Pocono Passage -- Part VI: From Lakeshore to Skytop and Home (by Him

The next morning, January 2, we met my parents in the (much emptier) restaurant for complimentary breakfast of very generous portions.  Then my parents went off to explore Honesdale, while the Admiral and I went for a morning hike along the 2.5-mile loop trail at Shuman Point Park, on the northern shore of Lake Wallenpaupack.

Our original plan for this get-away had been to do some snow-shoeing in the Poconos.  But the inclemently warm temps had melted most of the snow, and we opted to leave at home our snow shoes.  Instead, we settled for a geocaching treasure hunt.  We drove to the trail head, parked the car, put on our hiking boots, grabbed some walking sticks, and headed off down the wooded trail.  There were some great views across the partially-frozen lake.

How fortunate we were to catch a glimpse of the rare and elusive 'Woody Heron'....

At one point, I came across some antlers on the ground.  "What are you going to do with that?" she asked.  "Take them home," I said matter-of-factly.  "No.  No more animal parts," she admonished me.  Last year, during a trip to Nova Scotia, I picked up a very large femur on the shores of the Bay of Fundy.  She was not too happy about that.  "You are not bringing some dead guy's bones back to the house!"  It was probably from a moose, I assured her, and carried it back to the car over her protests.  It has since disappeared, quite mysteriously.

"Look, Honey, antlers!"
"Those aren't antlers.  That's a branch."

We have come to really enjoy geocaching.  Its a great excuse to take a walk in the woods, and the Admiral gets to practice using her compass and honing in on GPS coordinates.  I'd like to say that its all about the journey, not the destination, and that it really doesn't matter to me whether we find the cache(s) or not.  But that is not entirely the truth: it bothers me when I can't find them.

Practicing her compass skills....

Today, we had three separate geocaches to find.  The first one gave us a lot of trouble.  It was described as a small white plastic bottle, hidden inside a fallen tree.  We found the tree without much difficulty, but after searching in vain for about forty minutes, we finally gave up in defeat.  Hard to find a small white container in the snow.  We had to log this one as our first "DNF" -- 'Did Not Find.'

How hard could it be to find a small white container hidden in this fallen tree?

There were a lot of cairns built along the lakeshore, which reminded me of the extraordinary work of my favorite artist, Andy Goldsworthy.  I told the Admiral to be careful: these cairns marked the sites of Native American burials: the large ones for adults, the small ones for children.  She looked at me for a moment, then turned away and walked on.

Rock cairns along the shore of Lake Wallenpaupack

The Admiral led the way to our next target, situated just off the trail on a small hill with a nice vista overlooking the lake.  This was the first geocache that she found entirely on her own.  She was very excited.

The Admiral logs her first find

Our third target was also challenging.  The "Shuman Burrow" cache was described as a small container wrapped in camo tape, hidden in a hole beneath a rock.  Arriving at the coordinates (or what they call "Ground Zero" [GZ] in geocache-speak), we spent about twenty minutes moving every rock we could find.  Part of the problem is that GPS devices are only accurate to within ten to thirty feet.  That may be good enough to find a lost hiker, or a camping site, or a waterfall, but is still less than ideal when searching for a small container buried beneath a rock covered with leaves and snow.  But persistence paid off, and just as we were about to give up I found it!

This geocache was a PVC tube wrapped in camouflage tape, which proved very effective in making this hard to spot

After our hike, we met up with my parents and drove over to Skytop Lodge for some lunch.  This elegant establishment, on 5000-plus acres, bills itself as the premier family luxury resort and conference center in the Poconos.  It was impressive.  I saw my first Tesla there (parked in a No Parking area).

Skytop Lodge

We had hoped to take a ride on the dog sleds, but most of the snow had melted.  Instead we opted to eat at the Tap Room, play some ping-pong, and rummage around in the Gift Shop.  A sign outside the Windsor Dining Room informed guests that hats and cellphones were not permitted.  Making America Great Again, and Trump wasn't even president yet....

Gingerbread House in the lobby

After lunch, we went up to the rooftop Observation Deck.  During WWII, spotters were posted here to keep an eye out for German airplanes.  I don't think they saw too many.  Deutschland is a long way away.  Even if the Germans could have flown their bombers all the way across the Atlantic, I don't quite understand why the rural Poconos would be a target.

