New Heights

Last weekend I had the luxury of hiking Breakneck Ridge, a ridge at the edge of the Appalachian trail about a two-hour car drive north of New York City into upstate New York. I first heard of the ridge from my first creative writing teacher who kept inviting me to climb it with him. I never got the chance as I was far too busy at the time but promised myself I would see it in the future. The professor has since retired and moved away so I went with my friend, Peter, who is a fellow travel and nature buff. The ridge is apparently a popular destination as many cars were see lining the base. Despite the not-so-auspicious name, there were people of all ages climbing it, from grandparents to children as young as 10. The climb was indeed arduous, even for an active person like myself.

The ridge is hugged by the Hudson's steady flow which added the most pleasant sound track throughout the hike.  We were also blessed with the air, newly crisped with the incipient fall season. There is just something about fall that invigorates me both physically and spiritually. I tend to do most of my writing during this season and the pilgrimage to the ridge was perfectly conducive to reflection. Although there were many people on the trail, we found ourselves isolated for most of the hike since the trail is over 10 miles long and takes an average of 3-5 hours to complete. Save for the lone train humming and hooting in the near distance, the trail was thick with an incredible quiet. The air and trees so still at times, I had the urge to sing to break it. But after a while, I found the silence very inviting for deep meditation and thought. But being me, I could not help but sing anyway, and so we sung our favorite songs with brief periods of Tibetan chanting of peace and healing.

We were greeted at the top with the most extraordinary view of the Hudson Valley and its clusters of small towns. I won't deny it: one always has the urge to weep at such an immensity of light, color, and life. Further up, at the ridge's pinnacle, the trees gave way and the bright and blue September sky poured in, the sun clean and golden on its perch. We even saw two bald eagles circling the peak, probably eying the scraps of food strewn about the trail by other hikers. Being in Brooklyn for so long, I forgot how clean the air could be and I inhaled lungfuls at the top with great pleasure.  We had a pic-nic of hummus and rice crackers along with fresh strawberries and hot tea from the thermos. It was surely a splendid way to greet the new season. I will most definitely be returning. If you're in or near NYC and want to join me for a hike, just let me know! We can climb to the top and read poems! (ocean_vuong [at] yahoo [dot] com)


P.S. My manuscript We, the Ashes was a semi-finalist for the Crab Orchard Series First Book Award. Such news could not have come at a better time as I was plagued by a long bout of doubt. doubt, doubt--that familiar foe (and friend).

                  A candid picture of me after the hike. Needless to say, I slept very well that night.