Travels With Stu

I went to work Friday at Scholastic for the second time during the week and thought that since Scholastic wants me back for now, I’m making some money and I could spend some of it during the MLK weekend. I met up with Jess last night after work and I spent most of the evening with her…shadowing her during her shopping spree, helping her munch on some cookies and bread from the Sullivan Street Bakery and the bakery next door to it, and then eventually making our way to the Lower East Side to eat at “The Humus Place.” I had a lot of fun and some how during my time with Jess I convinced myself that I was going to take full advantage of my 3-day weekend and take the road trip I’d been yearning to take for the past few months. I headed back to my mom’s apartment, grabbed my stuff and arrived back in Syosset around 1AM and then took a Syosset cab back to my house which cost a ridiculous $7 plus tip for the three mile trip.

I woke up this morning at 7 with only one thing on my mind…Saratoga Springs. “Why do you drive around New York? Why don’t you go somewhere cool, or interesting? Why do you do this, and not that?” I’m always asked by my friends, but not nearly as much by my family. It’s interesting that my mom just accepts my trips as, “that’s Stu being Stu,” and never questions my motives or anything when it comes to my traveling. It’s incredible, because she’s the only person I know in NY who doesn’t verbally tell me that she thinks my road trips are nuts. I really appreciate that.

Anyways…I was up at the crack of dawn and threw together a weekend suitcase, said good-bye to my sister who was returning to school, and was ready to go until my mom came outside with a screwdriver….

“Mom, what the heck are you doing?” I asked as I was about to start the car. “I have a long drive, and this is taking away valuable time.”

“Your license plate is falling off the car…you want to get a ticket?,” she responded, as I ran inside to make sure I had everything I needed.

I hopped back in the car…with it’s new transmission, said good-bye to my mom and was on the road. The drive from Syo to Saratoga Springs is 210 miles…that’s not a short distance for a weekend road trip, and that was the closest location I was planning on visiting during the trip. I had no problems with traffic and arrived in Saratoga Springs at 1130. The only interesting thing about the drive was that when I passed Albany I barely noticed it from the highway, and this was totally surreal for some reason. I loved Albany and walking around its streets and parks. It was a formidable city, and the highway made the impressive SUNY Albany building look pathetic, and the city didn’t seem to exist. I was totally shocked how Albany looked less impressive than Indianapolis or Columbus from the highway, and I thought Albany was really impressive. This thought lasted a millisecond as I averaged 75mph to Saratoga Springs.

I plugged in the Racehorse Hall Of Fame in my GPS system and arrived around 1130 to an empty parking lot. Something in my stomach dropped as I feared for the worst…Upstate New York would be closed during the Winter/MLK weekend.

“Sir?” I hopped out of my car and jogged over to an older man exiting the building, “Is the museum open?”

“Yep, sure is,” the man responded with a twang that seemed more Southern that Eastern. I hesitated a little, and walked into the museum with high hopes.

My background and interest in horse racing is this: I’ve never watched a horse race in my life, nor on TV, nor have I ever bet on a race or been in an environment with people who enjoy watching horse races. My entire knowledge of horse-racing is a blotchy combination of my greyhound dog-racing experiences in Florida during my childhood, and “Seabiscuit” the movie. That’s about it…

It was kind of similar to when I stopped by Daytona and went on the Daytona 500 racetrack tour after NEVER watching one race. I guess the rationale to going was, “Why not? Could be fun.” I must have looked completely disheveled or young or both, because the 70-year-old woman rang me up for a Student ticket after I said “how much?” $5 didn’t seem like a steep price to pay for a museum I probably had very little interest in seeing, but I thought I could learn something and it would help me get in the mood for Saratoga Springs.

When I was younger I used to think to myself - “I wonder what type of people actually go to these weird museums during the weekend or on random days that make no sense for people to go museums? Don’t they have better things to do with their life? This museum must be empty most of the time” was how I would approach the sights that were created for a very particular niche. It’s kind of strange that I’ve become that “guy” who goes to the “Horse Racing Hall of Fame” for no other reason then to just go and hope for a good time. I’m that “guy” I thought about when I was younger. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that.

Anyways, the museum had its moments, but the most intriguing part was how the lights were run by motion sensors. The museum galleries were basically in darkness until I walked to them when rooms and displays would light up in an instant and everything became clear. I was very impressed with this and thought it was strange that it was the only museum I’d ever been in with this feature…that is strange because I’ve been in a bunch. I watched a movie on horse racing and learned some stuff about Seabiscuit and made my way through the rest of the museum and was about to wish the only other 2 people in the building farewell but somehow I said something totally different.

