Sunday Explorations

Hey, Friends.

This past Sunday was a pretty nice day here, so I decided to go out and do a little exploring. Keep in mind that a nice day in early March in New York means that is was a balmy 41 and sunny outside. That might not sound too great to you, depending on where you live, but since it came after two big snowstorms with another storm looming on the horizon? It was pretty damn nice.

Daylight Savings Time pretty much kicked my ass. After a morning of lazing about and drinking coffee to try to feel like a functional human being again, I decided I should try to go out and enjoy the nice weather. Where to go? I didn't want to go anywhere I had been too recently -- it gets boring after a while. I wasn't sure exactly what trails or parks would be clear of the recent snow, either. The rail trail looked okay in some places -- the warmer (warmish? Probably still counts as too cold to be outdoors if you live someplace where it's perpetually 70 or the like.)  weather had melted a lot of the snow on paved surfaces. So...maybe someplace where there is some pavement would be okay.

I decided to head out to the Roosevelt Farm Lane Trail because I remembered a lot of it being paved.

Apparently my memory is for crap, or I really overestimated the melting abilities of the sunny days after the last storm. This is what I found upon my arrival:

Well that's more snow than I was expecting.

You can't really tell from the picture, but off to the right is the path. Clearly other souls braver than I had already been there and had hiked right on in. They probably also had the foresight to wear something other than sneakers when they set off. I did not make such a wise decision. Hiking around with cold, wet feet for a couple of hours was not on my list of things to do that day. This was as close as I got.

I got back in the car and started driving. I didn't know where I wanted to go, so I figured I would just decide on the fly. It makes it more of an adventure, right? I'm so glad we agree, Friends.

I was headed South when I saw the sign for Our Lady of the Rosary Chapel. I drive past this sign fairly frequently and always mean to stop but never do. Let me fill you in on the background.

I have been there exactly one time. A friend was having her all-in-one "Get Saved" Baptism/Communion/Confirmation celebrated there. I had never seen it done that way before, but it was for an adult so maybe that is how it works. My family always went to Holy Trinity and we had done theses things in stages: Baptism as a baby, First Communion when you were little, and Confirmation in high school. My point, and I do have one other than discussing religious ceremonies, was that I remembered the chapel being very pretty. It also had a really cool area where the Stations of the Cross were outside. I know, you might not find that to be something that should be qualified as "cool". Personally, I had never seen the Stations of the Cross anywhere other than spread out along the walls inside of a church so my mind was blown. 

Back to the original exploration story.

I saw the sign and decided that it would be a perfect time to stop and see the chapel. They have mass there, so I assume everything will be plowed and clear. 

I should probably mention that the chapel is on the property of the old Hudson River State Hospital, a former psychiatric hospital that has been abandoned for years. You can find some shots of the interiors of the buildings right over here and here. Added bonus: there are also rumors that the place might be haunted.

Feel free to call me a dumbass, Friends, but I kind of forgot about that part of it. Yeah, the place had been closed for years and the buildings abandoned, but I wasn't planning on going in to any of them. I was just going to drive through a little bit of the campus to reach the chapel. Shouldn't be anything too bad, right?

Wrong!

So very wrong, and I'm glad I had this idea in the middle of a sunny afternoon. That might have made it worse, honestly, because I could very clearly see that there was not another living soul around.

This is one of the first buildings you come to on the campus:

Rather obvious that no one has been here for a hot second.

It gets even better when you get a closer view. Yes, I did get out of the car to get a better look.

I kinda feel like the zombie apocalypse might start in a building that looks just like this.

Not just abandoned, but condemned! If the big red X doesn't give you a slight case of the heebie jeebies, then the orange sign denoting some kind of danger ought to do it. I didn't feel the need to explore any closer than that at the time. A big red X generally translates to "It might fall on your head". I've also read way too many books about such uplifting subjects as the Black Death and other plagues, so my brain dredged up the fun fact that it could also denote that there were bodies inside. I know that's ridiculous and far-fetched. Doesn't stop my brain from acting like some sort of demented Filofax.

Hindsight being what it is, that little white area on the right-hand side of the door intrigues me. I didn't really notice it until looking at the picture on my phone once I was home. I honestly can't remember if that was a hole in the door and you can see inside, or if it was the only bit of shiny metal on the door and it is reflecting a shadow.

