My family has urged me to take the Orient Point Ferry with such zeal that anyone would believe they hold stock in it. Oh it’s so fun, it’s so convenient, it shaves so much time off the trip, the kids will love it.
This past weekend, I took two Kiddos to a relative’s 90th birthday party on Long Island, and for once the ferry made sense. Despite the “help” from Google Maps (which believed I should not, in fact, take the ferry, as it tried to route me back onto I-95).
For non-New-Yorkers, the Orient Point ferry lands at Orient Point. (Difficult to believe, but true.) Orient is the town at the most eastern tip of the north fork of Long Island. Why is this Orient Point? Because the ferry lands pretty much where the land triangles off into a point, and then there’s the ocean. I’d been worried about finding Route 25 from the ferry, but as it turns out, you drive your car off the ferry and out the parking lot and it’s Route 25. When the ferry is not there, Route 25 is two hundred feet shorter.
So there we were, cruising on Route 25, with water on either side of the car, when Kiddo#2 said, “The trees don’t turn in New York State?”
I was about to say “Of course they do” when I realized yep, they were all green. In Connecticut, they’d been at peak. I wondered if maybe it wasn’t that we were further south, and then I realized no — the water was keeping the air warmer. Which made sense, because at times it was fifty feet from either side of the car.
We had to take Route 25 off the north fork out to where the Long Island Expressway began. I didn’t really factor in how long the north fork is.
It started like this: Oh, sweet little towns! Grape fields and farm stands! I wonder if Heaven is like this?
Ten minutes later: I love these little towns! So many grape fields and farm stands. Heaven is definitely like this, if you happen to like people and don’t want to live in an isolated forest the way I do.
After 45 minutes: Another farm stand? If I don’t get to a superhighway sometime soon, I’m going to lose my mind!
Apparently I’d only be okay in Heaven for about half an hour. Eventually, after one lonely sign that said “495 –>” (and was still five miles from it) I nearly shrieked to find strip malls and six paved lanes.
I took I-95 home. Sorry, ferry.