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A River Runs Through ItTime Spent in the Hudson ValleyBy Stephen G. HendersonIn the abbreviated argot of Manhattan real estate ads, I have a “Riv Vu.” Meaning that from my Upper West Side apartment, I can see the Hudson River. This far south, the Hudson’s majesty is nearly overshadowed by skyscrapers, and must also defer to the Atlantic Ocean, whose tides sweep upriver for miles each day. However, the view always entices and makes me pensive. Sure, the Mississippi River may be longer, and the Colorado is (arguably) more scenic, but only the Hudson meanders through a valley haunted by ghosts of John D. Rockefeller, Benedict Arnold, Edgar Allen Poe, and even the Buddha Bodhisattva. Discovered by an Italian sailor named Giovanni da Verrazano, the river is named for Henry Hudson, a British explorer of the Dutch East India Company who in 1609 arrived on the North American Coast while trying to find a passage to the Far East. After dallying in Chesapeake Bay, he turned north and sailed his ship, the Half Moon, through New York harbor and north to what is now Albany. This winter-long journey was hard, so much so that the crew mutinied and set Hudson adrift in a dinghy. He was never seen again. Poor Henry, the Hudson’s first ghost. I thought of him recently while gazing yet again at my watery backyard and decided some exploration of the manor houses, museums, monasteries, restaurants and organic farms that fill his namesake valley was long overdue. So, on a brilliantly clear day, when winter and spring were doing battle, and warmer temperatures were for the moment winning, I drove up the Henry Hudson Parkway and past the George Washington Bridge. The jagged, rocky cliffs called the Palisades rose up behind me; the city and my life there quickly disappeared from view. To the Manor BornI soon arrived at Tarrytown, a village Washington Irving made famous with “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” and where he built his famous home, Sunnyside. Irving once wrote, “I thank God I was born on the banks of the Hudson!” His statement reflects the exuberance of the Romantic Movement, which flourished in the 19th century’s early decades. The Romantics (Wordsworth, chief among them) found nature to be their chief source of inspiration, and celebrated it in poetry and prose. Irving is not much read today, despite having created enduring characters such as Ichabod Crane and Rip Van Winkle, giving a name to New York City’s basketball team, the Knicks (“Dietrich Knickerbocker” was Irving’s first pen name), and spawning a Johnny Depp movie: Tim Burton directed “Sleepy Hollow” in 1999. In his day, however, Irving was the first American writer to gain international fame and fortune. He wrote tales celebrating the Dutch residents of early New York, and distinctive designs from this time period – gabled roofs, weathervanes, and irregular window sizing – are evident at Sunnyside. Perched above the Hudson River, this house’s architecture merges with the landscape in a way that was considered altogether new. Hailed as the ultimate manifestation of the “romantic spirit” in America, illustrations of Sunnyside appeared in prints, magazines, and newspapers, and it was atomized as carefully as one of Martha Stewart’s residences might be today. It’s a fascinating place to spend an afternoon. Not that Irving’s is the only noteworthy home here. As steamship travel became more efficient – Robert Fulton launched the first financially successful steamboat on the Hudson in 1807 -- and especially after the New York Central Railroad was built along the river’s banks four decades later, the Hudson Valley became an increasingly desirable place for wealthy New Yorkers to build country estates. Most are now museums open to the public. There’s Kykuit, a Dutch word meaning “lookout,” which John D. Rockefeller built on an exposed hilltop five hundred feet above sea level, and became home to four generations of his family. Samuel Morse, inventor of the telegraph and Morse code, erected Locust Grove. Clermont was home to Robert R. Livington, who negotiated the Louisiana Purchase. Hyde Park was built by the Vanderbilts; Olana is the masterpiece of Frederic Edwin Church, one of the foremost artists of the Hudson River School of painting. Like Washington Irving, all these mansions are constructed on the Hudson’s Eastern Shore, or the “sunny side.” I toured several of these pleasant spots before crossing over to the Hudson’s darker, more forbidding western