View from the Observation Deck

We headed back home the following day.  I wanted to take the Admiral home via Rt. 97, the "Upper Delaware Scenic Byway" which follows the Delaware River down to Port Jervis.  Named after the man who helped engineer the Delaware and Hudson Canal, this town was where the canal left the Delaware River and turned north towards the Hudson.  NY 97 runs between Port Jervis and Hancock; if you ever have a few hours to spare, it is a very interesting drive.  You can even stop and visit the Roebling's Delaware Aqueduct (see previous post).

Delaware River at Hawks Nest.  Washington must have one helluva arm if he threw that silver dollar across the river here....

A few miles outside of Port Jervis, the road winds along picturesque cliffs at a site known as "Hawks Nest."  The view is stunning, and has been featured in several television commercials and YouTube videos.  The name 'Hawks Nest' derives from, well, the hawks that nest in the cliffs around these parts.  A dirt road was put in here back in 1859, and paved in the early 1930s.  Legend has it that the original plan was to build the road down near the river, but the Erie Railroad refused to sell rights to the state, obliging engineers to create the cliffside route that has become so famous.

NY Rt. 97 at Hawks Nest, just west of Port Jervis.  Note the position of the van.

Hawks Nest is a really cool site to visit, although it is now defaced with graffiti.  We need to make America great again (unfortunately, Trump supporters contributed to the graffiti).

Geocaching (By Her)

You will quickly learn that I am not very verbose and posts by (By Her) being me will be much quicker to read and may even be grammatically incorrect but I am OK with that and hope you will be too.  I do not intend to be a frequent blogger but will strive to put meaningful and readable material on here that you may actually enjoy in some sense or the other.  I personally am not much of a blog consumer.  I do have subscribed to several food blogs but have now resorted to following those bloggers on the 'Gram to get a more condensed update on what their slinging across their kitchens. You may now have a sense that I like the Cliff Notes on everything and have been known to glaze over when (By Him) provides the Britannica version to everything.  There may be readers who do not understand that last comment.  If you don't, I actually feel some sorrow for you.  Because, back in the Britannica days, that was the Google of our world and I must say it simplified a lot of things for us. Now we rely on Google, Alexa, Siri, Wikipedia to be our "sources of truth" and I think the information overload can be crippling at times.  But let's get back to the subject of this post - Geocaching (By Her).

(By Him) has spent considerable time researching compasses, GPS accuracy, geocaching practices and has shared our initial forays into this new hobby.  By Him always invests 150% of himself in all things new and of interest to him at the onset (case in point with our tree house that will never be).  By Her, not so much.  I "like" geocaching but will not invest any money nor much time with the preparations.  I will rely on my Android phone compass to steer  "close" to geocaching coordinates and if I find one, great!  If not, I'll just go look for another.  Which was the case recently when we visited Pratt Farm in Middleboro.  For the full topography and detailed history about Pratt Farm, I am certain By Him will include in an upcoming post, and for those who are too curious to wait for that, you may read all about the location here Pratt Farm.

It's a great location for exploring and well traveled but we ended the day with a success rate of 50%. There are in total 20 caches in this location of which we set to find 8 of them for the time we had.  What contributed to our low hit rate?  Who knows?  Possibly because most were micro/nanos and locating them is made all the more difficult when they are hidden under lots of growth and brush and supposedly per GPS reliance from Android, in some swampy areas.  We also did not have the better part of the day so we limited time spent looking for each cache so we could continue to others before the sun set.  It is a challenging spot and am certain that By Him will suggest we return to conquer those that defeated us the first time.  We'll see....

Next up By Her - "These boots were NOT made for walking"....  My transition from Hi-Tec boots (I know, but I was a greenhorn then), to Oboz to Salomon hikers.

Pocono Passage -- Part V: Settling In at the Settlers Inn (by Him)

In Honesdale, we picked up US Rt. 6, the 'Grand Army of the Republic Highway.'  Venerable Rt. 6 had been a main artery in the pre-interstate highway system, and was once the longest highway in America, running from Provincetown, at the tip of Cape Cod, to Long Beach, California (although its western terminus is now in Bishop, CA).  "We could take this road all the way home to Marion," the Admiral observed.  But I had other plans for our return leg (more on that in a subsequent post).  A few miles south of Honesdale, we drove by the Alpine Wurst and Meat House, which features German foods (like pickled herring), but it was closed.  "Awwww, too bad," moaned the Admiral.

