Pedestrian 19: Another Big Walk Announcement

Join me as I walk the length of Long Island, NY.

Brooklyn, NY. Fall 2021.

Ramblers, 

Welcome to another installment of Pedestrian, a newsletter for people who like to walk (...and visit the mall). As always, I’m Alex Wolfe. Big thank you to Carole, Emily, and Deirdre for making this week’s newsletter possible.

I’ll cut to the chase. On October 11th I am starting a 9 day, 150 mile walk spanning the entire length of Long Island. Starting beside the Verrazano Bridge in Brooklyn, I will end my journey facing the expansive Atlantic Ocean at the beaches of Montauk Point.

Just like my walk from Brooklyn to Philadelphia last May, I’ll send out a daily newsletter from the road each night. It will start on October 11th and end on October ~20th. You can subscribe here. 

Each night you’ll receive at least 300 words and a few photos, (although if I remember correctly, I got up to 1000 words a night during my last walk) describing things I see, emotions I feel, and maybe the pains in my hips or feet. It’s going to be awesome.

This time around I’m sharing the daily newsletters publicly so everyone can tag along. Those who support Pedestrian on Patreon will automatically be signed up for the daily newsletters, but also receive “exclusive” videos detailing what I’m packing, clips from the road, and whatever else comes to mind between now and then.

Aside from your kind notes, this work is generously supported by members of the Patreon. If you’ve enjoyed this work in the past and are excited for the future of Pedestrian, I invite you to support for as little as $5/month. No strings attached. You may cancel whenever you’d like. Sign up now.

As always, I’m eternally grateful for your support. THANKS!

Walking around Hempstead, NY. Summer 2021.

Why Walk Long Island?

Technically I have lived on Long Island for the last six years, but have spent very little time getting to know the place (most living here don’t like to admit it, but Brooklyn and Queens are, in fact, situated on Long Island).

I could spend the rest of my life walking the streets of the Big Apple, however, the longer I’ve lived here, the more I’m attracted to the many bridges and tunnels leading me outside city limits. It makes sense. To understand a metropolis, such as New York City, you’ve really got to understand the places surrounding it. 

I considered picking up where I left off in Philadelphia and continuing to Washington D.C., but something about that route didn’t feel quite right. It would be a massive undertaking and perhaps best saved for next summer. Something about walking an entire island as the leaves begin to change felt conceptually tight. Not to mention, what better point to end a walk than a place nicknamed “The End?”

Once a decision was made, diligent research soon followed in all forms. Socializing became another opportunity to test my Long Island knowledge. For the first time I am filled with enthusiasm meeting anyone who was born in Long Island or claims it as their own. Conversations move quick and typically go something like this: 

Me: “Oh, you’re from Long Island? South Shore or North Shore?”

Long Islander: “North Shore. You’re from Long Island too?”

Me: “No, but I’m going to walk the whole thing.”

Long Islander: You said what?” [confused look]

Me: “So, Suffolk or Nassau County?”

Long Island. 150 miles of walking over the course of nine days.

The longest and largest island in the contiguous United States, Long Island holds 40% of New York State’s population (8,036,232 residents according to the 2020 U.S. Census to be exact). If the island was its own state, it would rank the 13th most populous, yet in terms of land mass would rank 49th (just a hair larger than Rhode Island). Moving all those Islanders (aside from the world’s largest parking lot) is the largest commuter rail in North America – the Long Island Railroad (I’ll have nothing to do with that until it’s time to head back to Brooklyn). 

On this densely populated Island sprouted many of the small seeds that would gradually shape contemporary American life as we know it. I look forward to unpacking and making sense of these seeds in the daily newsletter.

For example, the first transatlantic flight took off from Roosevelt Airfield 2.3 miles southeast of Mineola, inevitably setting the stage for commercial air travel and an increasingly globalized world.

How about Levittown? A little over 30 miles east of Wall Street, it is widely regarded as a symbol of the American dream, the first mass-produced community, and a template for the postwar suburbs that soon permeated the country.

And of course there is the Big Duck…

Preparing for this walk feels wildly similar to crafting a story. While I’m bringing all the knowledge I gained from walking to Philadelphia, no two walks are the same. In fact, this walk will be unlike anything I’ve ever done. The towns, roads, and people I choose to speak with will inevitably serve as chapters of a larger narrative and tell a unique story that I’ve yet to hear. How would I like to tell that story?

As much as I want to control the narrative or sound like I actually know what I’m talking about, I’m ultimately at the mercy of the road and the story it’s telling me. I can look at the maps and preview images of my route on Google Street View, but I won’t actually know what I’m getting into until I have my feet on the ground.

All I can do is slow down and listen, whether that be lingering in gas station parking lots, listening to the people I meet, getting lost now and then, or even dipping my feet in the ocean. I’ll certainly be ready. There is nothing like the mental space one occupies after walking 6 to 8 hours for 9 days straight. It’s a place of high emotion, information overload, exhilaration, and heightened awareness.

I was not given the opportunity to slow down during my last big walk. En route to Philadelphia I averaged about 20 miles per day, which made it difficult to stop and smell the roses (and if I did I would certainly get back to my lodging long after the sun went down). It often felt as if I was a well-oiled machine instead of a sponge setting out to absorb the world surrounding me. This time around I’m going to do my best to keep it at 15 miles a day, although I’m at about 16.5 miles a day as it stands.

Somewhere in Hempstead, NY. Summer 2021. 

I’ve mentioned this before, but a walk of this nature is not about finding the most beautiful way to reach a destination (although there will be plenty of natural beauty to see beyond the many strip malls). I’m often asked when I’ll walk the Appalachian Trail or attempt the Pacific Crest and the answer might be never.

I don’t walk to get away from society, but to be very much consumed by society. I want to experience the increasingly alienating infrastructure we have built for ourselves at a human speed. This walk asks me to leave with an open heart, embrace the ugly, beautiful, and everything in between. It is about paying attention to things often overlooked, and if I’m lucky, maybe converse with a stranger or two. 

I can’t wait to share my walk and I hope you will join me on the roads to Montauk.

Thanks for following along and I’ll see you out there.

Signing off,
Alex
Brooklyn, NY

---

SUPPORT THIS NEWSLETTER

Do you enjoy this newsletter? Feel excited about upcoming projects? Please consider supporting this work by signing up for the Patreon. For $5/month you’ll get access to the entire Philly walk newsletter archive, digital copies of Pedestrian Magazine 1–5, and occasional supporters only updates.

If recurring subscriptions aren’t your thing, you can still send a few bucks to my Venmo (@wolfealexandert).

Don't have the funds, but still want to support? I get it. Why not share this sign up link with all your friends?

Thanks :) Your support means the world.