shores, enroute to West Point Academy. Go Army!Arriving past dusk, I found searchlights trained on me. Machine-gun toting guards slowly scrutinized my driver’s license, then the interior of my car, trunk, and under the front hood. Operatives from Al Qaeda will have a difficult time sneaking into America’s first military school. The Thayer Hotel, which is on West Point’s campus, is named for Sylvanus Thayer who, starting in 1817, instituted a strict educational training and code of conduct for cadets, most of which is still in force today. (An early casualty of this new curriculum was Edgar Allen Poe, who lasted only six months of his first, or “plebe,” year in 1830.) The Thayer is a three-winged pile of locally mined granite, with turrets and a crenellated roofline that overlooks the Hudson below: it’s a grand, if somewhat spooky place. At the hotel’s restaurant for dinner, I was one of three people seated in a high-ceilinged, chandeliered room that could easily hold several hundred. Waiters appeared and receded into deep shadows. While I savored a filet mignon (it seemed a “red meat” kind of room) and drank an excellent Merlot made at a Hudson Valley vineyard, a thick white fog rolled in over the water. Though it looked like meringue, frothy and tossed up in peaks, it was also rather terrifying. I imagined being George Washington back when this spot was a Revolutionary War garrison, and keeping the Hudson navigable was vital to prevent British troops from cutting off New England from the other colonies. Since the river makes an “S” shape here with two looping right turns, Washington stretched a 500-yard chain of massive iron links across to sink any enemy ship attempting to pass. Such precautions didn’t deter Major General Benedict Arnold, then commander of the post, who in 1780 attempted to betray it to the British for 10,000 gold pounds. Only some lucky sleuthing revealed the plot, just days before it was to be actualized. Little could Arnold have imagined that two centuries years later, West Point would be one of the most popular tourist destination in New York State. Before embarking on a guided tour the following afternoon, I visited the West Point Museum, which possesses the world’s largest collection of military artifacts. Display cases are stuffed with everything from crossbows and suits of medieval armor, to pistols that belonged to Napoleon and Hitler, and an apple petrified by the atom bomb dropped on Hiroshima. The text printed alongside these displays has a gung-ho, nearly adulatory tone, as when 18th century European army maneuvers are described as “exquisite military minuets.” By far the most unsettling feature of this museum, however, are elaborate dioramas that depict battles such as Julius Caesar’s conquest of Avaricum (“a typical Roman siege”), or Napoleon’s at Austerlitz. Small staircases are constructed in front of these dioramas, presumably to allow even the youngest children a good look at the armies of toy soldiers, many of them fallen, with tiny swords or axes impaled through their chests and skulls. Wise words from famous warriors are printed near the museum’s exit. Robert E. Lee’s (class of 1829), seems most prescient: “It is well that war is so terrible – we would grow too fond of it.” Surprisingly, the word “war” isn’t uttered once on the hour-long tour of West Point. Instead, an ebullient young escort named Bonnie Langham, kept everyone giggling with her wry observances about life at the Academy, now that 17% of cadets are female. “All cadets must participate in sports, and take a physical education test once a year,” she said. “The test is the same for men and women. This assures that the men are in as excellent physical shape as the women.” At the Cadet Chapel, which has the world’s biggest pipe organ and a fantastic quantity of stained glass, we learned that General Norman Schwarzkopf (‘56) is vain about his excellent singing voice. At the Cadet parade grounds, there were more witticisms regarding General Douglas MacArthur’s (‘03) overprotective mother -- she lived on campus all four years that MacArthur was a cadet -- and about General George Patton’s (‘09) dyslexia. Later, I asked Langham if her patter was approved by the U.S. Army. “There are certain things we have to say, but not many,” she replied. “I’m actually not so good with dates and numbers. Besides, the other stories just seem a lot more fun to me.” In fact, her zingers all found an appreciative audience in the several dozen people along on the tour. Hee-hee, ho-ho, it’s off to war