Finally we arrived in Hawley (pop. 1200), our destination.  This small town sits at the northern end of Lake Wallenpaupack, the third largest lake in Pennsylvania.  Over a dozen miles long, and with more than fifty miles of shoreline, this reservoir (created in 1926) is a major summer recreational destination in the Poconos.  We were happy we came to visit in January.

Downtown Hawley

The history of Hawley, like that of neighboring Honesdale, was also tied to coal, the canal, and the railroad.  Founded in 1827, it is named after Irad Hawley, first President of the Pennsylvania Coal Company.  In the 1850s, the company built its own gravity railroad from its anthracite mines near Pittson and Scranton to the D&H Canal at the port of Hawley.  In the decades that followed, several manufacturing facilities were also established here, including the Bellemonte Silk Mill (the largest bluestone building in the world) and a cut glassware factory.

The Settlers Inn

Our destination, on the bank of the Lackawaxen River opposite the old gravity railroad train station, was The Settlers Inn at Bingham Park.  This lovingly restored Bed & Breakfast is housed in an old building that dates to the year of the town's establishment.  Styled in the tradition of English Arts and Crafts hospitality, it features an acclaimed full-service farm-to-table restaurant locally sourced in Wayne County, and a small tavern offering complimentary wine tastings each evening beside a large fireplace.

Fireplace Lounge at the Settlers Inn

When my parents checked in a few hours later (having left home later and traveled by a different route), we met in the tavern and sampled three different complimentary wines.  The restaurant was crowded with New Year's Day diners, only a few of whom lodged at the Inn, and we couldn't get a table until after 7:00pm.  But it was well worth the wait, and we later dined in style.  Menu entrees divided into four groups: Earth, Water, Wind, and Fire.

I jumped at the opportunity to have lamb (which the Admiral does not allow me to cook at home): a grilled rack and braised shoulder with red wine paint, sautéed winter greens, and gouda (which the Dutch will tell you is pronounced "How-da," not "Go-da") mashed potatoes.  She opted for the toasted Fregula pasta in spaghetti squash, winter farm greens, cooked in lemon basil oil with a light white wine and garlic sauce.  My dad was happy to have baked onion soup (his favorite), while my mom had a delicious Blooming Grove smoked trout appetizer served with a creamy horseradish sauce, chopped red onions, and capers.  Still reeling from the pickled herring of the previous evening, the Admiral declined to sample the trout (or the lamb, of course).

My parents' room (#102)

After dinner, the Admiral and her mother-in-law found a Scrabble board and set up in the Fireplace Lounge.  They used to play Words-with-Friends a lot, and are both fierce Scrabble competitors.  I stopped playing with either of them a few years ago, after it became apparent they were using bogus words that the Words-with-Friends app would accept but which you would never find in a real English dictionary.

The Senior Rufs pulled off a win, when late in the game my father played "COAX" and grabbed a shitload of points...

Bruised and battered, we retired to our room and had a soak in the large whirlpool tub -- after all, you can't spell Pocono-getaway without J-A-C-U-Z-Z-I.  That's a Triple Word Score in my book, and helped to make this the Best GroupOn deal the Admiral has ever found!

Next time: Lakeshore and Skytop....

Pocono Passage -- Part IV: Over Hill to Honesdale (by Him)

I suggested we linger a bit in Susquehanna to explore more of its hidden history.  This was just a couple dozen miles from my hometown, yet I had never even heard of the place.  But the Admiral was having none of it.  "Let's just go," ordered She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed.  So we headed up the hill and out of town along East Main Street.  Winding our way along a series of country roads through the towns of Thompson and Herrick Center, we found ourselves in the small village of Pleasant Mount (pop. 1357).

Pleasant Mount, PA

This little community in the Lake District of the Poconos also had an oversized history, and featured a surprising number of historical markers.  This was where General Samuel Meredith (1741-1817), appointed by George Washington as first Treasurer of the United States, had lived out the last years of his life.

Monument to Samuel Meredith

Centenarian Sarah Mary Mathews Benjamin, a famed Revolutionary War heroine, had also settled here late in her life.  Born to a family that had moved from northern Pennsylvania during the French and Indian War, her first husband was killed early in the Revolutionary War.  In 1779, she remarried another soldier, whom she accompanied for several years on various deployments, sewing, washing, and baking for the troops and once even standing guard duty in her husband's place.  At the Battle of Yorktown, she famously braved enemy fire to bring food and water to soldiers in frontline positions.

