2 Days at Bear Mountain During a Pandemic

Last Updated on April 7, 2024 by Adam Watts

Well, friends, we survived our 2 days at Bear Mountain, but it was a close call at times.

Now I’m going to switch to present tense and act like all this is happening as I write it. It’ll be more exciting for you that way, I promise.

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We order ahead from some local favorite restaurants in Queens, restaurants we don’t ordinarily have access to without dealing with a subway ride and three and a half bus transfers. But today we have a car, so a whole world of options opens up in front of our eyes.

Really we’re preparing for an alien upstate world where everything might be closed. We don’t really know. They’re supposed to be a phase or two ahead of us in terms of reopening but who knows what that means.

So we prepare. We’re taking food with us. We have masks, we have hand sanitizer, we have a big stick with which to hit people if they come too close.

My better half’s responsibility is driving us safely to Bear Mountain. Driving an unfamiliar rental car when you don’t drive regularly isn’t the easiest task, but she succeeds admirably, with a smooth ride and no incidents. Job well done.

What should be, on paper, the easiest task in the world, is my task of safe-keeping the room keys after we check in. A toddler might try eating them or dropping them into the mud for fun, but anyone older than six shouldn’t have a problem with this.

Enter me. Let’s examine where I go wrong.

I’m given the key cards (including a spare!) and put them in my wallet. I put my wallet in my pocket. We enter the room. I empty my pockets onto the table. We leave the room. The door closes behind us.

Oh. Whoooooops.

My better half doesn’t need to say anything. One look at the door, then at me, then at the door again, and I’m on my way back to main reception, which, for context, is a half mile away at the opposite end of the lake.

And for more context, it’s pouring with rain.

At main reception, the guy doesn’t bat an eye after I explain what’s just transpired. He’s used to people like me. What’s a little concerning is that he remembers me as “room 405” but it’s actually 403 and when I correct him he just shrugs and makes a new key card. I could easily have nabbed myself a key card to another room and made off with someone else’s stuff.

I make my way back to the Stone Cottages. The rain’s eased off and swarms of mask-less families are back frolicking around barbecue pits and practicing whatever the opposite of social distancing is.

We’re in Beaver Cottage. The others have names like Echo and Spring and similar cutesy things.

Each cottage has half a dozen private rooms with a shared communal space with a fridge and microwave. It’s basically college. I wonder if we should’ve brought Post-It notes in case we have to write passive aggressive notes about stealing other people’s food.

The evening passes at leisure, cosy in our cottage; extra cosy in fact because the AC is set to polar temperatures and is impossible to change so we bundle up under blankets.

We alternate between listening to the rain outside and watching the TV struggle to bring us any entertainment of value: “if you’re experiencing inclement weather, please be patient” is the TV’s apologetic note. Mind you, the weather affecting the TV signal is saving us from endless repeats of Family Feud, so I’m not sure how apologetic it needs to be.

The next day is Monday and most of the crowds from yesterday have packed themselves off back to the city, but unfortunately those that are left are the worst kind of people.

After a gentle stroll around Hessian Lake, enjoying the serenity of nature, we sit in the shade under a tree overlooking the water, then we de-shoe and sock and enjoy the feeling of soft grass between our toes.

Then a group at a picnic table somewhere behind us starts playing music out loud, starting with “Empire State of Mind”.

🎵 Concrete jungle where dreams are made of… 🎶

🎵 There’s nothing you can’t do… 🎶

Nothing you can’t do except shut the hell up.

Fortunately, their sound is quickly drowned out.

Unfortunately, it’s replaced by a couple on a blanket who are enjoying their time in this beautiful place by blaring a Bollywood movie at max volume from their laptop.

WHY, PEOPLE, WHY?????????

We move seats. We find another tree in a quieter place and we pass a few hours in peace, playing cards, reading, and finding funny shapes in the clouds.

For dinner we order pizza from a local place (Brothers Pizza), which is deserted when we get there. It feels good to be supporting a local business during these times, and it doesn’t hurt that the pizza is also extremely yummy.

The next day comes too soon and it’s already time to head back to the city.

At the rental company, we’d checked our route up to Bear Mountain and determined we didn’t need to pay an additional $20/day for tolls. Unfortunately, it’s literally impossible to drive from Bear Mountain to Astoria, NY without paying a toll.

We know because we spent 20 minutes while eating a bagel for breakfast in the car trying to figure one out.

In the end, some bridge or other took our money. Well, technically we haven’t paid yet. We drove through it, then they’re going to charge the rental company, then the rental company is going to charge us, plus a $15 “convenience fee”. So sometime in mid-2021 we might have paid that toll. I’ll keep you updated.

Back in the city, we went grocery shopping, by which I mean my better half decided that because we have a car we should buy enough beer, soda and canned goods to see us through the next decade. What’s that phrase about realizing you can do something, but not stopping to think if you should?

And that, my friends, is our 2 days at Bear Mountain during this pandemic. Until next time, au revoir, auf wiedersehen and toodle-pip.

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