we go. Jewel of the Hudson: RhinebeckShocked, if not awed, by the hilarity of touring West Point, I drove across the Hudson once again, and headed north along 9W. I passed the CIA (that’s the Culinary Institute of America, where pies, not spies, are made) and through Hyde Park, hometown of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. The town’s sign has an old-fashioned silhouette of FDR – there is his lantern jaw, wireless spectacles, and a jaunty cigarette holder clamped between his teeth. In our anti-tobacco age, I imagine some abstemious town official will soon see fit to yank the smoke from Roosevelt’s lips. History, as they say, belongs to the victors. Eventually, I came to Rhinebeck, and checked into the Beekman Arms Hotel, which mixes period antiques with current amenities like modems and mini-bars. Called the “oldest Inn in America,” this is one of the very few places that can substantiate the claim, “George Washington slept here.” Rhinebeck is rich in architectural delights. There are many excellent antique stores, and the village hosts one of the East Coast’s best-known antique fairs, convening this year on May 24 and 25. I browsed for awhile, looking at mantel clocks, Currier & Ives prints, and furniture stuffed with its original horsehair. I was disappointed to find the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome closed for the season. This hangar museum features aircraft from 1900 through 1940, and even offers the intrepid a chance to fly in an open-cockpit biplane. That evening, I ate dinner at Gigi, a sleek Italian trattoria co-owned by actor Stanley Tucci and Gianni Scappin, a chef who created the food for Tucci’s 1996 movie, “Big Night.” Both my thin crust pizza, and risotto with shrimp, squash and fresh herbs utilized the locally grown, organic produce for which the Hudson Valley is celebrated. Good luck getting a table when the new Performing Arts Center designed by architect Frank Gehry opens in early May at Bard College, a few miles north. Haven’t yet made it to Bilbao? Then hurry here to see what 62 million dollars worth of brushed steel panels looks like. A Rhinebeck paper effusively termed the design, “a Miro in Motion.” On the morning I visited, a grumpier appraisal was offered by Stu Corkin, a retired policeman who was sitting in his car, observing the construction. “It looks like a beached whale that’s been gutted by seagulls. I think I’d be as scared as Jonah to enter that mouth,” he said, nodding towards the entrance. That was Then, This is ZenFrank Gehry doesn’t much frighten me. I’ll admit, though, I was a wee bit nervous as I made my way to the Zen Mountain Monastery, which was my final destination in the Hudson Valley. Located in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains, the monastery has 235 acres bordered by two picturesque waterways, the Esopus and Beaverkill. Considered a sacred site since native American tribes first lived here, the area has witnessed spiritual activities from early American transcendentalists, Jewish and Christian mystics, hippies and “flower children” to the catholic monks who built a retreat here in the 1930’s. Constructed in an Arts and Crafts style, this charming building (which is now the main center for the Zen Mountain Monastery) boasts bluestone quarried high from Tremper Mountain and enormous support beams hewn from the surrounding area’s oak trees. Whimsical touches abound such as door handles and window latches fashioned from metal into grasshoppers, butterflies and bees. For all this, the accommodations are, to say the least, Spartan. I slept on a rough-hewn bunk bed in a dormitory room that I shared with several other men, at least two of whom were operatic snorers. Bathrooms were also communal, and posted rules advised how often to flush. A wake-up gong sounded at 4:30 a.m. each morning, and lights out was 9:30 p.m. While making my reservations, one of the monks, who uses the single name of “Ryushin,” was warmly welcoming. But he was also quick to disabuse me of any idea that this might be a kind of “existential spa,” or place to be spiritually pampered. “The spark of the questioning mind is in everyone, and this place supports that idea,” Ryushin said. “But we ask for wakefulness, and an accountability for one’s actions. Relaxation is not what happens here. You come here to strengthen your consciousness.” In other words, no pain, no gain. So, I learned to sit zazen, or practice Buddhist meditation by maintaining an absolutely fixed position for four half-hour periods