Monday, July 21, 2014

Our Time In Eden

Photo by the author.
So we've gone and done it, trading the concrete canyons and subways for gorges and rivers. We've left New York City and followed Wonderful One's academic/career ambitions two hundred and forty miles to the northwest to Ithaca, where we've been settling into the new reality of life in a small college town.

It's nice so far, if slightly slow and maybe not as culturally vibrant as I had hoped. The Commons is a construction zone. We've had lots of rain. I'm still recovering from the extraordinary stress of my first year of teaching (read: regular afternoon naps). Plus there's the usual sense of dislocation and need to set up some sense of security and comfort that comes with a new move, especially with moving in together for really the first time, especially given that neither of us are anything like 24-hour party people. But it's going mostly well. Lots of hiking, lots of walking around town, just getting a feel for this often deeply beautiful area.

I do miss some things about New York City. However, I have yet to miss the MTA. We have the Passat, which does its runabout duties with dignity and aplomb if slightly high fuel consumption. (Hills.) Wonderful One bought a bicycle, an inexpensive Raleigh which is perfect for the laid-back pace here. (Managing the 21 speeds and lack of coaster brake - she hasn't really been on a bike since a childhood on some simple Soviet-era creation - has required some practice.) I'll need something else soon as well. (Hills again. Just try getting a singlespeed up State Street.)

As far as the local vehicle scene goes, it basically fits your stereotypes of a typical Northeastern college town and then some: lots of Volvos, lots of Subarus, lots of hybrids, a spread of everything else. Not many sports cars, which is probably a reflection of both the harsh reality of winter here and some vestiges of an old Yankee modest-pragmatist mindset that still seems to exist locally. Despite having two of the most expensive colleges in America on its hills, this is in most ways a typical upstate New York town, maybe with a bit more hippie color.

It's also where I came into this world not quite forty-one years ago, which gives being here a certain charm for me.

But yeah, car culture is not a visible part of life here. Maybe a hobby thing tucked in a garage here and there, but rarely on display - something interesting or charmingly eccentric every two or three days, but this is neither a classic car mecca nor home to the kind of high rollers that ruled much of Manhattan. It's not that kind of place. Which is kind of a shame, because the roads are simply wonderful: classic two-lanes strewn through the hills like an unraveling dream. Even in the Passat they are an ongoing joy.

Watkins Glen is about twenty miles west of here. The SCCA regionals were run there the weekend after we arrived (really awful timing on my part), NASCAR weekend coming up, the vintage celebration is around Labor Day.

Have to see how the job situation works out as I pore over classifieds and assess the parking situation. Still hoping for something better suited for those back roads soon.

More to follow now that I have time for this all again, thankfully.

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Other recent notes:

Sure, I go racing and I have an existential crisis. Raphael, Bard of Baja Bugs, goes racing and he wins in his class. Life just ain't fair, man. (Dude: High-five.)

See also Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg and Mercedes in general. Lewis has always been a bit of a drama queen, but really, how does Nico make it look so easy? Although having the season's crushingly dominant car definitely helps.

Peace be with James Garner, who went from a role in a flawed but still thrilling Hollywood epic to being a serious and involved gearhead and race-team leader in the twilight of the gentlemen-racer era. By all reports he lived well. We should all be so fortunate and civilized.
Via Autoweek.

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