The Catskills & New Jersey
15 May 2024
Back in the boondocks and billeted at the Red Ranch Inn in the Catskills, a region, about sixty miles north of New York City, I’m in the Rip Van Winkle Brewing Company Bar & Restaurant conveniently situated next door.
One of the (very loud) customers has a sweatshirt with the following legend, attributed to Thomas Jefferson, emblazoned on the back:
“The beauty of the Second Amendment is that it will not be needed until they try and take it”
Yes, it’s that kind of place and after my Maine experience, I keep myself to myself.
They have the best jukebox playlist imaginable, though. REM, Radiohead, Counting Crows, Deep Blue Something, Four Non-Blondes, Crash Test Dummies, Eagle Eye Cherry, Alanis Morrissette and the inevitable Tom Petty all get plundered, while everyone gets plastered on murky beer.
Presumably, this behaviour is in honour of the fictional character of Rip: a Dutch-American villager from colonial times. The story goes he imbibed strong liquor and fell deeply asleep in the Catskill Mountains, waking twenty years later having missed the American Revolution.
12 May 2024
Despite the inevitable rain, the route I follow through is enchanting. It’s another one from the treasure trove I found online and is simply but unimaginatively titled ‘BestofCatskills’.
Much slower than previous days, it twists and turns its way through the hills, all heavily wooded and slightly mysterious, before I pop out on the banks of the Hudson River, 30 miles north of Newburgh.
Like all towns, Newburgh has its own brewery with another huge selection to go at including the mind-bendingly powerful, TeraBoss triple IPA boasting an ABV of 10%. Well, it would be rude not to try it.
Nearby is the recommended Hudson Tacos and while they are far from authentically Mexican, the flavour combinations are inspired. Blackened Catfish, with charred Jalapeño Mayo, Avocado & Spicy Greens; Filet Mignon with crispy shallot with Chimichurri and Tuna with chilled Tataki, Asian Slaw and crunchy Kimchi are but three. Not expensive either at under $4 each, so I’m not entirely sure how the bill ended up as $75 but there was a Margarita and a few glasses of Chardonnay involved also.
13 May 2024
The West Coast, with Hollywood at one end and Silicon Valley at the other can lay a reasonable claim, at a macro level, to be the most culturally significant state in the USA. Through a micro lens though, I would argue that the two greatest cultural contributions of the late-20th century come from the east.
Not New York, but from over the Hudson River in Noo Joyzee, that gifted to the world not just Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band but also, the inspiration to The Sopranos, thought by many (this correspondent included) to be the finest television series ever broadcast.
14 Aspen Drive in North Caldwell is the house where this dysfunctional tribe lived. It is up a long, winding, leafy road that features in the opening credits, as does the property itself.
It’s an opulent neighbourhood of large, individual properties on sizeable plots rather than a series of identical McMansions, bought by people with more money than taste, as has been suggested. Number 14 occupies prime position, atop a hill at the end of the cul-de-sac with a sweeping drive from a shared turning circle.
Surprisingly, according to the Star Ledger, the local newspaper, it last sold for just $199,500 in 1997. For a 5,500 square foot property, this is very little, even twenty-seven years ago. The current value is estimated at $3.4 million which still sounds reasonable, given the size and provenance, even if the ostentatious style isn’t to everyone’s taste. Local property taxes are a hefty $35,000 annually though.
The owners are clearly fed up with the attention the property gets. There is a sign at the end of the drive warning off trespassers, loiterers, photographers and anyone else, it seems. So I just take a quick, discrete photo with it in the background. Not my finest photographic work…
More accessible and welcoming is Holsten’s diner in nearby Bloomfield where the famous, final scene takes place. Unlike the lyric from the Bob Seger song, the light doesn’t fade from the screen. Quite the opposite. And if you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about, you’ll just need to watch all 86, hour-long episodes, but maybe not three times as I have.
‘The’ booth has been preserved, just as it was, and the lovely waitress insists I have my coffee and BLT sat in it and have my photograph taken. I’ll be one of the last of the many thousands to do this as the booth was sold recently for $82,400 on ebay and will soon be removed as part of a refurbishment. The family are keeping the table jukebox though. Surprisingly, it doesn’t have Journey’s ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ listed, the track selected by Tony Soprano that plays out over those final moments.
Joining the New Jersey Turnpike, I subconsciously snatch the ticket out of the machine at the toll-barrier, just as Tony did at the beginning of each of the 86 episodes. Apart, from the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center, the landscape seems unchanged. The girder bridges and pylons strobe by, the industrial backdrop steams and simmers, while the airliners coming into Newark seem to hover over the freeway.
The late Jake Black (AKA The Very Reverend D. Wayne Love) of druggy Brixton, acid house combo A3, who sold the rights to the title music for a rumoured, one-off payment of $8,000, growls “Woke up this morning; got myself a gun” through my headset speakers. I think might just have to watch it all over again for a fourth time.
Last stop before getting on to Philadelphia is a difficult-to-access spot on one of the piers in Bayonne, jutting into New York harbour. I found it in the late 1990s when I wanted the angle where the Statue of Liberty was in direct alignment with the Twin Towers. Two powerful symbols of US opportunity and dominance in one 35mm photographic frame.
Like everyone else, I imagined they would always be part of that iconic skyline, but we all know what happened a few years later. At the time, I remember commentators suggesting that the world was entering a phase of instability that might last twenty-five years.
11 September 2001 was nearly a quarter of a century ago. An awful lot will need to get sorted in the next two years for that prediction to hold true.
