All over the little town of Ithaca, they sell an abundance of two things: Cornell-emblazoned items and "Ithaca is Gorge-ous" emblazoned items. I bought neither. Though I did buy a stack of used books, the third thing they sell in abundance, in several used bookstores and on outdoor tables in the center of town on summer days.
Ithaca is five hours northwest of New York City. I know this now, having driven there one Saturday and back the next day. I did not know this when I signed up for an Olympic-distance triathlon in Ithaca. I only found this out when I mapquested the directions the Friday before the race, about four weeks too late. Luckily, Ithaca is a town where you can get a last minute motel room, though not an inexpensive last minute hotel room. Apparently, Ithaca is a destination. And it has a lot of gorges. Or because it has a lot of gorges? And a university that is ivy league, though an ivy league where people are always unsure of its status. "Is Cornell an ivy league?" will almost always be asked at the mention of its name, as if it got in by the skin of its teeth, or because they needed one more. Close enough.
It was a dry, sunny summer Saturday when I drove up. And it was a relaxing five hours in the car, giving me plenty of time to make the phone calls I avoid making at home with too much to do or too little time before I need to do something else. With a headset and lots of highway, phone calls will be made.
Ithaca is a circular town. Or, you can drive around it in a circle, on a few different roads. It is at the bottom of the mountain where Cornell is situated, so you minutes after you pass signs that say Cornell and point up the mountain, and about a half hour after you've passed the $3 burger, fries and coke shack, you come to Ithaca.
When you are driving in a circle, what you are driving around is the center of town, a two block paved area lined with stores and a stage of some sort in the middle that is only open to pedestrian traffic. There are stores that sell the aforementioned Ithaca-branded shirts and mugs and rocks and whatnot. There's one bike store where I bought an attachment for a pump (then lost before I used it). There are two great used bookstores that made me miss living in a college town. And one Thai restaurant that may never have gotten a take-out order before I arrived, and told me it would be 45 minutes to make a tofu dish and spring rolls. It's also a college town, and if you drive outside of it, you will see the houses the college students rent. Not only will you recognize them from your college days, many will have For Rent signs, and one of them will have a tent propped open on the second floor roof.
Around the pedestrian-only area is a library (that's closed when you're desperate to use the bathroom), two modern high-rise hotels, a not-so-great sandwich shop where I shouldn't have gotten lunch, outdoor cafes, parking decks and stores that sell baggy clothing made of hemp-like material next to stores that sell crafts. And that's Ithaca. The other thing about Ithaca--you cannot cross the street without a walk sign. Even if there's no traffic for miles, and even if that walk sign has not changed in the last ten minutes, never cross against the light.
After arriving in town and getting situated, I drove out of town about 10 miles to the park where the triathlon was going to be held. This is a state park on Cayuga Lake, which is one of those lakes that's big and one you can't see all the way around standing from any given point. I had to do an easy bike ride to get ready for the race and I figured I could suss out the terrain and do an easy ride at the same time.
Driving into the park is turning off a road with farms and cornstalks and barns where they sell antique furniture and going straight downhill. Except everyone was headed to the lake and after sitting in traffic for about 10 minutes to pull up to the park ranger (who wanted $10 to park), I explained I was only coming here for the race. He was nice, said he would let me go if his boss wasn't standing behind him, and let me turn around. I parked up the hill at a lookout point (though never looked out), which meant I biked back down to the lake and had a long way to bike back uphill. Not quite the easy ride prescribed.
But the park was lovely. And the race day preparations were already being made. The transition area was cordoned off with orange mesh and the stage was being set. This was no joke, a real race. I pedaled my way out of the park and discovered that the bike would start with a steep climb and then would be the rolling hills of the Palisades variety that I loved, but with better scenery. And the lake looked calm with loads of swimmers, which meant it was warm. It was just the run to worry about, but that's always the case, and maybe always will be.
After the ride, I drove up to Cornell. It was worth taking a stroll on campus, especially on such a beautiful night. There's an amazing feeling I get walking around campus. A feeling that I'd like to do nothing but read, study and be back in school for the rest of my life, a sincere jealousy of the young students walking around, and an intense nostalgia for being in college, the friends I knew then, the days organized around reading assignments, exams and a part-time job at an independent record store. Cornell's campus is huge. Bigger than that lake. It has a map and buses to get you around. It has steeply sloped lawns that lead into other sections of campus. I covered only a small portion of it, but it was when the sun was setting and the colors were saturated and the buildings getting lost in their own shadows. A perfect time to go to college.
I headed back to my motel room to pack up for the next day, curl up in stiff motel sheets and a slippery bedspread and watch some bad television.