Back in the car, and the drive through the campus continues. There are plenty more abandoned and boarded buildings. You turn right and go past an area with a bunch of low buildings, and that was probably the creepiest part to me. They were far from being in the worst shape -- much better than Pilgrim Home in the shots above -- but it felt like there should have been lots of people around. 

I kept following the signs for the chapel, and on the next turn the road runs along a stone wall with a gate in it.

Gate to Nowhere

I don't know what's on the other side of the gate. Maybe it is private property. Maybe it's a cemetery. It might be a whole lot of nothing. All I could see were trees. I will note that the gate seems to be the sturdiest part of the wall, as most of it looks like it may tip over at any minute.

The road goes down a fairly steep hill, and eventually you get to the entrance to Our Lady of the Rosary Chapel.

Hello, Angel! I'm so glad you look less creepy than the rest of the property!

Continue down the road to the final curve, and you are greeted by a statue.

This is good. I feel like I could definitely find sanctuary here if zombies should come busting out of that first building I saw.

The chapel looked beautiful, situated among all of the trees. I really don't know why I didn't take a picture of the chapel itself.

Unfortunately, nothing beyond the parking lot itself seemed to have been cleared. My seasonally inappropriate choice of shoes had once again thwarted my plans. I would not be getting a close look at the Stations of the Cross on this day. This was the best shot I could manage.

You can kind of see them, along the wall in the back.

There was also a small shrine. I'm assuming it is to the Virgin Mary, since they usually are. Again, snow thwarted my attempts to get closer.

I didn't notice until I was turning the car around that there was also a big crucifix outside on the other side of the chapel. That part was still covered by snow. Clearly I will have to return again on a day when there is no snow on the ground.

I headed back up to Creepy Land and my exit from the campus. It almost felt like some kind of warning when exiting and seeing the angels' backs.

You're on your own after this point, kid.

You can sort of see the low buildings I was talking about in the background of that shot. 

This would also be the time when I realized that, at some point, I had turned off the radio in my car. Why? I have so many reasons.

-- Even though you are absolutely allowed to go to the chapel and it is open to the public, it still kind of felt like I was trespassing on the drive down there. I don't want to get busted by driving around with my radio blasting.

--It felt disrespectful. Not just to the chapel, but to the whole area. It was totally quiet beyond the sounds of traffic from the major roadways nearby. That shouldn't be a surprise since the place has been abandoned for years. It seemed wrong to disrupt that stillness with my radio.

--I don't know about you, but I always find myself turning down the radio in my car when I'm following directions, especially near the destination. It's not like music is suddenly going to impact my vision and make me unable to read road signs or numbers on buildings, but I do it anyway.

--I want to know if something is suddenly going to pop out at me. It could be wildlife scampering across the road, a security guard telling me to get the hell out of there, etc. (Like zombies! Cause that idea hasn't left my brain since seeing the first building.)

After leaving the campus and returning to civilization, blessedly filled with traffic and living people, I decided to head home. That was enough fun for me on my Sunday.

So what did we learn today, Friends?

1. I really need to learn to wear appropriate footwear on my adventures.
2. Abandoned buildings can still give off a creepy vibe, even in the middle of the day.
3. My imagination is more than happy to assume the zombie apocalypse could start at any second given even the slightest provocation.

I Went to Explore and Found a New Friend

Hey, Friends.

As you know if you've been hanging around here for a while, I like to go on adventures and explore when the weather is nice.  I had the day off today, so why not get out and do something?  I'm trying to work my way through visiting all of the Scenic Hudson parks.  Not a huge goal, I realize, but it's still a goal.

Anyway, today I got it in my head that I should go check out Four-Mile Point Preserve.  (You can look it up yourselves at the link above.  I have full confidence in your ability to click a link.  You did find your way here, after all.)  I don't know why I randomly chose that one, but I did.  It's like an hour drive from here, and I was going to have Google Maps as my copilot once again.

My copilot behaved this time, and we (yeah, Google and I are a we now) were able to get there without incident.  I maybe should have looked at the website a little closer because it is the tiniest park I have been to so far.  I was kind of bummed to see that it was so small after driving all the way to get there, not going to lie.  It was still beautiful, though.  I imagine it would be gorgeous in the spring or summer.

