September 4, 2021
The river is glassy calm, the sun high in the sky, but the island looks very small and very far away. We are loaded down with tents, sleeping bags, food, water, and firewood. We paddle this time, singing tunes about not “needing any motors or any sails.” Today we travel the Hudson with the power of our own arms. It takes a little longer than the kids would like. They watch as the current pushes the canoe north even as we paddle due west. But eventually, we are gently running the bow of the green boat between the jutting angled stone that tells of a geologic event long past, and up onto the forgiving sandy beach.
We made it! Our home away from home. Our escape from the start of the masked classroom, new remote job expectations, rising infection rates, and never ending ping of emails and texts. We made it out. We made it here, to this quiet little island tucked along the eastern banks of the beautiful Hudson River. No one else for miles around.
Nick and I bustle like birds to build our new nesting site. A tent to zip ourselves into, a log to rest on, a ring of large stones to patiently encourage flames to rise inside. We watch as other boats pass far away on the water, out near the navigational buoys. They don’t even know we are here.
Cheryl arrived hours before us and has already tied her hammock up between two trees. She’s got hotdogs on sticks over embers and invites us to share dinner on towels in the sand. The sun sets as we sit together marveling at the clouds changing from yellows and oranges, to pink and purples. It’s hard to believe this paradise is right here in New York. With the breathtaking mountains, vast expanse of waters, and rocky cliffs at the north end of the island, we could be in the Galapagos.
And soon, it’s totally dark. We almost missed the change from day to night. Time is different here. The kids stopped complaining about being bored. They just sit with us talking together. A booming echoing sound drifts up from the south. A crowd of happy dancers enjoying the river their own way. A party boat comes into view, momentarily jolting our quiet beach into a satellite dance party. Then as the echoing disco music fades into the darkness again, we feel the wake of the passing boat splash up on shore near our boats.
It’s time to turn in. We pull the canoes far above the high tide line and lash them to trees. As we climb into our tents, I feel a deep inner peace ferrying me into slumber. I wonder what tomorrow will bring, what adventure on the Hudson awaits me in the morning?
