Medieval vibe that is all fun and games.

You do get the medieval vibe at Renaissance Faire, an outdoor theme park in Tuxedo Park, New York that lets you travel back in time when knights and princesses held the public’s awe. That is, if, like me, your one and only point of reference is Hollywood’s “A Knight’s Tale”. As one author puts it (Marc Harzman, “Chasing Ghosts”, 2021), the medieval times was when “for centuries, the Grim Reaper ran rampant across Europe, reveling in plagues that wiped out whole towns, amassing bodies in hundreds of bloody wars, and possibly wincing at disturbingly creative methods of torture that sent victims into his arms.” Death was everywhere and a short lifespan whether by disease or the gallows was in the offing for everyday people like you and me. That is hardly the vibe you’d get at Renaissance Faire.

Then again, maybe the carnival-like atmosphere, whether or not but very surely driven by booze, was the medieval person’s way of rejoicing at just being alive, shelving the dark ages that came before and slowly easing the way for the coming of the Renaissance.

Accurate or not, however, the visitor is more than welcome to forget history and partake in the festivity instead, reveling in the notion that it is and always has been all about now. It’s fun, sport, and games. You just may not find a livelier place to celebrate life just by being alive than at Renaissance Faire.

Nature tour on the wild side.

I guess the only thing going against Ausable Chasm–a rock formation with plenty of adventure opportunities for the thrill-seeker including tubing, rafting, climbing cliffs, and crossing the chasm either on a hanging bridge or a stretch of cable no wider than your index finger above a raging river in what is heralded as the Grand Canyon of the Adirondacks–from becoming a highly popular New York destination is its proximity to a whole other country. Having driven 5 long hours upstate from New York City, the tourist may well drive the extra 30 minutes, exit the country altogether, and venture into Canada leaving Ausable Chasm in a cloud of dust behind.

Indeed, the few times we\’ve been to Montreal we hardly paid Ausable Chasm notice as we passed signs and read brochures for it along the highway.

Which is unfortunate. Because what I initially thought could be a tourist trap–some billionaire snatching land away from the State and turning it into a moneymaking business when Nature, for all I care, should be enjoyed by all for free–Ausable Chasm was reasonably-priced and actually has its merits at being privately-run. Whereas government-run state parks tend to be peaceful and serene, Ausable Chasm is the complete opposite. For the young and old–indeed, the brave couple in front of us on the raft, as you will see in the video, were much older than us, and a young woman possibly in her 20s turned back tugging her boyfriend along not daring to cross the hanging bridge–I guarantee a surge of adrenaline awaits not just once but maybe twice or more on the tour.

So, I say plan for visiting Ausable Chasm at some point in your life. Because when you do, you just might wonder why it never made it into your bucket list and also wonder why you can never stop talking about it. At least we do.

A waterfall forgotten?

There’s hardly any parking at all—I just parked by the side of the narrow road and hoped no truck came by and grazed my car—but judging from the amount of litter, the waterfall on Birchall Road in Ellenville seems to be a favorite hangout.

Yes, sadly, there’s litter everywhere. Plastic bags, soda bottles, graffiti, you-name-it, and there was even a small, inflated beach ball floating on the pool at the foot of the falls when I came. It made the place less idyllic and more like a forgotten part of town.

Indeed, while reviewing my footages on my computer, I noticed a man standing in the bushes watching me while I flew my drone. (You can see it on the video at the start of the second song at 2:30.) But on closer inspection it looked more like plastic bags caught in a tree and shaped like a man wearing a hoodie and jeans.

Then, again, examining the shape even closer, it looked like it has a face. A “creepy monkey” according to my daughter when I showed it to her. A cryptid!

I can only wish. As you never know after spending so much time in the Shawangunks and the nearby Catskills when Bigfoot might show up…

Seriously, I can only wish that visitors remembered to always take with them what they bring in…

Mining tunnel behind a waterfall

I first learned about Horseshoe Mine Falls with a mining tunnel behind it late last year. But also learning that I will have to wade in the pool if I wanted to photograph the waterfall from inside the tunnel, I decided to wait until the following spring when the temperatures warmed up.

So it’s late spring the following year and the waders I ordered finally arrived. I went to visit Horseshoe Mine Falls. I was not disappointed.

When I started hiking the Catskills and surrounding regions to photograph and film waterfalls more than a year ago, I thought of the activity more as “work” than “pleasure”. I got up early before sunrise and drove to a remote location over an hour away sometimes hiking for a mile or two and the night before I ran through a series of checklists making sure my cameras were in working order, the memory cards formatted, the batteries charged, and the drone’s firmware up-to-date, not to mention the research I did to know something of the place that I may say something worthwhile on video for the viewers to hear. I did not at all buy into a favorite quote among outdoor lovers attributed to naturalist John Muir saying, “the mountains are calling and I must go”. I did not consider myself to be among the flock. It was, for me, pure work.

And when I arrived at the waterfall, I had to decide where to position the cameras, where to launch the drone from, what to say about what I was seeing, and ultimately decide whether I have captured enough on video before I left. My mind was constantly on a future outcome instead of the present moment that my nature-tripping became obsessively “work” far removed from the “play” that it should have been.

