As part of our Welcome Issue, The Miscellany News’ Features section published an article about summer students’ Hudson Valley outings, concluding with the sentiment that, although the academic year has begun, off-campus adventures need not cease. In this spirit of exploration, I joined my friends Eliza Gilbert ’25 and Madi Sandy ’25 on the Awosting Falls hiking trail in Minnewaska State Park.
At 8:00 a.m. on Saturday, Sept. 14, the three of us departed from the THs in Sandy’s Mazda, proud of our joint commitment to convene so early in the morning. Sandy—the only one of us with a driver’s license—drove down Route 44 across the mid-Hudson bridge, adhering to the Englishman’s lilting voice of her GPS. We arrived at New Paltz in under half an hour. Munching on breakfast sandwiches, we admired the many colors of Main Street: the pink door of Vision of Tibet, a Himalayan-inspired craft and clothing store; the purple brick of Likwid, a skateboard shop; the teal awning of Gourmet Pizza, self-explanatory.
After paying a $10 fee, we parked across from a strip of gender-neutral outhouses. Around us, outdoorsy families fastened their hydration packs and smeared sunscreen on their noses. The gorgeous mid-70s weather made for perfect hiking conditions, and we set off, following a path of red diamonds.
For amateur hikers such as Gilbert and myself, the trail was very manageable, spanning just over a mile with an elevation gain of 118 feet. The path is paved with gravel and bends easily along a shallow, pebbly stream. The hike’s crown jewel, a tall waterfall splashing past uncannily geometric stones into a delicious, sparkling pool, is the perfect place to stop and recuperate. Sitting by the edge of the pool, we met an eight-year-old boy with the weary posture of an 80-year-old man. He was clutching the leash of a dog with startling blue eyes. “His name is Sky.”
On the hike, we spoke of many things: our parents’ professions, our siblings; theoretical trips to Bali, New Orleans, Vermont and Peru; where we want to live after graduation; whether or not Gilbert and Sandy will be roommates for the fifth consecutive year after graduation; the weather; my fear of camping; bears; plastic water bottles; “The Road Not Taken”; “Fantastic Mr. Fox” and especially, our gratitude that this semester, Sandy has a car. “It’s just a complete game-changer for getting out of the Vassar bubble,” Sandy explained.
On the ground, leaves halfway to senescence stared up at us. Their green and red hues bled into one another like watercolor. I chose my footsteps with caution.
I picked a purple flower from the edge of the path, which I later learned from a Google Image search was wild chicory. Sometimes I feel that my caveperson ancestors would be ashamed by my abysmal nature knowledge. We walked by a rusting, centuries-old water pump. I silently thanked evolution for giving me indoor plumbing.
The trail was not particularly crowded, but there were a handful of people, mostly families and bikers in super-tight shorts, milling about. Each and every one of them flashed a warm smile when our paths overlapped, and some even exclaimed, “Good morning!” The casual cheer was touching.
Towards the end of our hike, we passed a sign informing us of the Timber Rattlesnake habitat ahead. “Though rattlesnakes are venomous, they pose no serious threat if left alone,” it read.
“I knew a guy who shot a bullet through the eye of a rattlesnake,” said Gilbert. “I didn’t think rattlesnakes existed in New York,” said Sandy.
After returning to the parking lot, we drove uphill to the Lake Minnewaska Visitor Center, a modern, angular lodge overlooking the water. First opened in 2020, the Visitor Center chronicles Minnewaska State Park’s history, boasting artifacts such as hammers, plugs and feathers from the late 19th century and taxidermied bears, foxes and platypuses encased in display boxes.
The highlight of the Visitors Center is its tree-identification scavenger hunt. At the front desk, Gilbert, Sandy and I each took a paper pamphlet that listed the various trees found around Minnewaska State Park—chestnut oak, pitch pine, sassafras, et cetera. Scattered throughout the Visitor Center were various stamps of each tree’s unique leaves. Our goal was to correctly find and mark our pamphlets. The game is probably meant for junior rangers and girl scouts, of which there were several roaming around the park. We loved it.
I slept deeply on the drive back and dreamt of leaves.