Bear Mountain

Before I left for Bear Mountain on Saturday morning, Penny played this Bob Dylan song for me. Here are a few verses that will give you the jist of the song.

I saw it advertised one day,Bear mountain picnic was comin' my way."come along 'n' take a trip,We'll bring you up there on a ship.Bring the wife and kidsBring the whole family."Yippee!
Well, I run right down 'n' bought a ticketTo this bear mountain picnic.But little did I realizeI was in for a picnic surprise.Had nothin' to do with mountains.I didn't even come close to a bear......

Well, I soon lost track of m' kids 'n' wife,So many people there I never saw in m' lifeThat old ship sinkin' down in the water,Six thousand people tryin' t' kill each other, Dogs a-barkin', cats a-meowin',Women screamin', fists a-flyin', babies cryin',Cops a-comin', me a-runnin'.Maybe we just better call off the picnic....
Now, I don't care just what you do,If you wanta have a picnic, that's up t' you.But don't tell me about it, I don't wanta hear it,'cause, see, I just lost all m' picnic spirit.Stay in m' kitchen, have m' own picnic...In the bathroom.
Now, it don't seem to me quite so funnyWhat some people are gonna do f'r money.There's a bran' new gimmick every dayJust t' take somebody's money away.I think we oughta take some o' these peopleAnd put 'em on a boat, send 'em up to bear mountain...For a picnic.

Love it. Anyway, I packed up the gear (including my never-been-used CamelBak) and headed to Port Authority. Paul was sitting at the station already with our tickets, and we soon boarded our bus along with other hikers, campers, and Oktoberfest goers. Every October for a few weeks, Bear Mountain Inn hosts an Oktoberfest that mimics Trout Fry in the quantity of beer, people, and shenanigans.

The Oktoberfest was marked by an accordion band, huge steins of beer, and women with tall flat brown boots and leggings. We met some hikers who had just gotten off the Appalachian Trail (the AT, they called it), and gave us some tips about how to get on the trail and where to stay. After we explored a little bit, we hiked up to the crest of Bear Mountain for the lookout. We could see the Manhattan skyline far off in the clear-day sky. Our big hiking pack made us an authority of the trail; we got lots of comments and questions from other hikers.

There's the white blaze of the Appalachian Trail behind me! 

We walked back down, Paul bought a stein, and we waited in line for 30 minutes to get a yummy Belgian ale. We sat on a picnic bench by the lake and ate our peanut sauce stir-fry that we brought from home. It was getting chilly and late, so we started across the Bear Mountain bridge. 

The path was all uphill or down, and was constructed with rock steps like the limestone ones in Decorah. We hiked quickly as the sun set, and as the trail descended the other side of this mini-mountain (above), we reached a campsite with several pads and fire grates. Not long after camp was set up, it was DARK (and only about 6:00pm). A through-camper (another learned term) came in to camp right after us and went down to the stream with his head-lamp. He had started in Maine, and was already at the base of New York. I don't think he even had a tent. Paul and I retreated to the tent for Nuts by the light of my meek headlamp hung by the ceiling and chilled red wine from the air. I think we were in bed by 7:45pm. You've gotta follow the sun!

In the morning we were up and out by 6:45am, came back to the Bear Mountain Inn, and caught the bus back to the city at 8:30. It was a completely wonderful 24-hour vacation.