In our hour of darkness, in our time of need, oh Lord grant us vision, oh Lord grant us speed*

Wooo!  We’re not going to grow old and die in Croton-on-Hudson after all!  We may not survive the impending Atlantic Ocean run, but at least we moved.

A bit rougher on the Hudson than expected on Thursday, but certainly doable.  Past the urban Tarrytown Light and under the Tappan Zee Bridge.

We generally find ruins of all types interesting, and what’s left of the Glenwood Power Plant in Yonkers is no exception.  Supposedly there’s a project—“The Plant”—with an absurdly ambiguous goal of “restoring and converting [the] former coal-burning power plant … into a home … where the world’s most innovative people will convene to imagine the impossible and invent the future.”  Riiiight.  That’s some impressive mumbo-jumbo right there.

Then past the Hudson Palisades and down to Liberty Landing.

The view from dinner was about as cool as it gets.

Although the moonlight view from our back porch was every bit as awesome.

We decided to check out the Liberty Science Center—finally—because it was close and because it’s home to the Jennifer Chalsty Planetarium.  Largest one in the western hemisphere for anyone keeping track.

Sadly, it turns out we’re not science museum people any more.  It’s not the science—we love science.  It’s not the exhibits—we found some interesting ones.

The problem with science museums is that they allow in thousands of parents who seem completely unconcerned that their hopped-up-on-Dippin’-Dots offspring are running amok, wiping grimy fingers on every reachable surface and banging into those of us who don’t think it cute.  We aren’t complete curmudgeons, mind you.  We don’t blame the urchins and a few of them here or there would be perfectly acceptable.  But once they reach unsupervised critical mass, it’s a different story.

That said, the show about the Webb Space Telescope and the Artemis Program was awesome, so we discretely took some photos of the dome interior to sooth our senses, and then went to lunch.

Although we thoroughly enjoy the Manhattan skyline from the relative safety of Liberty Landing, we generally don’t cross the river.  New York City is crowded and dirty and intimidating to simple country folk like us.  Plus, we did all the touristy stuff in our pre-boating life.  We contemplated going over to a Broadway show this time but concluded that the crowds and the dirtiness and the hassles were too much for us.  But then we started craving cheesecake and someone said the best place is in Little Italy so we took a train and a ferry and a taxi and walked about four miles and ended up back at the boat with cheesecakes from Eileen’s.  Although all of that travel was pricey, we shrewdly spread the cost across a large number of them.

Today we headed down to Atlantic Highlands, because the next twenty-four hours look okay—not great, but okay—on the ocean.  Out of Liberty Landing we took the obligatory Statue of Liberty photo, although this isn’t it.  This is a photo of the rude rubberneckers in our way.  And no, we don’t find it at all hypocritical to complain about people getting in front of things we want to get in front of.  We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again.

Back through the Verrazano Narrows, which means we’re done with New York.  Mostly we enjoy New York but we’ve gone from Clayton to The City and are glad to be south of her.  We have places to be.  Plus we do like Atlantic Highlands, although we barely had time for a delicious meal at the Thai place and ice cream and a drone flight and a sweaty 87° walk.

So that’s that.

If there’s a cranky tone to this post, it’s likely because we’re setting alarms for 1:30.  That’s A.M., not P.M.   Assuming we successfully get around Sandy Hook in the dead of night, hopefully we’ll reach Cape May some sixteen hours later.  That’s just gross, is what it is.

*RIP Gram Parsons.  And RIP Jimmy Buffett.

4 thoughts on “In our hour of darkness, in our time of need, oh Lord grant us vision, oh Lord grant us speed*”

  1. Hey Dana and Doug,
    It’s Mark Winkleman and I am in Sun Valley at a concert. Our friends next to us are loopers from up here. The Salty Dogs say hello! Apparently you crossed paths on the loop

    1. Thanks Mark! What a fun message. And we need fun, because right this moment we’re bouncing around three miles off the New Jersey coast at 3:25 a.m.

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