“I didn’t see the Seabiscuit trophy or his trainer’s equipment. Do you know what room I can find that in?” I asked the woman behind the desk. If I had known that this question was going to extend my visit by 45 minutes I would have never asked it, but I was then lead back into the museum and the woman couldn’t find it. I pretended to look for the trophy but had no idea what I was looking for, but to save face I pretended to act serious.

I was somewhat shocked that the woman was seriously disgusted that the trophy wasn’t being displayed. She went from being peppy and cheerful to angry and I didn’t know what to do. I felt as if I was in this for the long haul, and followed the woman through the museum when it was decided that Seabiscuit’s trophy was definitely not on display and someone was going to deal with this woman’s wrath at some point. I didn’t want to be that unfortunate victim so I tried to exit, but was stopped by the man behind the desk who offered to give me two free tickets for my trouble.

“For my trouble?” I thought to myself. What was he talking about.

“Because we didn’t have the trophy, I want you to know that you can come back with a friend (he grabbed two free museum admissions) any time you want. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience.”

I thanked the man and put the tickets in my murse. “By the way, do you want me to take your photo near Seabiscuit?,” he asked me as I finished packing my tickets.

“Sure, sounds good,” I reluctantly accepted his offer after seeing that it was almost 1PM and I still had a ton to see before the end of the day. He took my picture which came out ok, and told me that I should walk over to the racetrack. I headed to the race track thinking it could be of interest but was stopped short of the track by a gate. It was very cold outside and I didn’t have my winter clothes (hat/gloves/coat) on because I was planning on just seeing the museum and jogged back to my car.

I was starving and headed into downtown Saratoga Springs and ate at Bailey’s Cafe which was a couple blocks off the main drag. Bailey’s wasn’t so much a cafe as much as it was a sports bar, but this was satisfactory for my hunger and as I ordered a buffalo chicken sandwich and watched the football game on TV for lunch. Eating solo during my trips aren’t ever a problem for me any longer. It was more depressing eating in Europe at a McDonald’s when I would get a sandwich off the euro menu because I despised the food and was trying to save some money. However, I’ve tried to turn my eating experiences into cultural experiences and have decided to spend a few extra bucks or pounds or euros to get a more enriching meal lately. It’s interesting how many “American” restaurants are either diners or sports-bar places, but I’m a fan of both, but I do miss the European cafes.

So I ate my meal, didn’t get much reading done, paid the tab and walked towards downtown. Downtown Saratoga Springs is actually somewhat impressive for a town/city so far north of NYC. It reminded me of a much larger Ohio town I’d drive by during my Ohio road trips. Saratoga had a Borders and a Starbucks, a church, real estate and insurance companies, a baseball card shop and some very large and grande hotels. Along the sidewalks were molds of horses which was cool, but I was upset that I couldn’t get a pic of me sitting on a horse…one problem of traveling solo…limited picture opportunities with yourself in the photo. So I roamed the streets of Saratoga for about 30 minutes before making my way back to my car and heading towards the Lincoln Baths where I was yearning for a massage. Saratoga Springs is known mostly for its natural springs and I thought it was essential to experience the natural springs, so I headed towards the Spa…a very large park in Saratoga. On my drive towards the Spa I saw “The Crystal Spa” and quickly pulled into its driving lot, with high hopes of signing up for a massage.

The post-college life is extremely stressful in so many ways, and this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but even though I’ve been a college grad for eight months, the new post-college life continues to surprise me every day. I had been somewhat stressed out because of my new job responsibilities, but more importantly, due to my uncertainty of what I was doing with my life, and if I was doing what I really wanted to do. It had been about three weeks since my Puerto Rico trip and during that time my life seemed somewhat crazy.

Once I got back from Puerto Rico I knew that Scholastic had already thanked me for my time in the office, my internship at Time Out was up in the air because I didn’t think much of it, I was waiting to hear back about my editorial internship application at Time Out and I really wasn’t sure what direction my life was heading in. Somehow in the span of a week and a half after returning from Puerto Rico and starting 2008 I had met a woman, was balancing two internships at Time Out, was writing articles for “Junior Scholastic” and was back working in the Scholastic office as an Online Editorial Assistant. Things were going relatively well in my little life, but that didn’t mean that life wasn’t somewhat stressful.

I drove into the spa and was immediately lost. I saw a large sign for the “Lincoln Baths” but the building had no access which was strange, and then I tried following street signs but wasn’t really sure what I was looking for, and then about 30 minutes later stumbled upon the Baths and parked my car and ran in hoping that it wasn’t too late to get a massage. I just wanted to have a massage and the thought of not having one seemed really sad, so I crossed my fingers and went into the office.

