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In a previous post, I mentioned I was very subjectively dividing the canal into zones from west to east, and I continue that here, and this post is the most personal.  Place a compass needle in the place I did kindergarten through grade 12,  and make a circle around it with a radius of about 2o miles.  All these photos were taken inside that circle.  Although I did move away from there almost 50 years ago, I’m still surprised how little I recognize.  Of course, the water perspective here is one I never had as a kid.  Start here, I’ve driven on that road .  .  . Route 31 between Macedon and Palmyra a hundred plus times, but I did feel like an amnesiac seeing it this way.

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Leaving lock 29, there were a lot of folks, but I didn’t know them.

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This is the beginning of the “spillway” I needed to cross when I walked to first grade.  The bridge–much like the one in the distance–had an open grate deck, which terrified me the first few days.

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I was happy that a friend waved from the Galloway Bridge on the westward trip and another on the eastward trip.

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Route 31, travelled many times,  lies just a hundred feet of so off the right side of the photo.

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Port Gibson, population less than 500 in 2010.  New York state must have a few dozen towns, cities, hamlets, and/or villages with “port” in the name.

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I know this farm on a drumlin well in Newark, NY.  Although the population less than 10,000, Newark is what I considered a big town.

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Beyond those trees to the right is a principal street in Newark.

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This is the port of Newark.

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Just outside Lyons, NY, population under 4000 and shrinking, awaits Grouper, subject of many posts including this recent one.

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Inside the village of Lyons . . . a mural on a wall that borders the location of the previous iterations of the canal depicts what might once have been here.

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Outside of town, these “wide ditches” are the actual “enlarged canal” of the 19th century.

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And ruins like these . . . I never knew existed even though I knew the place name “Lock Berlin.”

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Why did I never know the railroad through my world then crossed in places like this  . . .?

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I’d seen these grain bins from the road but never imagined the canal lay right behind–or “in front of” –them

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Quoth the eagle . . . you can’t go home again if you never really knew your home to begin with.

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Al photos by Will Van Dorp.  Many thanks to Bob Stopper who showed me what I should have seen a half century ago.

 

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