Some time back in the 90's, a friend with considerably bigger balls than I kept continually goading me into joining him on an illicit adventure over the barbed wire and onto the invariably precarious environs of the then still-untamed High Line. It had captivated our imaginations for years -- an abandoned strip of elevated railway overgrown with flora (and, quite possibly, fauna) that snaked through the western edge of Manhattan. "Think of the photographic potential," my friend enthused. Still, I demurred. I was, of course, afraid of getting busted for trespassing or stumbling into a clandestine drug deal or encountering some mutant species of grass-fed super rodent or _________ (insert lilly-livered excuse here). My friend did, however, complete that mission one day, and brought back some striking photographs of same. I was immediately jealous and chastised myself for my abject lameness, vowing to join him on the next sortie over that wire.
That never happened, of course. In short order, the renovation of the High Line into an ambitiously expansive public park became a celebrated cause and in due course, a portion of it was opened to the public amid much fanfare. I was naturally curious to check it out, but still deeply regretted never experiencing it in its raw incarnation of stately urban decrepitude. Months passed. I never got over there. I bristled at reports of the voyeuristic glass hotel and ruthless street art removal that accompanied the High Line's unveiling. Finally, this past weekend, Peg and I decided to take the kids out for a stroll to finally check out the new High Line. Below are some of the pictures I took (click on them to enlarge). It was fun to watch my little ones run around up there (Oliver especially loves anything associated with trains). Not sure how I feel about it otherwise, but it was nice to finally survey the surroundings from a new vantage point.
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