Death Along the Hudson

TROY, NY, Mar 28 - 2012 - Covering a conference leaves little time for exercise, much less sightseeing. So I often combine the two: sightseeing while running. And on this Saturday (really, who has the nerve to schedule a full day of conference on the weekend!) I make time by getting up early. As a friend of mine is fond of saying, "you can rest when you are dead."

I imagine running along the lush Hudson River valley, as the sun rises over the river, farmers markets, verdant hills, small towns with quaint bakeries, coffee shops. I need some inspiration because at 5:20AM, it's quite dark and cold.

The streets are understandably deserted. I run downhill on Hoosick Avenue until it hits the river and turn left towards South Troy and look for a running path. Isn't there a law that your city has to have a multi-use path and a pretty park if it has a waterfront? I see nothing of the sort. I settle for a sidewalks so rough and uneven that they seemto have heaved and crashed.

Speed is suffering as I pick my way around broken beer bottles. Throwing empties out of the car on Friday nights must be a local custom. Wait. Don't make snap judgments. Troy can't be all bad. It can't all be broken down, with everyone drinking and no one recycling. Maybe the next mile. So many auto parts stores. At least there cars are in good shape. 

It's starting to get light. I see the cherry trees were in bloom. The few people that were out wished me good morning.

But every block brings more boarded up shops and business and houses in disrepair. A few convenience stores are open, their signs advertising lottery tickets shine like beacons in the emerging light. By the time I cross the Hudson into Waterford, I've sunk into depressing thoughts about dying small towns and cities, a malaise that has taken over, starting from my bike ride across the country, seeing boarded up America main streets in town after town. That was years ago. Before the recession. What hope is there now?

I manage to to eke out 11 miles, clean up. I am only too happy to be bussed to Rensaeller Polytechnic Institute. Its exquisitely manicured campus, the ethereal $30 million EMPAC center, the whimsical structures from imaginative minds that will never grace the local waterfront, conversations of rich kids from better off places...all of it helps to fade the images of what lurks out there.

Can we all stay here forever?  

Comments

[Matt Lombard]

I was planning on responding by saying that Troy was just a bad example of Upstate, and that Californians always find Upstate depressing, but then I thought about it, and I guess the rest of the state is much the same. Rochester was a great city, but Kodak has fallen on hard times, and Rochester follows Kodak. Rochester still has some of the best cultural (music and photography) stuff you'll find anywhere. Buffalo and Syracuse have been bleak for a long time. It has been a long time since Binghamton was shiny and new. Albany is the state capital. Jamestown is close enough to Ohio you can smell it. Corning is one city in NY I can think of where things aren't as bleak.

You might venture a few hours north to the Adirondaks to find places unaffected by time, boom, or bust. You would like Lake Placid. Active, quaint, and you'd get a kick out of the local accent. If you get a day free, it would be one place worth going. It's very close to home for me.

[John]

Roopinder,

Wish I had known you were right across the river in Troy. I would have been happy to direct you to some of the more aesthetically pleasant areas in the Capital District for your run.

Many cities in the Hudson Valley peaked in the 19th century and early 20th century. At one point Troy was one of the most prosperous cities in the US.

Sorry you didn't get to experience the nicer parts of this area, there are many.