Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Day 126-East Brunswick to Atlantic Highlands (22 Miles)

I started the day with a pack of Pop-Tarts before checking out of Motel 6 and hitting the road for my last real day of running. I wanted to get done somewhat early in the day in the off-chance that I could catch a ferry to New York City for the evening. After running through a maze of side roads and busier state highways, I eventually got to the head of the Henry Hudson bike trail. This trail pretty much marked the end of running where I had to share the same piece of pavement with a car.

A few miles into the bike path, there was a break in the trees that had continuously lined the trail. To the south there was extensive home re-buildings, most likely from the devastation of Hurricane Sandy. To the north was where the picture below was taken. It's hard to describe that sight, but I savored it at nearby park bench for quite some time. The last few miles into the Leonardo Motel-by far the sketchiest motel of the trip-flew by.

Without wasting much time, I walked 2 miles to the SeaStreak ferry to catch the 5 pm boat into New York. The ride was about an hour long and cost me $45, but there was no way I was going to run this far and not go into the heart of the city. Waiting to board, I struck up a conversation with Glenn, an avid Civil War reenactor going to visit his girlfriend who was in town for the holiday with an elaborate costume. He gave me the advice to walk from the northern ferry stop and catch the returning boat further south.

Walking from 35th St up to Times Square, across half of the Brooklyn Bridge, and then down to Wall Street to Pier 11 was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. During these four hours I probably saw more people than I had seen in the past four months combined. The fact that at least half of them were dressed up for Halloween added to it all.

Back at 10 pm at Pier 11, I met back up with Glenn and took the last ferry from New York back to Jersey. Him buying me a candy bar on the boat and driving me back to the motel would be the last acts of kindness I received from people who had once been strangers.

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