So I was wandering around, taking some pictures.  I thought I had the place to myself since there were no other cars in the parking area.  Imagine my surprise when I walk up the one short trail to find a guy hanging out at the top, checking out the view.

There are a lot of different reasons people go to parks and just hang out.  Some, like myself, are just out to explore and see a new place.  Other people are looking for a little solitude and quiet reflection.  It can be weird when you bump into people like that.  Many will pretend you aren't even there.  I didn't know what this guy's deal was, so I stayed off to the side so as not to bother him.

I didn't need to worry, as my new friend Habib is quite the talker.  He's a really cool, down to earth dude.

He jumped right in by saying hello and asking if I'd ever been there before, did I know it was a place that the Native Americans used to live?  I told him I had never been there before.  He told me he comes here every day for an hour or two.  He's in the area visiting for a month for his daughter's wedding, and comes every day to see the natural beauty, and to keep in shape.  He told me he's 60 but he's really active -- he does push-ups and his jump roping while he's there, listens to his music, and he calls and talks to his family and friends in Tunisia, Italy, and Paris.  He asked why I was there, and I explained that I just wanted to check it out since I had the day off from work.  Of course that led him to a million questions about where did I work, where was that, what did I major in during college, etc.  He was just a chill, positive, chatty dude.

There's really no good way to explain Habib -- he's more like an experience.  The best I can do is share some of what he said today, and you can form your own opinions.

"I'm from Tunisia, you know in the Mediterranean? I grew up in an olive grove.  Then I lived in Paris, Italy, and now I live in Venice Beach.  You know where Tunisia is?  Yes, good!  You know! It's not he Middle East!  Everyone thinks it's the fucking Middle East."

"I like to come here because it's natural, untouched.  We don't have that in California -- we build right over everything.  I couldn't live here though.  I don't like this winter.  I'm too warm-blooded."

"Have you ever been to Venice Beach?  You've heard of it though!  It's a fucking zoo!  I leave my house everyday and boom!  People from all over the world, speaking a hundred different languages.  You're a writer, you would like it.  All those people to see.  Did you know it's only 12 blocks long?"

At that point I did say I thought it was bigger than that.

"Pfft!  That's the other part, the canals.  I'm not talking about that part.  The real part, the strip is 12 blocks.  Do you know when the tourists come we are the second biggest attraction behind Disney Land?  It's true!"

"I'm a professional hand-drum player.  You know the hand-drums?  I also do voice-over work for animations."

"I like the Obamas, The Clintons, and the Kennedys.  You know why?  Because they were inclusive.  They say 'Come with us!  We can do great things together!'  This Trump guy?  How the hell is he even running for President?  The man is an idiot.  He thinks that money is the answer to everything.  He thinks he can be President because it is a capitalist country.  He knows nothing about the world."

"Have you ever been to Texas?  Man, I was there for a trip and it is different!  They even have signs on the highway that say "Everything's Bigger in Texas"!  And they mean it!  Even the racism is bigger.  Bunch of fucking rednecks.  It's not like here or California."

And then I told him my brother lived in Texas.

"Yeah, but he's in the Tex-Mex part, near the Gulf.  The part I was in was a lot different.  All those wanna be rancheros.  Think they're real cowboys with their big trucks."

"You come into this world alone, and you die alone.  In the middle you have to look out for and take care of yourself.  You just take care of yourself, and the rest of it -- love, career, it will come to you. You are special, I can tell.  You are natural, a good person.  Don't let the assholes get to you.  Just believe in yourself and good things will come to you.  When someone gets in your face or says hurtful things, you just tell them to fuck off.  Say, "Save that drama for your mama!" "

"I'm not a religious man.  I believe there were three great men with important messages.  The first was Moses:  he led the Jews to freedom, parted the seas.  He brought hope.  Then there was Jesus: he was a hippie.  You need healing?  He'll help you.  Give you food.  Give you the clothes off his back.  He brought the help.  Then there was Mohammed: he brought peace.  That's what the Koran means, you know, peace.  Those terrorists?  They're not real Muslims.  They don't know shit about what they are talking about."

