Where I want to be

I went in search of a shorter way to get to the trailhead down by the river. The problem is that between here and there are railroad tracks, a "sluiceway", a nice park and an interstate highway. I'd seen pedestrians near the trailhead signs while sitting in my car at the light for the ramps to the interstate. But you can't park a car there. I needed to figure this out.

It looked hopeful at first as I found a green space next to Oneonta Creek. It lead to the tracks. I decided to cross them. I was careful, looked twice, etc. There was a railroad worker taking a break in his truck under the overpass which I cross several times a week to shop on the south side. He didn't seem to be bothered by my crossing the tracks.

It soon became obvious that there was no nice pathway, to the left was the creek, to the right was a quarter mile until a bridge that crosses to the park. I have often gone that way - it leads to the baseball field where the Oneonta Outlaws play.

A sensible person would have retreated. I persevered. Quite frankly, I didn't want to pass under the eyes of the railroad worker again. So I started bushwhacking my way. It was rough, but I had long pants and sleeves. My walking sticks helped part the vines and bramble. I could have used some gloves, my hands were quite cut up.

One good thing about walking in this area at the intersection of the overpass and the highway is that cell reception is very good. The soundtrack didn't seem appropriate. I became frustrated with the announcer who seemed to go on and on about uncredited zither players in the Tales of Hoffmann waltz recordings.

I didn't make it to the trailhead, but I have a strategy. Next time I'll walk by the street or drive and leave my car at the soccer fields.

Where I am and where I want to be