'Tis the season of fresh pressed cider, pumpkins roasting on an open fire, and marathon reports from far and wide. For me, another important part of autumn is catching leaves while running. As we pass the midway point of October, colors are peaking, and leaves are falling. Soon I'll be raking, but for now I'll be catching, or at least trying to catch.
I headed to New Hamburg for a lunchtime run on the Wheeler Hill loop. It was a prettier day than had been forecast. Temperature must have been near 60, with partly sunny skies. A steady breeze should make for some vigorous leaf action.
The run starts as usual at the playground, and heads south past the train station. I cross the wide mouth of the Wappinger Creek, and head off the main road onto hilly, narrow Old Troy Road. Leaves are falling, but none are close enough to grab. On the early, flat part of Wheeler Hill Road, I see leaves falling all around me. They each take such erratic, whimsical, even unique trajectories, that there is no strategy to leaf catching. It just happens.
The run up Wheeler Hill is a half mile at most. Given all that I had heard, it is a modest climb. A Hickory leaf falls in front of me. I put my hand out, but it would take a brilliant shoestring catch to grab it. I turn onto River Road, and run through showers of Ash leaves. As small leaflets bounce off my clumsy hands, I have a vision of Renaldo Nehemiah, disguised as a San Francisco Forty-niner, showing that it takes more than speed and athleticism to catch a football.
Past the Chelsea Pump Station, I run along the railroad tracks. I can't see the river bank, but I can hear the river lapping against the shore line. I run past the marina, into the hamlet of Chelsea, and turn left away from the river. The run up from the river is less steep than Wheeler Hill or Old Troy Road, but it climbs steadily. Last time I was here, I saw a Golden Eagle. Today I just see some crows, and falling leaves. A work crew is trimming White Pines strangely short. Towards the end of this stretch, I see something too easy to miss. A large, compound Chestnut leaf is swirling in the air. This will be so easy, I'll feel a little guilty counting it. As fate (or more accurately the location of the Chestnut tree) would have it, the leaf is blowing towards state route 9-D. How will this physics problem of gravity versus air resistance versus wind velocity conclude? I reach the turn onto 9-D as the leaf blows into the road landing right in front of a speeding U-Haul truck.
As I run along 9-D, of course I stay on the road shoulder regardless of where the leaves may blow. Then it happened as it always tends to happen. Running into a stiff head-wind, a Maple leaf appears in front of me. Before I have time to think, my hands clap in front of me trapping this small yellow leaf. My first leaf of the season gets tucked safely into my key pocket. Further along 9-D, an Oak leaf sails past me. I make a more stylish one handed grab, securing leaf number two. The stretch of 9-D is not long at all, but it proved to be most productive. I turn off onto the Old State Road, and back to Wheeler Hill.
In this direction, the run up Wheeler Hill is longer, and the run down steeper. The view is a tugboat motoring up the Hudson River, a helicopter heading in the same direction, and a runner clomping downhill with two leaves in his pocket. These are not leaves a child would press between sheets of wax paper. The Maple leaf is small and has a necrotic spot. The Oak leaf is small, crispy and just plain unimpressive. I caught them. They're mine.
Leaves continue to sail around me. The end of this run is hillier than I would like, but it feels less daunting than the previous two times I've run here. I run the last hill from the train station to the playground. My time of 1:13:13 is probably the fastest I have done this run. This is more a function of a beautiful autumn day than a re-energized Steve. I can't be sure it's the fastest; I haven't been logging runs lately.
Steven Cangemi
Annandale-on-Hudson, New York