And then he started telling me all about his idea for a cartoon about dolphins.  And a detailed explanation about traditional weddings in Tunisia, and how he wanted to incorporate the two ideas together.  And he wants me to collaborate with him on writing it. "Like the Lion King, sort of."

"Do you smoke weed?  I do, but it's legal in California.  Helps the artist to see better."

"Where do you live?  Whoa, say it again!  How do you even spell Poughkeepsie?  I bet that's from a Native American word.  I love all the place names around here!"

"Why did you come here today?   I think it was a sign.  We are the only two people here on a beautiful day.  Neither of us even live here!  I think we were destined to meet.  Can I give you a hug, my friend?"

"I like Hudson.  Have you been there?  There's a street you would like, all kinds of book shops and cafe life.  I don't like Albany.  It's too dark."

That's the highlights, Friends.  We literally just hung out and talked about all kinds of random stuff for like 2 hours.  He's a cool dude.

And then he asked if I could give him a ride back to his daughter's house, and I said yes.  I know! What the hell was I thinking, giving a ride to a guy I just met.  He could have been a serial killer or a con man, who knows?  In retrospect it was probably a dumb thing to do, but he was such a nice guy it didn't even cross my mind that anything could go wrong. Turns out his daughter lived like a mile away, so it truly wasn't a big deal.

And then he asked for my zodiac sign.  Which, given recent events, was kind of strange.  I told him I was a Taurus, and he immediately asked if my birthday was in April or May.  I told him it's in May. (Seriously, am I the only one who doesn't know which zodiac signs go with what part of the year? Cause this is a bit ridiculous.)  And then he started laughing and something about the seventh house, and "Seven is Heaven!".  I didn't follow that part at all, and it must have shown, as he assured me it was kismet and nothing but good things.

And then he gave me his phone number and email so we can keep in touch.  He wants to get together again before he goes back to Venice Beach in a month so we can talk more about the animation.  He didn't even ask for my contact information.  He told me my destiny was what I make it, and fate is in my hands.  And that he's going out dancing in Saratoga Springs tonight, and tomorrow he leaves to go to Atlantic City with his cousins from Canada for a week.  But maybe after that we could get together again?

Dude is a trip!  It was an unexpected part of the adventure, but I really enjoyed talking with him.  I'm glad I randomly decided to go to that park this afternoon.

And no, Friends, he wasn't hitting on me.  Get your minds out of the gutter.  There was none of that kind of vibe coming from him.  He was just a nice guy, and I think he was happy to have some to talk to.

Oh, and I took a couple of pictures, since that was what I had planned on doing in the first place.

Pond Overlook

Hudson River view, where our chat took place

Falling Waters Preserve

Alternate Title:  Google Maps Still Hates Me

Today is Black Friday.  There is not enough money in the world to make me go near a mall or shopping center today.  I don't care how fantastic the deals are supposed to be.  I went once a few years ago with my mother, and some woman practically knocked me down in her effort to yank a salt and pepper set out of my hands.  A salt and pepper shaker set!  I have no desire to deal with that level of overzealous shopping insanity ever again.

Also, it was absolutely beautiful out today!  Temperatures in the mid 60s at the end of November?  There is no reason to stay inside and let such a day go to waste.

So I decided to go on an adventure.  The destination: Falling Waters Preserve.  I had never been there before, and the name just sounded really cool.  (Yup.  That was the entirety of my decision-making process.)

You might be wondering what Google Maps has to do with all of this since there are clearly directions on the website. You're correct, there are directions.  But I'm not coming from Saugerties, so I needed different directions.  Google Maps has been behaving itself of late, so I decided to rely on them.  The drive should only take about 35 minutes. 

I had a rough idea of where I had to go.  The beginning went swimmingly, as Google Maps was in agreement with the general direction I knew I needed to be heading.   Until it wasn't....well, not really.

Friends, you would be forgiven for wondering what the hell is wrong with me for blindly following Google Maps when it has tried to lure me to my death, gotten me very lost taken me to some unexpected destinations in the past.  I assumed it was just taking me the "less traffic route", and I went with it.  It did recognize Falling Waters Preserve as a place when I entered it in, so I figured I would get there eventually.

Bad, bad mistake.

