didn't quite make it.



Another Beautiful Ithaca Holiday Weekend

I spent the first little bit of today looking through photos and videos from the Red Rocks Tweetup. It's bittersweet - I'm so enjoying seeing friends' smiling faces and beautiful rock, but it's a little sad knowing I missed seeing them in person. I missed the tweetup for the best reason I can think of - spending time with my family in Ithaca. Anyone who knows me at all knows how much I love my hometown, and the reverence I have for the beauty that surrounds it. It's such an incredible little paradise of a town. That being said, I doubt I could live there again, and I think that makes me appreciate it even more.

Saturday was a day full of family and friends, and I went to bed feeling so incredibly lucky. The weather was beautiful all weekend. The midday Easter festivities included packing eleven of us into my Grandmother's little apartment for lunch. Despite approaching 89 years of age, Bugga (the nickname chosen by my brother when he was very, very little) can still regale us with tales of family history and names of distant relatives I didn't know existed. It always amazes me what she can remember; I have such unconditional admiration and love for her.

Saturday night was a chance to catch up with a friend from high school swimming. Whenever I go home, she's the first one I make plans with! I love knowing we can see each other and do anything and it'll be fun. Friends like that are so important. I just have a feeling she's going to change the world someday, and I can't wait to see it!

Dan and I spent Sunday morning out on the trails in one of my favorite places in the world - Taughannock Falls State Park. A deep gorge cuts through crumbling rock with falls as high as 215 feet, and leads directly to beautiful Cayuga Lake. I've been hiking and goofing around in this park since I was much younger, and remember gently forcing some of my Cornell friends to visit it with me on occasion!

The trail system allows you the chance to hike from the base of the gorge to the top of the falls and back down the opposite side, and to the base of the highest waterfall itself. What makes the park so special isn't just the scenery, but the fact that the trails allow you to see it from so many different angles. Not to mention its proximity to Ithaca. The incredibly steep walls of the gorge caused "I want to climb that!" thoughts and feelings, particularly in Dan. I'm sure thinking about our friends in Red Rocks climbing away didn't help! But due to the fact that most of the rock in the area is sedimentary, it's unfortunately not an option. Of course, we did find a way to get a little bit of "climbing" in.

We opted to hike from the base of the gorge to the top of the falls, which involves a short 600-700' elevation gain, then cross the falls and head back down to the lake. Every time I go on a hike, all I can think about is using it to train for Rainier, and the date of the climb is getting close enough that I'm going to have to start hiking more. As a show of support, Dan generously offered to put rocks in my backpack. 

We covered just under four miles in two hours with plenty of photo stops and a little bridge bouldering. Lesson of the day: Merrel hiking shoes and boots are awesome, but aren't the best choice for bouldering, but we did what we could with what we had.

We had a great time, and it was a perfect way to close out the weekend in Ithaca.

The Meaning of Home

Beautiful Taughannock Falls.

I always have, and always will love my hometown. Nestled around Cayuga Lake in Central NY, Ithaca comes complete with some of the best food, best scenery, and most wonderful experiences I’ve ever had. I always look forward to trips home, no matter the reason, because depending on the season, I might get to go to the Farmer’s Market, or for a hike through Buttermilk Falls. I'm always overcome with an insatiable desire to go everywhere and do everything I miss about living there when I visit.

The drive to Ithaca takes four hours from Philadelphia, depending on traffic, weather, and how far over the speed limit I think I can go. I meander along the winding highways and within an hour of arrival in my hometown, a wave of melancholy sweeps over me. I’ve become so accustomed to this, and I can anticipate exactly when it will hit me. I spent 22 years of my life in Ithaca, and every time I go back, it makes me a little bit sad. Sad because I’ve moved on, lived elsewhere, said goodbye to my college friends, and the town itself has changed. I realize the way I see Ithaca will never be the same.
 
Moving on, growing up, evolving, experiencing new things, none of these are bad. Change is not bad. But I always believed I’d feel completely at ease in my hometown. I expected to pass within Ithaca’s boundaries, through its imaginary protective bubble, and all my troubles would remain on the outside.

The truth, of course, is that this is impossible. This truth was forever etched in my mind the day my mother called me to tell me the house I’d grown up in caught fire and burned. I came as close to having a spiritual experience I’ve ever come the night before – tossing and turning, unable to sleep, my blood felt full of little bubbles, my skin prickled, and I sat in the middle of my floor sobbing at 3am, unable to figure out what was happening. Something felt unbelievably wrong.

The next morning, my mother called to tell me the news. I’d just started yet another shift at my restaurant in Denali National Park and was beside myself with grief, thinking about all of the memories we’d made in that house. And I was so far away. Thankfully, my box of old journals and our family photo albums, among other things, survived.

And a house, really, is just a house. I will always have the memories, and the love for the family and friends I grew with there. The destruction of the house taught me a number of important lessons, including the fact that although I sorely missed the possessions I lost, I didn’t really need them. The bottom line – a house, and what’s in it, does not make a home. Memories, love, and family – those things make a home.

Most of my favorite restaurants still exist, Cornell is still there, the Commons is still home to the same group of odd ducks it’s always been, and my mother’s wonderful obsession with creating the cleanest, sweetest-smelling household is still obvious. But my better half, my cats, my job, and my life are in Philadelphia. At the moment, Philadelphia is home.

My definition of “home,” in the deepest sense, will always be Ithaca. When I visit, I do feel refreshed, renewed, and happier than I was when I arrived. But the places I’ve lived, grown, and come to know are also home, including the 1,000 Islands, Denali, Anchorage, and Philadelphia. What does home mean to you?