Right side of the tracks

Once we'd scrambled back down the ridge yesterday we were all hot, tired and thirsty. So we headed over to the nearby town of Cold Spring to visit the Depot.

This is a place the Man remembered from a previous New York existence nineteen years ago (he'd first climbed Breakneck Ridge then, too). It's a cafe/bar in an old railway depot, hard by an active track. Every fifteen minutes or so a train thunders by on its way to NYC or Albany or Montreal or Niagara.

Needless to say, the Boy thought this was very neat...





...if a little loud.