The silver lining to this little trip was that it wasn't on dodgy dirt roads, and was conveniently located around the main road near my brother's old house.  If I got completely lost I already knew how to get home.  Bonus!

So I followed Google Maps.  It was a pretty drive.  I remember noticing a sign that said "Arthritis Hurts" on the way up, but I didn't get to read the rest of it.  Probably true, although it was odd to announce on a sign. This will become relevant later, I promise.

The street must have changed names about 12 times while I was driving.  Somehow in the middle of all this I missed whatever turn Google Maps had wanted me to take.  I eventually wound up on Main Street in Saugerties -- north of where I was supposed to be.  Also, for no reason I could ascertain, Google Maps had gone silent.  My phone was not on silent.  It was hooked up to my car, so Google Maps should have been announcing all of the turns to me through the freaking blue-tooth connection, but it wasn't.  Google was giving me the silent treatment.  I was trying to make all of these turns  while driving and checking the screen.  Not fun..and probably not terribly safe, either.

Finally, Google gets us turned around and going back basically the same way we just came. (When I say "us" and "we", I mean Google and myself.  No one else was with me.)  This time I actually found the street it wanted me to turn on.  The sign was bent and hard to read, which is probably why I missed it the first go-round.

I'm driving down the street, and I notice I am coming to a dead-end at a closed gate.  A closed gate with a big sign that says Private Property.

Damn it, Google Maps!  What have you done to me this time?

Apparently it took me to the wrong end of the property.  Not the first time this has happened.  Also, it would appear, not the only time GPS has failed to get people to the correct location.  There is actually a sign by the gate saying that you need to go south to York (Street?  Road?  Didn't specify.) to get to the entrance of Falling Waters Preserve.  Fantastic.

So I pull back out onto the road I was just on, and I start heading South, looking for a street called York.  I was mad at my co-pilot, so Google was being ignored since I didn't have time to reprogram it and it wanted to send me back to the wrong place again.

I knew I had once again gone too far, this time going South, when I passed the "Arthritis" sign. Okay.  Time to find somewhere to pull over before I ended up back down in my brother's old neighborhood. I found a convenience store and pulled into their parking lot.  

How am I going to find this place?  It should not be this difficult.  My phone was for crap, and it wouldn't let me pull up the Scenic Hudson website to get the actual street address.  I literally typed in "York Street" in Google Maps and hoped it came up with something that looked to be in approximately the right area.

Success!  York Street found, and I once again set off following Google's directions.

"Arthritis Hurts

Jesus Can Still Heal"

And on trip number 3 past the Arthritis sign I now knew it was for a church.  Fun times.

Finally, I found the place.  It took and hour and a half to reach a destination that should have taken about 35 minutes.  Oh, Google. This is the kind of thing that makes me less than confident in our relationship.  There has to be trust for this to work, and you make it so hard to trust you at times.

It really was beautiful, and worth the effort to find it.  I took some pictures for you, Friends.

I took the Upland Trail first, since it said there was a waterfall at the northern end.  I do love waterfalls.

Main trail

Statue bordering the trail, next to private property

Waterfall at the northern end of the trail

Smaller waterfall along the trail

Trail's end.  Literally stops at a cliff.

Instead of just going back the way I came, I took the Riverside Trail.  It was supposed to have several shoreline overlooks.  They were very pretty, but I found other things of interest as well.

Trail along the shoreline

Bench at one of the scenic overlooks

Fungi

Tree stump.  There were a lot of trees that had fallen down or been damaged.

I don't know why this drew my attention, but it did.  It looks like a fairy's house...and I have a really active imagination.

Last was the Father C. Jorn Trail.  It is the shortest trail, but it has an interesting story.  To quote the park guide:

Once the road to a riverfront icehouse, the trail passes the preserve's southern waterfall, then parallels the stream until it enters the Hudson.  Its name honors Father Charles Jorn (1906-2002), longtime chaplain at the Dominican Sisters' Sparkhill infirmary.  While vacationing here each October for 39 years, he spent every day except Sunday clearing trails and creating a park around the icehouse remains--using only a machete and rake.  The trail follows the route he walked to reach his "work".

