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A few of my writing notes on the town of New Paltz, New York.

Two hours north of New York City hides a village with cosmopolitan aspirations as great as the Gotham city itself. On the map New Paltz is noteworthy only as the closest exit to Poughkeepsie on the Thruway and the home of a McDonalds on the drive north to Albany. Despite its outward obscurity, it’s single crowded main street could be called the home of humanity. A college town, academic and optimistic. A hippie enclave, anachronistic, spiritual, lethargic. A farmtown, simple, peaceful, quiet, dull. An art community, pretentious, educated, cultured. A single street, as old as America and then some, is home to all the world and a population barely over 12,000. We don’t even have a Subway.

What a small, rainy little town. A few intersections and you’ve run yourself right out the gate. Corralled between a bridge, a school, and a highway, a handful of small-town bars, tourist-trap new age stories, and a dozen pizza places carve out a living, mostly at the largesse of the resident college population. Summertime restores the recession and colonial charm, at least until the weekend when the town again overflows with gawkers and tourists looking for the charm their own towns sold to Walmart decades ago.

I nearly ran drove into a cluster of wobbly pedestrians at the crossroad of 32 and 299. Friday and Saturday night bring out the town. These students wander about lackadaisical, tired, often inenbriated, and with a bad habit of crossing against the walk-signs. It doesn’t help that my destination is the same parking lot shared by the local frat houses and that Friday night always features a beer pong tournament in my spot. Hrmph.

From the lookout at the top of Minniwaska and the Mohonk range you can see Hudson Valley as a patchwork of farms and forest. A quick jaunt down the roller-coaster inspired Highway 44/55 leads to a well-regarded German restaurant. A left turn from there connects to Highway 299 which, after a charming vignette of pumpkin patches, apple orchards, and corn fields, becomes the main street of New Paltz, a small college town featuring the charm of a vibrant artist community and the convenience of Thruway 87 (North to Albany, South to Newburgh, Harriman, and New York City).
Water Street Market, a cosmopolite collection of shops featuring jewelry, clothing, a cheese shop, and a quaint upstairs restaurant can be found immediately upon entering New Paltz. Beyond that the shops on either side of the town center are especially entertaining. Especially noteworthy are The Gilded Otter, a restaurant that brews its own beer, The Bistro, a highly regarded stop for breakfast and lunch, P&Gs, a local sports bar loved by college students and locals alike, and, much farther down the road, Rocco’s Pizza which is a national treasure.

The snow becomes sludge at the end of the sidewalk. The wind blows down from the mountains with little care that my jacket has holes, my gloves are covered in frost, and my boots are sitting in the trash four miles back. What a wretched state of affairs this little Podunk hick-town is. It’s only saving grace is a pizza place every 50 feet and a few good bars.

Any visit to New Paltz requires at least a casual tour of the Campus. SUNY New Paltz, a liberal arts college of approximately 6,000 undergraduate and 2,000 graduate students. Voted hottest small state school by 2008 Kaplan/Newsweek, it well-regarded especially for students pursuing careers in teaching and education. Also noteworthy is the Samuel Dorsky Museum of Art which hosts a vibrant collection of photography and world art.