After the war, her second husband deserted her for another woman, and she eventually married a third time, in 1787.  The couple settled in Pleasant Mount in 1822, and she supported them by working as a clothes maker.  She is said to have been extraordinarily talented at spinning wool, and her handmade wool stockings were featured at the World's Fair and even sent to the Queen of England.  In her old age, she regaled people with tales of her adventures during the Revolutionary War (including a story of an intelligence briefing with General Washington).

Aged 115 years.  They just don't make them like that anymore....

A few miles south of Pleasant Mount, we passed a small eatery on the side of the road: The Red Schoolhouse.  We were both surprised by the number of cars in the parking lot on New Year's Day afternoon.  But what caught the Admiral's attention was the lobster on the sign hanging outside.  "Are you kidding me?" she said.  "What kind of lobster can they be serving way out here in West Cuttybumfuck?"  Their online menu features 12-14 ounce (presumably frozen) lobster tails for $33.  I asked the Admiral if she wanted to stop and try some, but she rolled her eyes at me.

The Red Schoolhouse at 1732 Bethany Turnpike: "Fine Dining in a Casual Setting."

Fighting off hunger and fatigue, we pressed south along remarkably straight roads and made our way to Honesdale (pop. 4480), roughly thirty miles east of Scranton.  I'm embarrassed to confess that I had never heard of Honesdale before, either.  Yet it is said to be the birthplace of American railroading.  It was here that the nation's first commercial operation of a steam locomotive, the 'Stourbridge Lion,' took place in 1829 -- a year before the debut of the better-known 'Tom Thumb,' invented by Peter Cooper (whom also created Jello and founded Cooper Union).

Replica of the 'Stourbridge Lion' at the 1939 NYC World's Fair

The seat of Wayne County, Honesdale seemed at first blush rather nondescript.  Median household income here is less than $33,000, and about one-fifth of the population lives below the poverty line.  It only took a minute or two to drive through the small downtown area, but when we reached the end of the main street I told the Admiral that I was going to circle around for a second look.  

Main Street, Honesdale

The town's many Victorian-style old buildings seemed to bespeak a prominent past.  Indeed, as I would later learn, it has a celebrated place in Americana pop culture.  Local notables included Richard Smith, who co-wrote the song, "Winter Wonderland," Morris Wilkins, inventor of the heart-shaped bathtub, and Dwight Schrute of the NBC sitcom, The Office, whose bed-and-breakfast beet farm was supposedly located in Honesdale (you can even check out its reviews on TripAdvisor).

Schrute Farms Bed & Breakfast & Self-Defense

Honesdale has a place on the silver screen, as well.  David Wain's comedy, Wet Hot American Summer (2001) was filmed at Camp Towanda, about six miles north of Honesdale, and the action-thriller, Long Kiss Goodnight (1996), starring Geena Davis and Samuel L. Jackson, was set in (but not filmed in) Honesdale.  It was also here that the magazine Highlights for Children began publication in 1946, and where its editorial offices still remain.

Required reading in my childhood.....

But it had been coal mining that quite literally put Honesdale on the map.  The community lies in the heart of the North Anthracite Field of northeast Pennsylvania's "Coal Region."  The town was created in 1826 as the starting point of the Delaware & Hudson (D&H) Canal, which transported coal to New York City, and was named after Philip Hone, mayor of NYC and President of the D&H Canal Company.

D&H Canal Boat Basin & Gravity Railway Yard in Honesdale

The D&H Canal was a very big deal in its day: the largest private commercial enterprise in the United States.  Laid out by Benjamin Wright (who had engineered the Erie Canal) and his assistant John Jervis, the canal carried coal from the Wurts family mines near (the aptly named) Carbondale, PA, to Kingston, NY, from whence it was ferried down the Hudson River to New York City.  An ingenious narrow gauge gravity railroad hauled coal from the mines over the Moosic Mountains to the head of the canal at Honesdale.

