Hyde and Go Seek

Day 56

Sleeping in the tent by “Lake Almosta” was heaven. Tucked under the big conifers, we were shaded from the early sun. We were awakened by little red squirrels squeaking and chattering above us. We watched the two Green Herons glide back and forth over the lake. A falcon flew through the tree branches just overhead. With a setting like this, we end up having our coffee out here too. Elizabeth and Douglas join us. They have a busy day ahead, so this is all we will see of them today. They have suggested a myriad of adventures that we might like, and given us pages and pages of written directions.

We decide to first check out Rhinebeck, a hip little town just to the north. Apparently, it is home to the oldest inn in the country, the very place that Bill and Hillary stayed for Chelsea's wedding. Unfortunately, we are starved blind by the time we get there, so the visit became mostly about balancing blood sugar.

No better or healthier way to do this than pop in to Pete's Famous Restaurant and eat syrupy waffles and a tuna melt. These are the unfortunate food combinations you get when you wait too long to eat after having a tad too much coffee. Though we would recommend Pete's for both the service and the food, don't go in too hungry. The counters are full of muffins and doughnuts, there is a fridge full of cakes and pies within view, and plates of onion rings come out of the kitchen at lightning speed. It's too tempting. Before you know it you have a tuna melt with chips and coleslaw, and a waffle, and two eggs, and three kinds of breakfast meats. Don't worry, we learned our lesson.

Full and lethargic, we decide we need to go somewhere a little less crowded and relax a while. We have directions to Mills State Park, which will allow us to finally see the mighty Hudson River. The park turns out the be Staatsburg, the former residence of Ogden and Ruth Livingston Mills, a family who got to live it up on these shores during the legendary “Gilded Age” (1885-1917), a period marking the growth of the United States as a “world power” and the unprecedented wealth within. This “autumn residence” is an ostentatious Gothic looking thing that looks as though it could have been a courthouse, or a library. The mansion is perched on a rolling lawn, several hundred yards uphill from the shores of the river. On the other side of the mansion, about the same distance away, are the railroad tracks.

We bask on the shore of the Hudson, watching barges plow upstream, silent kayakers, and a couple in a steamy make-out session just up the hill. It was so very peaceful, I can just imagine how lovely it must have been to have this as my yard, once upon a time.

Inspired, we decide to ride down river to Hyde Park and see some of the other famous Hudson Valley homes. We see only the grounds of two more: the Vanderbilt place (autumn residence of Frederick, our local boy George's big brother) and also Springwood, home of FDR and the first Presidential Library. With it's lack of Grecian pillars and cheerful green shutters, Springwood is downright homey compared to the Vanderbilt and Mills places.

Since we're in the neighborhood, we head over to the CIA, the Culinary Institute of America. It is a sprawling campus with impressive, castle like buildings visible from the road. We enter the campus via it's roads named for herbs, and find the Craig Claiborne bookstore. I love Craig Claiborne. First, I use the recipe for bourbon balls every Christmas from his book, Southern Cooking. Second, he is famous for winning a no-price meal sponsored by American Express in an auction, and racking up a $4,000 dinner for two in Paris in 1975. Apparently, Craig Claiborne left his entire estate to the CIA, so the least they could do was name the bookstore after him.

Because we were there around 5 pm, we were treated to the chaotic hour in which all of the white jacketed students must eat before they are expected in all of their various roles within the CIA's five or six restaurants. Standing outside of their no doubt fabulous cafeteria and watching big white plates mounded with food, we decide that we should eat, too.

Even though we are on campus so early, we have no luck getting a reservation. We end up at Al Forno (I think that's the name), the little pizza place on campus within the gorgeous Italian restaurant, and enjoyed some nice prosciutto, a flat bread pizza and a dish of sorbet. The service was horrible, mostly because the servers are students, not professional servers. Fortunately, tipping is not allowed.

By now, we are worn out from our day in the valley. We ride back to High Valley with full bellies and heavy eyelids. Once home, I write a little, and then crawl in to the tent beside the lake and listen to owls sing to each other, thinking about how cool it is that I get to write just a few yards away from where Elizabeth writes. It's quite an honor, truly.