The S-Factor: Syracuse & Saratoga Springs

This week it was planes, trains and automobiles. A bit nerve-wracking, actually, because I haven't driven a car in 3 or 4 years - and here I was renting one for 3 or 4 hours of driving in a 24-hour period. In an April snow/slush/sleet/rainstorm, no less. But all went well. It's just like learning to ride a bike, or something, except it hurts more if you fall off.

People were remarkably friendly in Syracuse - not only my colleagues (who might be expected to be collegial), but also folks at the Dinosaur BBQ, and at a local branch of a national car rental establishment.

Syracuse also features a remarkably unphotogenic "Clinton Square." I understand that it was not named for our former president, nor for his presidential-aspirant wife, nor for the town in New Jersey. I liked the bleakness of the square from this perspective:


Saratoga Springs was a lot more beautiful, especially because I spent some time wandering around the State Park. Despite the occasional packs of joggers and the occasional Francophone tourist family, I got the strong sense that I was there in the off season.

I followed a sign for the Saratoga Tree Nursery, which is apparently run by the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation. That sounded like a nice place to go, but the entrance had a big metal bar blocking vehicular traffic, and I saw a bunch of small yellow signs forbidding something. At first I thought they were "No Trespassing" signs, but on closer inspection they were "No Skiing" signs. So I went in. Let me tell you, I wasn't even tempted to try skiing in there.


Not only did I not see any snow, but I also didn't see any indication that trees were being conserved (or even nursed) in the Tree Nursery. In fact, the place looked a bit abandoned, with a few fields of vegetables that looked like they had been chopped down by a tractor, two unmanned gas pumps, and an old barn.

Toward the back, as I approached the golf course (also oddly empty; too bad I'm not a golfer), there was a nice-looking house, with a side door yawning open to beckon me into its unlit interior.


If it had been a movie, instead of real life, I would have gone in despite the ominous music on the soundtrack, and there encountered either a psychopath or some supernatural force to be reckoned with. As it was, I didn't find that open door particularly inviting.

I also wandered up to some of the mineral springs - the one I tested was ice cold, which may explain why the bath officials have been adding warm tap water to the natural spring water. I particularly liked this island spouter:

It is totally fake-looking (especially the built-up part around the actual jet), but apparently it at least began spouting all on its own through natural cracks or fissures in the island.

The belated April Fool's joke, of course, was the lovely snowfall in the morning. Nice snowdrift right outside my window. Maybe those "No Skiing Allowed" signs meant something after all?

Nah - too slushy anyway.