each day. I was assigned “work duty,” and stitched prayer pillows for the chapel. A mandatory silence is observed for two hours every morning and another two each night. The food was earnest vegetarian cuisine like Tofu and Carrot Casserole or Beet Soup, and portions were modest. Finally, I was introduced to QiGong, a series of ancient Taoist longevity exercises, which combine standing, focussed breathing, and subtle movements of the lower back. We practiced this for nearly six hours on Saturday. Honestly? I loved every minute. On my final morning at the monastery, I sat facing a window in the chapel, eyes closed. Light streamed in, warming my face. My spine still tingled from QiGong, and I felt exceedingly virtuous from foregoing meat, sugar or alcohol for the last 48 hours. I was puzzling over the riddle of a Buddhist Koan that a monk explicated earlier -- something about being clumsy enough to be intelligent – when suddenly a tingling bell signaled the end of zazen. Whether stupid from sleep deprivation, or because I’d been granted a moment of Zen wisdom, the half-hour meditation seemed to have passed in a matter of seconds. Opening my eyes, I felt like Rip Van Winkle. Where had the time gone? Who was I? Henry’s River carried me upstate in a kind of dream. I’d seen visions of wealth and war, feast and fasting, monuments old and monuments still under construction. I’d traveled from the past into the present. Now, it was time to retrace my path through the Hudson Valley, floating back downstream to my job, family, and future. What would I find when I got there? An ideal day10:00 a.m.: If you have time for only one Hudson Valley Mansion, make it either Sunnyside or Kykuit. There’s nothing “standard” about this latter property, built with Rockefeller’s Standard Oil fortune. 12:00 noon: Drive west across the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge. Arrive at the Storm King Art Center, America’s premier outdoor sculpture park, with masterworks by Alexander Calder, Louise Nevelson, Andy Goldsworthy and Isamu Noguchi. Bring a picnic lunch. 2:00 p.m.: Recross the Hudson, and drive up Route 9. When you see FDR’s house in Hyde Park, imagine Franklin and Eleanor holding hands at the drive-in movie theater, which is directly across the street. 3:00 p.m.: Arrive in Rhinebeck, and check into the Beekman Arms. Shop for antiques at the Rhinebeck Antiques Fair. Or, see the aircraft at the Rhinebeck Aerodrome. Feel like Snoopy? Then hop aboard a biplane, and take on the Red Baron. 8:00 p.m.: Have a “Big Night” with dinner at Gigi. The risotto is fantastico! 10:00 p.m.: Before you go to bed, decide if tomorrow morning you’ll head to West Point Academy or the Zen Mountain Monastery. War or Peace? As always, the choice is yours. When You GoGetting There: You’ll want to drive to the Hudson Valley. Seeing how this waterway reasserts its grandeur only a few miles north of New York City is half the fun. Hint to first time visitors: drive on the eastern shore, which is the sunny side. Lodging:The Thayer Hotel, 674 Thayer Road, West Point The Beekman Arms, 6387 Mill Street (Rt. 9), Rhinebeck Zen Mountain Monastery, South Plank Road, Mt. Tremper Dining:40 West, 40 West Market Street, Rhinebeck Gigi, 6422 Montgomery Street, Rhinebeck “Hudson Mediterranean” cuisine: traditional Italian dishes made with ingredients that highlight the bounty of the farms, gardens, and artisans of the Hudson Valley. Entrees start at $16.50 Minetta Brook, an arts organization, will sponsor a free food event, with Hudson Valley chefs and farmers collaborating on local cuisine. May 24 and 25 (the same weekend as the Rhinebeck Antiques Fair.) For more information, call 212-431-7165 or visit www.minettabrook.org Other Activities:(NOTE: The following Hudson Valley mansions are listed as they are situated, south to north, along the river’s eastern bank.) Sunnyside, West Sunnyside Lane (off Route 9), Tarrytown Kykuit, Rt. 9, Sleepy Hollow Locust Grove, 2683 South Road (Route 9), Poughkeepsie Vanderbilt Mansion, 519 Albany Post Road, Hyde Park Franklin Delano Roosevelt Home and Library, Route 9,
Hyde Park Clermont, One Clermont Avenue, Germantown Olana, Route 9G, Greenport Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome, Stone Church Road and Norton
Road, Rhinebeck Rhinebeck Antiques Fair (May 24 and 25), Dutchess
County Fair Grounds, Rt. 9, Rhinebeck. 10:00 a.m. – 5:00 p.m. SAT, 11 a.m.
– 4:00 p.m. SUN Storm King Art Center, Old Pleasant Hill Road,
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