The Kaaterskill Clove

I owned a vacation cottage in Twilight Park, in New York's Catskill Mountains, for 25 years.  The Victorian house, the Park, and the mountains will always be very special for my sons and me. This Thomas Cole painting is the view down the clove from the falls at the entrance to the park. 

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cole_Thomas_The_Clove_Catskills_1827.jpg

The Short Life of Twilight's Junior Hell's Angels

One morning I visited twin Carol and her family in Huntington, Long Island.  In the afternoon her boys and my oldest two could think of no more sports to play.  Got plain bored!  What could they do, I pondered. 

Well, I had a motorcycle; seemed like I had always had one.  Hmmm; boys and motorcycles? No, too big.  Hmmm; boys and minibikes? Yes!  In a jiffy, brother-in-law Buz and I climbed in the car and drove to the Honda cycle shop.  A tough-looking Honda 70 stood there, raring to go.  All right! Only $375! Gotta have it!

The dealer wouldn't take a check.  We went to the liquor store, whose owner Buz knew well.  I gave him a check and got the cash.  Soon the four boys were no longer bored.  I don't think the bike stood motionless the rest of the three-day weekend.

Subsequently, I took the bike to Twilight.  My boys had a ball riding it on the former park golf course where they created trails and even jumps off the former 1^st Tee.  My two oldest were twelve and fourteen.  There were eight other boys that age in the park and they soon lusted for that bike.  Before you knew it, there were another half dozen minibikes in the park.

Now as a single father, I suppose I was more lenient than others.  Plus I had a bike of my own down in the city. I guess you could say I was pro-active.  Our house soon became park motorbike headquarters and service center.  There were bikes in the yard, on the porch, even inside the house.  I urged the boys to ride carefully and ride mainly down on the old golf course, which no adults went to or cared about.

But boys being boys, all but mine were soon riding the roads on all three levels of the park. Oh,Oh! Up-tight park folks and most of those without boys, hated the noise and exhaust fumes as bikes cruised all over.  But there was nothing they could do; these were private roads so driving licenses, etc., weren't required.

Then one day Russell went and blew it.  Blew it for himself, and for all the others.  Young Sally Crimshaw was picking berries on the old golf course and Russell couldn't resist buzzing her – not just once, but two times!  It scared the heck out of her.  Of course she ran home to tell her mother. Oh, oh! Then her mother complained to Emily Fisher.  Emily was park president!   Oh, no!  Here comes big trouble!

Emily drafted a NEW RULE: that henceforth motorbikes, motorcycles, motor-driven anythings, be banned from the park unless they were registered and driven by licensed operators.  Emily presented her rule at the next Cottagers Meeting and it passed without a whimper of opposition.  

Twilight's junior Hell's Angels were no more.

Accident on 23A

In serpentine fashion, NY route 23A climbs along the Catskill Clove's often perpendicular north wall to the plateau at the crest.  The entrance road to Twilight Park lies there on the left.  It was a Friday night and I was about to conclude the customary trip from New York City to Twilight with my grandson Nikolai and stepson Matt.

Still climbing, we rounded the last bend when I saw a car sideways across the right lane, its nose smooshed into the verticle rock face.  Accident!  I swung around the car and pulled over.  "Stay inside!" I shouted to the kids, as I grabbed a flash light from the glove compartment.
  
I ran back toward the car.  Steam spouted out from under the hood.  I smelled coolant.  I heard crackling noises from the engine compartment, and caught the flicker of flames.  Must be an electrical fire.  If the fuel line was fractured, it could be only seconds before the entire car went up.

Shining the light inside the open window, I saw a man slumped over the wheel, unconscious.  I saw green beer cans on the floor in front of the passenger's seat. I thought for a moment.  If he had spinal damage, I could  exacerbate it by moving him.  But if I left him there, he could burn to death.
 

With strength I didn't know I possessed, I pulled him through the window.  I dragged him a safe distance from the car.  I quickly examined his body.  Other than a large bloody swelling on his forehead, I found no bleeding.  Then I heard  a loud "whoosh" and looked up to see the entire car in flames.

In a few minutes, a fire engine and ambulance arrived, probably summoned by a Twilight resident, as park homes were perched on the cliffs directly opposite the accident scene.

The necessary help had arrived.  I climbed back in our car, thanked the boys for being such good soldiers, and drove on to Twilight.



Editor's note: My grandson Nikolai just called to say he read this post and vividly remembered that night.  He helped me recall the details, for which I am grateful.