Irecently spent two shifts in the Cold Spring Visitor Center with Chamber of Commerce volunteers Gerry Singer and Nat Prentice.
There was a feeling of deja vu as my mind leapt back to when I answered tourists’ questions for a living. Fresh out of college, I was the first male travel information officer hired by the Ontario Ministry of Tourism. I was a very green, 21-year-old country bumpkin working in a large, all-female office in downtown Toronto.
My slightly older colleagues had a field day initiating the rookie, including calling me on the 1-800-Tourism line to grill me mercilessly about a nonexistent nudist camp near my hometown. Eventually, I understood the hoots of laughter coming from the next office.
Once my brain returned to Cold Spring, I started thinking about the village, its dual role as a community and tourist destination, and the visitor center that’s part of both.
Weekend crowds are sometimes beyond intense. I know the aggravation of being unable to find either a parking spot on my street or a seat at my local pub, the latter being more upsetting.
But here’s the thing: Whitehall, a village in Washington County, was recently named New York’s worst small town. I prefer our small village, a great place to live and nice enough that others want to visit.
Visitors did not produce any shockers for Gerry or Nat. They asked about restaurants, maps, trails, train schedules, directions, restrooms, Seastreak and how to get to the river.
How to get to the river? Seriously?
A silly question at first. But to first-time visitors unaware that the little brick structure is the entrance to a tunnel that will take them to the river, it’s a logical question. It reminded me that there are no bad questions. Like when, on one of my first trips into Manhattan, I asked how to get back to Grand Central Station — while standing at its entrance.
My strongest impression of the folks who came to the visitor center for help, and others on foot nearby, was how happy they were. Maybe it was the great weather, or finding a parking spot right away, but they were definitely a contented lot.
I’m not naive. I know the tales of how cranky tourists can be if they’re waiting in a long line outside on a chilly day, stomach growling, baby crying. But at the booth, they were demonstrably grateful for even the smallest favor: being offered a map, pointed toward a trail or told where to buy bottled water.
Younger visitors seemed more enthralled with their phones than their destination. I jokingly wondered if they were Googling photos of Cold Spring.
Others snapped photos by the dozen; some even used a camera. They shot things new to them: historic buildings, ivy-covered walls, creative signage, store windows — the things residents, including me, often overlook.
I pondered what villagers might photograph to capture their community as they see it, beyond the mandatory sunset photo?
I’d shoot a quiet, early morning Main Street, the guy zooming by on his bike with two kids on the back, Richard cutting someone’s hair at Barber and Brew, and artist George Stevenson sitting out front of Cold Spring Pizza. And dog photos.
I probably would not photograph the trolley. Three women asked Gerry about it, hopped aboard for the Beacon run and returned giddy over how much fun they had. Yet the trolley remains an enigma. As crazy-busy as recent weekends have been, it managed to stay mostly empty, confirming that it is a good idea that has yet to work.
What does work is the visitor center, and like the Philipstown community, it functions thanks to volunteers. This season, 14 local residents gave up some 300 hours from their weekends to help visitors feel welcome. They handled more than 3,500 inquiries; the number of people they helped was much greater because the vast majority of their responses benefitted a couple, a family or a small group.
While my time in the visitor center produced no startling revelations, it reinforced some familiar themes. Additional trash bins are still needed in some areas. More public restrooms, increased access to Main Street bathrooms or extra porta-johns would help.
A visitor center water fountain would be great. Strategically placed weekend food trucks could benefit residents and visitors alike. Some commonsense marketing might fill empty trolley seats.
Autumn leaves are all but gone. The number of hikers is decreasing. Seastreak has weighed anchor. The visitor center has wound down. Main Street feels different already.
Think I’ll head to a Cold Spring restaurant this weekend.
Let’s not overlook the dedication of the caring volunteers from all parts of Philipstown who provide staffing for the Cold Spring Visitor Center booth every weekend from May through November, through floods, heat waves and the cold of late fall. Organized by the all-volunteer Cold Spring Chamber of Commerce, these men and women create a warm welcome for all who visit, and often answer questions for local residents, as well. They are the kind face of the town, motivated only by love for where they live. [via Facebook]