The Headless Horseman Strikes Again

What a Great morning. When we woke on Tuesday morning the entire marina seemed to be covered in a mystical fog. As the sun rose over the hills of Tarrytown it was clear that the sun was going to be strong today and the fog would be short lived. As the fog burnt off, we watched the Tapanzee Bridge slowly appear as it crossed the river. At one point we could clearly see half the bridge as the cars drove in and out of this thick fog bank. The fog is not a stranger to Anna and I. Many a day on Nantucket starts and ends this way. It was a comfort to have something that reminded us of home. After a quick breakfast Anna and I got the bikes off the top of the boat and made our way to the dock master to ask for directions to Sunnyside, the home of Washington Irving. As soon as we told him where we where going, he said "Listen guys you have to climb a big hill to get there, might I suggest a cab?" Did he say Cab? Do I look out of shape? We don't need no stinkin cab, we are young, strong and adventuresome. Hell no we said, we want the exercise. So off we went on our Three mile ride. As we reached the beginning of town we encountered the hill. I said to myself, "OK just take it slow it's not like we are in the Tour De France." Soon my heart felt like it was going to explode. To call this a hill was more like calling Everest a small hike. This thing seemed to ascend to the heavens. Anna and I felt like Greek warriors trying to make it to the top of Mount Olympus. As we crested the top, we gave ourselves high fives and mocked those that thought we couldn't do it. OK only 2.9 miles to go. So off we went. At this point the fog was completely gone leaving in its place a heavy wall of humidity. As we peddled, sweat was pouring off our faces, all we could think was how great it will be to sit in the gardens of Sunnyside and revel in our accomplishment. As we approached the turn for the Museum we saw that the estate was down at the bottom of a similar hill. Oh well, we did it once, we can do it again. I would have run into a burning inferno at this point if it meant taking a break from the bike. For lack of a better word, my ass was killing me. "There it is", Anna yelled, we made it. What the *^%*. CLOSED TUESDAYS! WHY? WHY? Suddenly the voice of my least favorite childhood teacher filled my head. "Failure to plan is planing to fail!" Anna and I spent a few moments laughing like Tom Hanks in the movie the "Money Pit". What will you remember on the Great Loop? Well I will never forget Sunnyside that I know for sure. Back on the boat, we pushed off for Newburgh. The sights we saw where once again breathtaking. The Hudson seems to take on a whole new look as you go north. The trees where as green as they could be, and they seemed to hug the walls of the river till their branches arched over into the water. Trains ran along the banks, and one could be seen exiting a tunnel which looked like it was right out of Anna's Grandfathers Train set in his basement. Our approach through Bear Mountain and West Point was truly something. Having spent our lives boating on the ocean, it was such a sight to see this kind of landscape. Our arrival in Newburgh went without a hitch and surprisingly we opted to walk through town rather than ride our bikes.