But recently having found a new job, I became immersed in corporate work encased in steel, glass, and concrete looking after the company’s bottom-line. My mind was constantly dialed to a future outcome. I was left with little time and energy if at all for spontaneous activities like the nature-tripping I used to do.

Yet two months in to my work, I began to feel a longing for the outdoors. I will drive past the woods and see the mountains in the distance and from somewhere within me a pang of desire would surge wanting to be there instead of here on the asphalt road on my way to work. Spring, a waterfall recently made public, a mining tunnel, and the arrival of my waders could not have come at a better time. It’s off to Horseshoe Mine Falls I go.

The trip had a sort of coming-home feel to it when I arrived. Standing at the trailhead for the waterfall I was about to commune with, I could not help but think to myself, spend time in nature long enough in whatever capacity, condition, or demeanor you happen to be in, then stay away from her long enough, and, like a mountain from afar, she will come calling for her flock to shepherd you back.

Waterfall hike in Pennsylvania.

After freezing rain covered my region with snow and ice for weeks, we finally got a thaw so I promptly scheduled a hike, this time just across the state border (I’m coming from Port Jervis, NY) to Pennsylvania. I visited Hackers Falls, one of several waterfalls in the area and one of two big draws in the popular Cliff Loop trail that also features a hike along the top of a cliff (which is probably how the trail got its name) that offers sweeping views of the Delaware River below and northern New Jersey beyond.

Cliff Loop is 3.7 miles long, but I only went as far as Hackers Falls which is 1.6 miles (or 3.2 miles out-and-back). The hike is “easy” and “good for all skill levels” according to alltrails.com and children may be brought along. Some trails are flat and wide enough for vehicles to pass although I did not see any tire tracks. But I don’t think you could push a baby stroller along because the inclines can be steep.

Considering that my out-and-back to Hackers Falls was just 0.5 mile shy of the full loop (3.2 vs 3.7 miles), why, one might ask, did I not just do the full circuit and enjoy the scenic vista from the cliff edge, too? Maybe one day I will. But for now, my mind dictates that when it comes to admiring beauty, I do not necessarily always have to go for the two-for-one.

Waterfall inside … a cemetery?

Just a short, downhill walk to a stream called Beer Kill from Route 52 in Ellenville, NY is a massive waterfall that is practically unheard of, Hanging Rock Falls. Yes, you will find it online—that was how I found it—but what few websites you’d likely find were posted only in recent years some as recent as this year. Indeed, a December 2020 post says they’ve “lived here for almost 8 years now and have never heard of or been to this waterfall”. It’s a powerful waterfall formed by massive rocks tiered in a stair-step cascade approximately 100 feet in height that is not much talked about either through intent—the locals might want to keep such gem to themselves—or scorn after the automobile then the airplane diverted New York City vacationers away from Ellenville to other far-flung destinations thus ending Ellenville’s glory days as a vacation hotspot when rail was the only means of long-distance travel on land.

This region east of the Catskills—the Rondout Valley and the nearby Shawangunk Mountains—is riddled with waterfalls and Hanging Rock Falls just 2.5 miles north of the Ellenville village center on Route 52 is just one. Two miles south also on Route 52 is another waterfall, Nevele Falls, sometimes called Buttermilk Falls by locals. The name “Nevele” came from the name of an inn owned by an early Jewish farmer renting out rooms. In 1903, he named his inn “Nevele” after the number of his children, eleven, spelled backwards.

The name “Ellenville” itself has a storied origin. Local lore has it that in the early 1800s the villagers needed to name their village to apply for their own post office. Coming up blank they settled on the name of one of them, Ellen, so Ellenville it was and Ellenville since.

If you’re ever in the area, I strongly suggest visiting these two waterfalls as they are practically by the roadside with Hanging Rock Falls offering a deeper trek into nature with many possible off-trail—with caution of course as the terrain can be steep—attractions and adventures.

Two roadside waterfalls in Ellenville.

Just a short, downhill walk to a stream called Beer Kill from Route 52 in Ellenville, NY is a massive waterfall that is practically unheard of, Hanging Rock Falls. Yes, you will find it online—that was how I found it—but what few websites you’d likely find were posted only in recent years some as recent as this year. Indeed, a December 2020 post says they’ve “lived here for almost 8 years now and have never heard of or been to this waterfall”. It’s a powerful waterfall formed by massive rocks tiered in a stair-step cascade approximately 100 feet in height that is not much talked about either through intent—the locals might want to keep such gem to themselves—or scorn after the automobile then the airplane diverted New York City vacationers away from Ellenville to other far-flung destinations thus ending Ellenville’s glory days as a vacation hotspot when rail was the only means of long-distance travel on land.

