The Catskills: A Heap of Old-Fashioned Fun, Only Two Hours From New York City

Day 1: New York City to Woodstock

There's this glorious moment at the end of the Tappan Zee Bridge. Traffic magically thins as the massive stress knot of New York City starts to soften. My fiance Steve and I are desperately in need of a getaway when we set off for the Catskills. Our wedding is a month away, and we're up to our eyeballs in ridiculous family drama.

At the Saugerties Lighthouse on the Hudson River, you can stay the night in one of two romantic rooms (Robert Wright) [enlarge photo] JULY/AUGUST 2006 ISSUE • Table of Contents: July/August 2006 • Secret Hotels of the Amalfi Coast • My Shanghai Is Better Than Yours • Four Walkable Cities • Road Trip: The Catskills • Tips for Traveling With Pets • 40 Best Vacations

Tell people you're going to the Catskills and chances are at least one person will envision Jackie Mason trading one-liners with Jerry Stiller over bowls of borscht. Yes, in the '40s and '50s there were plenty of Jewish bungalow colonies. And sure, the Mel Brookses of the comedy world got their start in the region. But the Catskills have evolved since then. There may still be borscht, but it's all about the locally grown beets.

Steve and I head first to the one place we've both already visited, the legendary hippie town of Woodstock. Tinker Street, the main drag, is still the cliche we remember--tourist traps, tie-dye, and patchouli. "Is this Woodstock?" one guy shouts out his car window as he drives by. We nod. "Is this all there is to do around here?" Another nod.

One thing we find to do is eat. Elijah's is a shack of a restaurant that's blissfully devoid of dreamcatchers. We're the only two people there, other than the adorable mop-topped 3-year-old for whom the natural-food joint is named. Elijah's dad, Curt Robair, is the chef, and he chats us up, making oddly unfunny cracks like "I ran out of lettuce!" At least I think they're supposed to be cracks, because he's laughing. No matter. His refreshing watermelon lime cooler and portobello mushroom sandwich do just fine without the greens.

We spend the night at the Twin Gables Guest Home, a Woodstock fixture. Our street-level room is comfortably nondescript, but we're surprised to find rigid instructions everywhere. At the door, a bold sign instructs us to only ring once. Where's that hippie love when you want it?

Lodging

Food

Day 2: Woodstock to Saugerties

Five minutes outside of Woodstock, the Overlook Mountain Trail is a popular five-mile hike leading to the concrete ruins of an old hotel. (The scenic Rock City Road, which turns into Meads Mt. Road, winds up to the trailhead and is worth the trip by itself.) The beginning is relatively steep, but we're doing just fine. It doesn't take long, however, until we're humbled; walkers 30 years younger--and 30 years older--are breathing less heavily.