Well, here we are at West Point, parked at the North Dock on the Hudson River looking north up towards Newburgh. The river at this point is, according to some knowledgeable folks, the only fiord in North America. The banks are steep and high and the river is deep (350 feet). It is still tidal up here, fifty miles from the ocean. The storm surge from Irene flooded the lot in which we are currently parked. On one of our dog walks we saw debris deposited at a high water mark several feet above the level at which we are parked.
During most of the afternoon a helicopter landed at a nearby landing pad and picked up a half dozen sky divers who dropped onto the plain (parade ground). The chopper must have made eight trips.
Our trip down from Foxboro was uneventful. We stopped in Stonington and visited two different groups. Bonnie and Carl Banks came over to clean up some business that resulted from the Cloutier reunion. We also wanted to visit Skip and Donna Anderson, some Maine camping buddies. We visited with Skip, but Donna was on her way back from Maine where she was attending to her mother.
We got set up here by two, so we had time to make an excursion to the Association of Graduates where I had some modest business to attend to, and Durelle found a cross stitch while I picked up a stemless wine glass with a West Point crest.
I have a few pictures (all of which were taken from a lawn chair with a martini in close proximity) taken on the Hudson plus a shot of the "skydiver express".
Tomorrow promises some rain. I sure would like to see Army beat Tulane.