Delaware & Hudson Canal and its Gravity Railroad Extensions

The canal crossed the Delaware River at the confluence of the Lackawaxen, across from Minisink, NY.  Originally, coal barges were pulled across the Delaware via a rope ferry.  But after numerous collisions with timber barges coming down the Delaware, a raised aqueduct was designed by John Roebling (who would later engineer the Brooklyn Bridge). 

Roebling Aqueduct

After the canal was closed in 1898, Roebling Aqueduct was converted to a bridge, and eventually acquired by the National Park Service in 1980.  While the bridge, the oldest existing wire suspension bridge in the country, was restored and reopened in 2011, many locals harbor considerable hostility to the federal government.  Large hand-painted signs line many local roads, calling in bold letters for "NPS GET OUT OF TOWN!"  Folks in these parts are really hoping to make America great again, but I'm not sure how they intend to do that.

Roebling Aqueduct, Restored 2011

The D&H Canal was a marvel of engineering.  But the expansion of railways proved a much faster, safer, and more cost effective means for transporting large bulk commodities such as coal.  By the mid-nineteenth century, the Erie Railroad (remember Susquehanna?) had completed a line through the Delaware Valley, including an 1863 branch to Hawley (our destination).  Today, most of these old canals are all but forgotten, having been abandoned, drained, filled, and paved over.  Although a few sections of some are preserved as parks and historic sites, little remains to explain why so many inland communities bear names such as Port Jervis, Port Crane, or Port Dickenson.

Next Time: Settling In at the Settlers Inn....

Pocono Passage -- Part III: Southbound to Susquehanna (by Him)

This year, we surprised my parents with a prepaid two-night stay for the four of us at a charming Bed & Breakfast in the small town of Hawley, PA, at the northern end of Lake Wallenpaupack, about about 45 miles ENE of Scranton.  From Binghamton, this would be a easy drive south on Interstate 81.  "Can we take the back roads?" the Admiral asked.  I much prefer to avoid highways whenever possible; the 'scenic routes' are much more appealing to me.  I planned a route that promised to take us along small roads passed posted woods, derelict barns, Trump signs, confederate flags, and the occasional meth lab.

Our route to Hawley, PA

One of the things I like about traveling back roads is the opportunity to learn about local history.  We crossed the mighty Susquehanna River at Oakland, PA, about twenty miles SE of Binghamton.  Back in the 1820s, Joseph Smith had lived here for a short time, dictating parts of what would become the Book of Mormon.  Across the river, on the southern bank, lay the small town of Susquehanna, dominated by the towering spire of a large church atop a tall hill.

Although the 2010 census put its population at only 1643 (with a median household income of $35,197), the dates and names on the facades of some of the large old buildings along Main Street suggested it once had been a place of some importance.  "This must have been someplace special once," I said to the Admiral.  "Why don't you look it up?"  What she discovered astonished me.  This was the birthplace of famed behavioral psychologist, BF Skinner.

Main Street, Susquehanna, PA

The area was first settled in the 1790s.  Half a century later, the farms of the area were purchased by the NY & Lake Erie Railroad Company, and a town and tracks were laid out in the late 1840s.  By 1853, the settlement had been incorporated as the borough of "Harmony" (renamed 'Susquehanna' in 1869).  Tax records from the time of incorporation list some 270 residences, as well as six taverns, two saloons (one with bowling alley), eleven shops, thirteen storerooms, two barns, and a slaughter house.  Many of the settlers who came here were employed by the railroad, or in service industries that catered to the railroad.

Vintage Postcard of Main Street, Susquehanna, PA

During its heyday of the latter nineteenth century, Susquehanna (Depot) was the mechanical headquarters of the Erie Railroad.  Its rail yard, which included a 33-stall roundhouse, was large enough to accommodate 200 locomotives.  The town was a manufacturing and service center for locomotives and railway cars.  By 1887, five locomotives were being produced here each month.  

Vintage Post Card of the Locomotive Manufacturing Shop

Several thousand workers were employed in the numerous workshops, foundry, gas works, oil works, ice house, and huge freight house, while an enormous passenger station, the Starucca House, now listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

The old Starucca House, once with hotel and restaurant.

By the early 1870s, the local economy was booming, and the town sported five hotels, two banks, three newspapers, a library, lecture hall, and opera house.  Agricultural products from the surrounding county were shipped to New York City via the railway, and Susquehanna became a leading producer of eggs and milk in Pennsylvania.  The town and depot began to decline in the mid-twentieth century, as the railroad transitioned from steam locomotives to heavier diesels, for which the facilities were ill-equipped to handle.