This region east of the Catskills—the Rondout Valley and the nearby Shawangunk Mountains—is riddled with waterfalls and Hanging Rock Falls just 2.5 miles north of the Ellenville village center on Route 52 is just one. Two miles south also on Route 52 is another waterfall, Nevele Falls, sometimes called Buttermilk Falls by locals. The name “Nevele” came from the name of an inn owned by an early Jewish farmer renting out rooms. In 1903, he named his inn “Nevele” after the number of his children, eleven, spelled backwards.

The name “Ellenville” itself has a storied origin. Local lore has it that in the early 1800s the villagers needed to name their village to apply for their own post office. Coming up blank they settled on the name of one of them, Ellen, so Ellenville it was and Ellenville since.

If you’re ever in the area, I strongly suggest visiting these two waterfalls as they are practically by the roadside with Hanging Rock Falls offering a deeper trek into nature with many possible off-trail—with caution of course as the terrain can be steep—attractions and adventures.

‘Catskills’ got a lot closer to New York City

Fitzgerald Falls came as a complete surprise for me. Because most of what I knew about the village of Monroe where Fitzgerald Falls is in was its town center and the park-and-ride facility that is always brimming with cars parked by weekday NYC commuters with many spilling illegally onto the roadsides, I had not bothered to check it out for any nature trails.

That is, until one day I found out that a mini-waterfall I planned to visit in nearby Schunnemunk Mountain had its trail recently closed off because it crossed the supposedly dangerous railroad tracks. Looking online for alternate trails, I stumbled upon Fitzgerald Falls in Monroe.

The reviews I read were not encouraging. Most reported that the waterfall was dry when they visited. It was probably best—no guarantee—to visit in the spring and fall when showers were more frequent. But having nowhere else to go to and the season being early fall, I decided to give it a try.

And I was totally surprised when I did. The trail to the falls was just over a half-mile long (or a short 15-minute walk) but the surrounding forestry with seemingly-socially distanced trees spread out on wide barren earth and rocky soil complete with a wooden footbridge crossing a narrow creek and a stone staircase on one side of the falls compared well with those I hiked in the deeper parts of the Catskill woodlands. It was such a pleasure that I went back a second time with Vi.

I typically head north toward upstate when chasing waterfalls. It just made more sense. The farther away I moved from New York City, I thought, the more pristine and untouched nature would be.

But I know now that I cannot simply brush Monroe or localities south of me aside. The 0.6-mile trek to Fitzgerald Falls may be a minuscule portion of the Appalachian Trail it’s on, but the peace and tranquility I found there under the canopy of tall trees interrupted only by the rush of the waterfall had me believe that I traveled for much, much longer to be rewarded with this simple but alluring escape into one of Nature’s truly hidden gems.

Photographing vacation homes

From out of the blue an Airbnb host contacted me saying he has maybe six homes to photograph in his gated community in Pennsylvania in a popular vacation destination. He found me, he said, after searching all over the Internet when his friend, whose home I photographed a few months ago, recommended me perhaps too highly.

One would think I’d be super-excited to land a jackpot six homes all near one another. They are, after all, an hour’s drive away. But instead, I somewhat warily conceded. In his e-mails he sounded too excited and spoke with a freshness like he already knew me—perhaps his friend described me too well—whereas I was just starting to get to know him, a total stranger whose claim of my being recommended I had yet to verify. Six homes could, for all I know, be just a ploy for a discount (as he did eventually ask) and, even worse, not be that easy to organize what with the weather constantly changing and their rental homes’ vacancies having to coincide so they can be booked for photography in a minimum set of days. The logistics can be a nightmare.

But as the Airbnb host promised, there were eight—not six—homeowners in total participating. (Seven I eventually photographed with one still waiting in the wings for a break in her solid summer bookings under hopefully auspicious weather.) The weather did mess up one group’s shoot and threatened another but in the end all went well.

In thanks I waived my travel fee as a form of “group discount” and was happy to offer the original Airbnb host—who initially declined preferring instead a discount for all but eventually accepted—“finder’s fee”.

And I was happy to have met all the 5-star hosts. Meeting people has always been a thrilling, interesting, and surprising aspect of my mercenary-cum-photographer side-gig. I have a regular desk job but this preoccupation of mine that I so love doing—photography—although beginning to feel more and more like real occupation, will always involve art and appreciation whose price no discount could ever reduce.

Calm from seemingly out of nowhere.

Something about waterfalls always blindsides me.

I plan days in advance and the night before my mind busily runs through a checklist of camera gears and parts while charging batteries, researching and writing a short script and committing it to memory that I may sound coherent in front of the camera the next day, then packing everything in my backpack, all without ever thinking of the reason I’m doing all this—to visit a waterfall.

Then, arriving at the trail the following day lugging all these equipment and multitasking like crazy to capture footages that I\’m hoping will become useful, as I near the waterfall to well within earshot of its roar and without having yet laid eyes on the waterfall itself, a calm from out of nowhere penetrates me and seems to transport me to a whole other place, an opening in the chest if you will that connects me to something great and intimate.

All is well, it seems to say.

Maybe there is no need for the phrase “to stop and smell the flowers”. A visit to a waterfall will always stop the interloper in his or her tracks and feel alive and connected with everything in this world.