Everything you ever wanted to know about Cold Spring, New York, but were afraid to ask
Not to be confused with Cold Spring Harbor, a town along the north shore of Long Island and the name of Billy Joel's first album, Cold Spring is a quaint little riverfront village in Putnam County, New York, along the Metro-North Hudson line. When Joel was singing about "taking a Greyhound along the Hudson River line," he probably was babbling about a town like Cold Spring.
Cold Spring is right along the eastern edge of the Hudson River, directly opposite the Storm King Mountains. Foundry Rock Park, a tiny riverfront park just south of the Metro-North station, affords an tranquil view of the river and mountains...
...and just north of Foundry Rock Park is a pier, which delivers more of the same.
This is the Hudson House, which is supposed to be renowned for its food and accommodations. When I move a bit above the tax bracket occupied by librarians, I'll let you know if this is true.
I haven't seen much of upstate New York--this is something I want to correct in the near future--but most of the places I've been have really old and fascinating houses, and Cold Spring is no exception.
She's a brick..............house.
The color of this house is, um, interesting.
I don't even know how to describe this house.
Oh, but ain't that America, something to see...little yellow houses, for you and meeeee...
I wonder if they're hiring.
Route 9D, the main road through Putnam County, intersecting Main Street (State Road 301). This is not to be confused with the other dizzying array of Route Nines in the Hudson River region: Route 9A, Route 9B, Route 9W, Route 9G (the gangsta route), Route 9R (the pirate route), or just plain old Route 9. This is Cold Spring's lone traffic light. Those doing a comparative study of traffic light design should probably find another town to visit.
Cold Spring's main commercial district stretches about four blocks--from the above traffic light down to the train tracks--and seemingly falls off into the Hudson.
It's particularly notable for its antique shops, few of which were open on a Wednesday afternoon in January.
There was also a model train store, which is awesome, but it, too, was closed...
...and a store, simply called "The Store," that didn't seem to know what it was altogether.
Upstate New York, particularly the counties along the Hudson, fascinates me. I'd probably go totally stir crazy after about five hours there, but when you live in the city, you NEVER see scenes like this.
This was among my strangest trips so far, namely because I seemed to be recognized as some sort of minor celebrity in Cold Spring. When I was walking down a street near the water, a Saturn driven by a young woman came to an abrupt stop as I passed. The driver, who was attractive but unrecognizable to me, flashed a comic smile--as if she somehow knew I was a photographer--but before I could react, floored her gas pedal and sped away. A punk-ish teenage girl smiled abashedly at me as I walked down Main Street. A cafe owner initially refused to let me use his establishment's bathroom, even after I bought something, then suddenly changed his mind.
And on the Metro-North coming home, after a few stops I noticed I was sitting next to a mind-bogglingly beautiful woman about my age. Just as I was about to say something to her, her cell phone rang, and when she answered, not one word she said was in English.
Cold Spring is right along the eastern edge of the Hudson River, directly opposite the Storm King Mountains. Foundry Rock Park, a tiny riverfront park just south of the Metro-North station, affords an tranquil view of the river and mountains...
...and just north of Foundry Rock Park is a pier, which delivers more of the same.
This is the Hudson House, which is supposed to be renowned for its food and accommodations. When I move a bit above the tax bracket occupied by librarians, I'll let you know if this is true.
I haven't seen much of upstate New York--this is something I want to correct in the near future--but most of the places I've been have really old and fascinating houses, and Cold Spring is no exception.
She's a brick..............house.
The color of this house is, um, interesting.
I don't even know how to describe this house.
Oh, but ain't that America, something to see...little yellow houses, for you and meeeee...
I wonder if they're hiring.
Route 9D, the main road through Putnam County, intersecting Main Street (State Road 301). This is not to be confused with the other dizzying array of Route Nines in the Hudson River region: Route 9A, Route 9B, Route 9W, Route 9G (the gangsta route), Route 9R (the pirate route), or just plain old Route 9. This is Cold Spring's lone traffic light. Those doing a comparative study of traffic light design should probably find another town to visit.
Cold Spring's main commercial district stretches about four blocks--from the above traffic light down to the train tracks--and seemingly falls off into the Hudson.
It's particularly notable for its antique shops, few of which were open on a Wednesday afternoon in January.
There was also a model train store, which is awesome, but it, too, was closed...
...and a store, simply called "The Store," that didn't seem to know what it was altogether.
Upstate New York, particularly the counties along the Hudson, fascinates me. I'd probably go totally stir crazy after about five hours there, but when you live in the city, you NEVER see scenes like this.
This was among my strangest trips so far, namely because I seemed to be recognized as some sort of minor celebrity in Cold Spring. When I was walking down a street near the water, a Saturn driven by a young woman came to an abrupt stop as I passed. The driver, who was attractive but unrecognizable to me, flashed a comic smile--as if she somehow knew I was a photographer--but before I could react, floored her gas pedal and sped away. A punk-ish teenage girl smiled abashedly at me as I walked down Main Street. A cafe owner initially refused to let me use his establishment's bathroom, even after I bought something, then suddenly changed his mind.
And on the Metro-North coming home, after a few stops I noticed I was sitting next to a mind-bogglingly beautiful woman about my age. Just as I was about to say something to her, her cell phone rang, and when she answered, not one word she said was in English.