“Hi, can I get a massage?” I asked with a huge smile on my face, hoping for the best.

“No, sir. There aren’t any appointments left for today,” a woman in a white uniform responded.

“Really? There isn’t any way you can squeeze me in. I’m only in town for a day, and I won’t be around tomorrow,” I told the woman hoping this would help me out.

“Well, you can get a facial at 4:45 if you want.”

I had no idea what a facial was but it seemed like it was too closely related to a very terrible and traumatizing sexual experience so I thanked the woman and walked a few feet away from the desk thinking what I was going to do. My trip to Saratoga wouldn’t be complete without a massage I was telling myself, and there had to be a way to get one by nightfall…the only thing I could think about doing was asking again.

“So, you’re sure you have nothing available?” I tried my luck with the other woman sitting behind the desk.

“Actually, we have a massage opening at 5:30. Would you like me to sign you up?” the other woman told me as my jaw dropped a few inches and I wondered if these people were trying to drive me crazy and were playing a prank on me or if I had just got really lucky. I signed up for the massage and saw that I still had a couple hours until the massage and headed back to my car and drove to another park a few minutes away to see “Yaddo” a private retreat where artists and writers have gone to over the years. I parked my car in some random lot and saw some footsteps in the snow and decided to follow them and hope for the best. There were some very large mansions in the area which were really beautiful, but I eventually made my way over to the “gardens” if that’s what they’re called in the middle of the winter. It was more like…lots of snow covering the areas where beautiful trees and plants grow and an fountain that is turned off. Regardless, I still thought it was somewhat pleasant and definitely serene as I walked around the property for a half an hour before making my way back to my car and returning to the Spa.

The Spa itself was humongous and extremely gorgeous, even in the winter. When you enter the spa, you drive along tree-lined streets and your surrounded by nature…and in the winter, snow. I parked my car nearby the baths and started walking. I only had my sneakers so I didn’t want to go to deep into the woods because I didn’t want to get my feet too wet, so I walked around the park passing by the spa’s buildings which were either administrative or for massages, but were aesthetically pleasing, and then walked along a frozen pond where families were ice-skating. I thought it was wonderful to see so many happy people skating away or falling or doing both as I crossed the lake and tried to remember when I last went ice skating…it had been too long. I walked through the park examining the different buildings and walked along the tree-lined road I drove down when I entered before taking off into a random “field” of snow and walking around making my way back towards the baths. On my way back I saw a handful of people gathered in an area and decided to see what was going on. As I got closer to the small crowd I saw they were each filling up bottles, or jugs with water from the springs. I thought this was neat and felt foolish for not carrying a water bottle but still got to taste the water by lowering my mouth under the fountain. The water was cold and it tasted like…water. There was a distilled water fountain as well which definitely tasted different and I wasn’t as big a fan of.

I hurried back to the baths because the light was leaving and it was getting much colder outside and my appointment was coming up. I was handed a sheet to fill out before my massage and was told to go to the reception area to fill everything out. I was in the room with four women, each of whom was at least 50 years old. I’m not sure how many 22 year old guys go in for massages…I usually don’t, but thought that I might as well enjoy this rare experience. I filled out the form, grabbed a tea and an apple and a few minutes later was greeted by a man who asked if I was Stuart. I guess I’ve had around 15 massages in my life…with around 8 done in SE Asia, and I prefer having a woman give me a massage because I don’t want a guy touching me, however, men are usually stronger and I usually need a deep massage, so I don’t know what to do. I guess hope for a very strong and attractive woman to give me a massage. Maybe next time.

The massage itself was extremely relaxing and I paid the fee and gave my tip and headed back to my car feeling alive and like a new man. My next challenge: finding a place to stay for the night. I left the spa and made my way back to the highway because LP said that my best bet’s for a cheap motel was between two exits off the highway, so I spent the next hour or so price-checking motels and finally decided on a room for $45 which included a bed, a bathroom, a TV and that’s about it…my type of place. I hopped back in my car and made my way back to downtown Saratoga Springs for dinner and a night on the town. I ate at a place called Hattie’s that ironically specialized in Southern food but the food was great and I had a ton of it for a reasonable price before I hit the streets of Saratoga once again looking for some night life.

Saratoga’s not that small, but it’s small enough that you can hear where the night life takes place on Saturday night by walking a few minutes in either direction. I checked out a few bars and clubs and nothing sparked my interest until I heard some rock music blaring from one club. I entered, saw there was a live band playing classic rock, placed my coat down and danced the night away. I was dead tired at 1 when I left and made my way back to my motel room.