Rest area near the southern waterfall

Along the Hudson

The ground was covered with these things along the water's edge

Waves in action

Shoreline

Short video of the southern waterfall, shot with Boomerang so it looks like it goes back and forth

I did not use Google Maps on the way back.  I actually knew where I was going by this point.  I did not need to go on another hour-long odyssey at that point.

Oh, and on the 4th trip past the Arthritis sign, I finally got to read the entire thing:

Arthritis Hurts

Jesus Can Still Heal

Right Here

Underneath were the times for Sunday services.  

What did we learn today, Friends?

1) Nature is beautiful, and it's worth the effort to get out and enjoy it.  (We already knew that, but it is always important to remember.)

2) Google Maps is still a fickle and unreliable co-pilot.  

3) If you have arthritis pain and really want it healed, you should go find this church on Route 32. Apparently they can make you feel better.

Adventures With Google Maps

I know I've said it before, but I like Google.  A lot.  Probably more than anyone should.  They know all the sordid secrets of my search history, and could probably own my soul if they so chose.  That's why I find it so frustrating that Google Maps seems to hate me so much, or just plain goes out of its way to make my life far more interesting than it needs to be.

You would think I would learn that Google Maps seems to like to screw with me sometimes, just apparently to amuse itself.  Let's count the ways Google Maps has messed with me so far this year, shall we?

1) I'm still cutting them some slack on the walking directions in New York City, since they are still in beta, but that situation was ridiculous. How could it not keep up with the speed of people walking?  I still think that might be more of a problem with my service than Google itself.

2) They got me again when I needed directions to a park that I have been to many times before, but I was coming from a different area and didn't know how to get there. For whatever reason, Google Maps decided to take me to the back of the park, to an entrance that has been closed for so many years I had no idea it even existed.  I ended up having to follow signs to get around to the actual entrance.

3) I used it on vacation, when my mother and I took my niece and nephew to Great Wolf Lodge in Massachusetts.  It got us close to the destination -- sort of. It just randomly stopped us in an area and told us we had reached our destination.  Ummm, no.  This is like the middle of a freaking forest, not Great Wolf Lodge.  We had to pull into a state park and get new directions to actually reach our destination.  So, I guess it really did get us there, eventually, but just with an interesting scenic drive as a bonus.

On a normal day, Google has no trouble telling me exactly how long it will take to get to work in the morning -- even when I did not ask it, nor tell it where I work.  Kind of unsettling, but they are usually accurate.  Obviously Google knows my location.  Every time I need directions, however, it tells me -- without fail -- that my destination is 3 hours and 42 minutes away, and I need to get on the New York State Thruway.  Why, Google, why?  You know where I live.  Why do you suddenly think I live in New York City or Long Island?  I've learned that I will always have to remind it of my current location.

You might be wondering, "If you have had so many problems using Google Maps, why do you keep going back?  You must be a glutton for punishment."  Maybe I am, or maybe I'm just really stubborn. Maybe I just hope that Google Maps and I can learn and grow together to overcome these issues. Also, I don't have a GPS, so Google Maps is my option.

Which leads us to this weekend's adventure.

I will admit that it may have been kind of stupid to head out on my own to begin with.  My car is still not right. In fact, I just celebrated the 3 month anniversary of driving around with my "Malfunction Indicator Light" on a little while ago.  The car is so loud that it sounds like a damn motorcycle or airplane when I'm driving.  (It does have to get inspected this month, so one way or the other this will have to be addressed at some point. I'm just procrastinating.)  So, maybe not the wisest of ideas to head off into the unknown.  Whatever.  Car seemed to be running fine, so off I went!

My destination:  The Dover Stone Church.  It's only about half an hour drive, so not a terribly big adventure.

Who's riding shotgun with me on this little adventure?  You know it, baby: Google Maps.  One day my blind faith and trust in them will be rewarded, I hope.

The directions looked pretty clear-cut in the brochure (see the link above), but I'm not all that familiar with that part of the county, and I wasn't about to keep my phone open trying to read that brochure while driving.  That way lies accidents.

Everything was going swimmingly until Google Maps told me to take a right onto a street that I was pretty sure hadn't been mentioned in the brochure's directions.  Maybe I do have too much faith in Google, or maybe I am just incredibly stupid, but I made the turn.  Why not?  Granted, my car is a bit dodgy in the maintenance arena at the moment, but I had a full tank of gas and I was on an adventure, so why not?  I thought maybe Google knew a shortcut to my destination.  Why they would know better than the town the destination was located in never crossed my mind at that point.

