The end

WEEK 1

I can think of no better way to start my 52×52 blog than travelling to a new place. “The End” refers to Montauk, the Easternmost part of Long Island, a place I had romanticized. I love the edges of things.

For years and years, I’d been flying to New York for work, landing at JFK and heading into the city. I never thought about Long Island. I had a vague sense of points east like The Hamptons but no relationship with the broader topography.

When my wife, Irena, and I moved to Manhattan, friends would talk about Fire Island, Sag Harbor, Shelter Island. We read articles about wineries and farms, beaches and wind-swept state parks. Now, five years later, it’s time to rent a car and venture east.

It turns out that about 90 miles from Manhattan, Long Island splits into a North Fork and South Fork. Much to our surprise: Between those two forks—and accessed only by ferry—is Shelter Island in the Peconic Bay. (Before this trip, I would have bet money that Shelter Island was floating in the Atlantic.)

The first “first” of the trip was underwhelming—a spot on the highway that marked the farthest east we’d been on Long Island.

The second first was achieving a three-island day—1) waking in our island home of Manhattan; 2) driving the full length of Long Island to Orient Point; and 3) ferrying to overnight on Shelter Island.

My boldest first was swimming in the Atlantic Ocean in Montauk on my birthday. With a water temp of maybe 52 degrees, I managed three pathetic strokes out to sea before my legs turned to bricks. It was worth it for the high-five from the lifeguard.

My favorite first was the walking dunes in Hither Hills State Park near Montauk. I loved the poetry of this place. Giant mounds of sand reaching up to 80 feet are forever shifting their location, “walking” more than three feet a year as a relentless wind blows across the Napeague Bay.

As I climbed the dunes, I passed phantom forests, where the wispy tufts of foliage peeking out of the sand were once treetops. I sat for some time in a wind tunnel littered with acorn seeds.

What a rare place to be, alone, witnessing evolution in real time.