The railyard at Susquehanna Depot.  Most of these buildings were demolished in the early 1980s

By 1960, the workforce at Susquehanna Depot had shrunk to only ten electricians.  Businesses closed, buildings became vacant and fell into disrepair, folks moved away, and the once proud community became a shadow of its former self.  I still recall traveling, as a young child, with my family by train from Binghamton to visit grandparents in New York City in the 1960s.  Although I had no clue at the time, the train must have come through Susquehanna.  Trains still run through here, but they no longer stop.

Next Time: Over Hill to Honesdale....

Pocono Passage -- Part II: "Ringing in the New Year" (by Him)

After having dinner with my parents, the Admiral and I got a ride over to the home of a friend for some celebratory libations.  Tim lives in the nearby town of Port Dickenson, a suburb north of Binghamton along the now-defunct Chenango Canal.  He comes from a small Irish family of only seven siblings.  His father had been in the Navy, and after World War II had spent some time in the Chinese port cities of Tianjin and Dalian (Port Arthur).  I did my junior year of college in China, and whenever I would return to Binghamton I would go over to Tim's house, sneak in their backdoor (always unlocked), and leave messages in Chinese on their dry erase board.  His father got the biggest kick out of that.  "Who the hell keeps doing that?" he would roar with laughter.

打倒美国帝国主义！

Nowadays, whenever I come back to Binghamton, I make sure to put in a courtesy call at Tim's house.  His wife, Tracey, (whom he refers to as "Mrs. Difficult") is warm and friendly, and Mr. Jameson is always sitting around looking for some attention.  Last year, my 20-something daughter introduced us all to the phenomenon known as "Pickle-backs:" a shot of whiskey, followed by a chaser shot of dill pickle brine.  It is rumored to be a sure-fire prophylactic against hangovers.

Amazing what an NYU education can teach your kid....

After imbibing liberally at Tim's annual New Year's Eve party, we made ready to return to my parent's home.  "I'll call for an Uber," I announced.  That elicited a chorus of raucous laughter from local party goers.  "We don't have Uber in Binghamton," he explained.  "That's what we have kids for."


We made it home in plenty of time to catch the Dick Clark New Year's Eve countdown.  I must have had a bit too much to drink, because I really thought that Dick Clark was looking a lot like Ryan Seacrest.  This year, my parents introduced the Admiral to the venerable German tradition of eating pickled herring at midnight, which is supposed to bring you good luck throughout the coming year.  That didn't go over very well.  "People shouldn't eat fish out of a jar," she complained.

Hey, its a lot tastier than some of the things I have eaten in China....

As the daughter of a retired New Bedford fisherman, the Admiral is more accustomed to fresh seafood.  She didn't believe me when I told her that when you live hundreds of miles from the sea you buy scallops in a can at the supermarket.  "Scallops don't come in cans," she said dismissively.  Guess what she got for Christmas....

Wishing you a very merry Christmas....

Next Time: Southbound to Susquehanna

Pocono Passage -- Part I: "Binghamton Bound" (by Him)

After seeing a draft I have been working on about our recent trip to the Poconos, the Admiral has admonished me once again for excessively long (and uninteresting) posts.  I think her exact words were, "Oh my god, Honey, no one is going to read all that shit!"

At her suggestion, I am going to try a new approach: shorter, more palatable, bite-sized chunks posted in a series.  This is the first in the 'Pocono Passage' series.....

========================================================================

Binghamton Bound

We left home on New Year's Eve morning and drove out to my hometown, Binghamton, NY, to celebrate with my parents.  This trip of 350 miles usually takes me about 5-6 hours, but much less if Admiral Leadfoot does some of the driving.  The first time I took her with me, she was amazed that 'Binghamton' actually appeared on mileage signs.

"You have your own 'green sign?' No way!"

The trip takes us across the Hudson River, which I like to cross via the Castletown-Upon-Hudson Bridge.  This cantilever truss bridge, with a clearance of 135-feet, offers a breathtaking vista on the river and its surrounding landscape.  I look down at the water and imagine Henry Hudson and his crew of the Half Moon sailing here in search of the fabled Northwest Passage in 1609.