There we were:  Google Maps and I were on a lovely drive, down a winding country road.  We were travelling past farms and meadows -- a very bucolic and idyllic scene.  We were happily driving along for a while, and I assumed that eventually we were going to come into town.  The brochure said parking was near a pizza place and an elementary school.  At some point we had to be near a more populated area.

And then it happened -- the moment when I knew, once again, that Google Maps had betrayed me and was taking me to some untold destination.  It tells me to take a left onto another road.  WTF? Google, my dear, I don't even see a road to turn onto.

I slowed down to take a better look.  Is that...?  Is that what Google is calling a road?  Honestly, it looked like someone's driveway.  It was a dirt road, with a very faded sign at the end.

No.  Just, no. There is a limit as to how much of an adventure this is going to be, and you have just crossed that line, Google.  This seems like it could be the plot of a horror movie.  Lone female, out in the country, driving down an unfamiliar dirt road.... Blam!  Zombie attack! Serial killer!  Aliens! Pick your poison.

Ignoring my overactive imagination and getting back to reality, there were some very real reasons not to go down that road.

--I know there is an area out here, somewhere, that I don't want to stumble into.  Maybe the urban legends about it are true, maybe they aren't.  Maybe they are just really nice people tired of dealing with other people's bullshit and attitudes.  Either way, I don't have any desire to find out.

--This totally looks like I am going to drive down the road and end up at the front door of a farmhouse.  I do not need to make a random appearance in some poor unsuspecting soul's yard.  My car isn't exactly quiet.  No need to scare the shit out of anyone.

--I am not driving down a dirt road, in the middle of nowhere, in a car that may or may not fall apart completely if banged around too much.  If I actually have a muffler left on the car at this point, I'm sure I won't after bouncing along that road.

Not happening.

So I pulled over to the side of the road, without turning down the dodgy dirt road, and decided to change directions.  I put in the name of the pizza place that was in the brochure as a place that you could park.

Boom!  Instant directions, which did not include the dirt road. In fact, they sent me all the way back in the direction I had just come.  I got to the pizza place only to find all sorts of signs saying that the parking was for the restaurant customers only.  (I think maybe the brochure needs to update that fact.) I remembered from the map in the brochure that the entrance to The Stone Church should be just a little ways down the road, and the elementary school -- the other suggested parking location -- should be just on the other side of it.

And it was.  There were several other people walking along who had obviously parked there for the same destination.  Thank you helpful brochure!  I was really getting tired of the driving portion of the adventure at that point.

One turn, Google Maps!

That's right, folks.  The entire trip should have been going straight and making one right turn.  I have no idea where Google Maps was trying to kidnap me to, nor do I care to find out.  Maybe it was taking me to the wrong side of the park once again. Maybe it was lonely and wanted to make our trip special with a scenic drive. Maybe it was luring me out to a shack in the woods to meet my demise.

I don't know, and I don't care.  I sure wasn't going to use it on the way home.  I can handle making a fucking left turn by myself without navigational assistance.

At least the Stone Church was pretty cool, and worth the effort to get there.  I took some pictures.

Marker to explain where you are.

Entrance/Exit path to the park.

The Stone Church, as seen from the trail.

The view in the cave.  There is a waterfall in there, but I couldn't get a decent picture of it.

Looking back out at the entrance and the trail.

Will I be using Google Maps again?  Yes.  I still don't have a GPS, and 90% of the time they are really very accurate.  I still don't understand how it can give me perfect directions to get from here to The Wild Center in Tupper Lake, yet a destination in Dutchess County just boggles its little electronic mind.  

Consider it a lesson not learned, if you must.  Chalk it up to me being an idiot to keep trusting it.  I don't care.  I choose to think it makes my adventures more interesting, and maybe one of these happy little mistakes will lead me to something awesome one of these days.

**Also, as I discovered on the way to work this afternoon, I think my car may really have lost whatever bit of muffler it had still possessed.  It is exponentially louder now, and the whole car freaking vibrates from it.  My neighbors are going to love me!**