The Castleton-Upon-Hudson Bridge
(and the Alfred H. Smith Memorial railroad bridge)

At Albany, we pick up I-88 for Binghamton.  This intrastate interstate highway is also known as the 'Warren M. Anderson Driveway,' since it connects the hometown of the longtime NY State Republican leader (who happened to be the father of my high school French teacher) with the state capital.  Its construction in the 1970s dramatically reduced travel time between Binghamton and Albany.

Binghamton

Situated on the state's Southern Tier near the Pennsylvania border, Binghamton sits in a valley at the confluence of the Susquehanna and Chenango Rivers.  Before you book your hotel reservations, you should know that it ranks as the 10th rainiest city in the United States and the 6th cloudiest city (cloudiest east of the Rockies), with an average of only 52 'sunny days' a year.  So be sure to bring Vitamin D supplements when you visit.

Emergency Services are sometimes flooded with calls reporting a strange light in the sky....

Until the eighteenth century, the area had been home to the Onondaga and Oneida, two nations of the Iroquois Federation.  But most were driven away during the infamous "scorched-earth" campaign of the 1779 Sullivan-Clinton Expedition of the Revolutionary War.  The present-day city is named after William Bingham, who bought a 10,000-acre land patent in 1786.

Look, Honey, we even have our own 'blue' sign....

By the mid-1800s, the construction of canals and railroads had made Binghamton an important regional transportation hub, spurring a boom in commercial and industrial development.  The numerous stately homes and mansions built here earned Binghamton the moniker of the "Parlor City."  Lumber, furniture, and carriage manufacture were big here, as were leather and shoes.  At the turn of the twentieth century, over 100 million cigars were produced here annually (second in the country only to NYC).  In the 1920s, the Endicott-Johnson Company established its shoe-manufacturing here, employing tens of thousands of workers attracted to George F. Johnson's "Square Deal" welfare capitalism (in fact, the greater Binghamton area is referred to as the "Triple Cities" for Binghamton, Endicott, and Johnson City).

Square Deal Arch, on the border of Binghamton & Johnson City
"Our Motto: 'How much can we make OF our business, rather than OUT of it'"

Now the fourth largest city in New York State, Binghamton is the most famous place of which you have never heard.  How many cities can boast of no fewer than seven "sides?" There is Downtown, Northside, Eastside, Westside, First Ward, Southside, and Ely Park.  On beautiful Clinton Street you can find RobotCity, which claims to be the largest video game arcade in the state, and is one of the few places in the world where you can still play 'Space Invaders' (1978).

I was REALLY good at this game, back in the day....

The city also styles itself as the "carousel capital of the world" (it has six).  There are countless bars, some offering the best spicy Buffalo Wings outside of Buffalo (one of my favorites used to sell a dozen hot wings for $1, but charged $10 for a pitcher of water).  Even the Hell's Angels have a chapter here, because they know how to have a good time.  SUNY Binghamton (or what locals like to call "BU"), is one of the four research centers in the state university system, and the alma mater of singer/songwriter Ingrid Michaelson.  Rod Serling, creator of the 'Twilight Zone,' grew up here.

Binghamton High School, Class of '43

This was where IBM was founded, where Dick's Sporting Goods had its start, where Edwin Link (for whom my father worked) invented the flight simulator, where Valvoline motor oil was created, and where Dr. Kilmer's Swamp Root (a famous patent medicine) was concocted.  And, of course, Binghamton is the birthplace of the world-famous "spiedies:" cubes of meat marinaded in a special sauce and cooked on a skewer (to order, click here)..

If you know what's good for you, never make the mistake of referring to Spiedies as "kabob"

In Binghamton, you can see tigers, snow leopards, red pandas, and lemurs at the Ross Park Zoo, the fifth oldest zoo in the United States, and watch apples pressed at the Cider Mill (est. 1926).  Afterwards, you can catch a show at the Roberson Museum's planetarium, and then view the heavens at the Kopernik Observatory, one of the best public observatories in the Northeast.  The country's last remaining original Marconi Tower still stands in the downtown area near the old train station.  Nearby is the stadium for the city's minor league (AA) baseball team: formerly the 'Binghamton Mets,' but now renamed the 'Rumble Ponies' -- which edged out other contenders, such as the 'Gobblers' and the 'Stud Muffins,' in an online Name-the-Team poll.

Next time: "Ringing in the New Year....."