The Kaatskill Mountains

He used to tell his story to every stranger that arrived at Mr. Doolittle’s hotel. It’s no wonder Rip Van Winkle’s name is so legendary in these parts, these Kaatskill mountains. To everyone here though, his story is just that, a fable of fiction no more real than any other American tall tale.1

Then again its not like every other tall tale, or I wouldn’t have take the time to travel all the way to the east coast followed by a long, albeit scenic, trip up the Hudson. The difference is the story takes place in a Dutch settlement and being half Dutch myself, the story always stuck out a little bit.2

That’s why when my film teacher said he was looking for a fresh new movie with an original story line, I thought why not copy from a classic. He loved the idea.3

The next thing I knew, my teacher was pitching my idea to some producer in California and I am getting a call in the middle of my English class asking me to spout out all of my ideas for the movie. Of course I had none, so I made them up off the top of my head. They didn’t like my idea for Rosie O’Donnell as Rip’s wife, but when I said we could scout for some locals in the area and use an all original cast, they jumped all over the idea. The meeting was a success according to my teacher and all was well until he asked when I could be ready by.4

“Be ready for what?”5

“They are sending you out to New York to scout locations and cast members for the movie.”6

“But I don’t know anything about any of that. Why not send a professional?”7

“Well its your project. And besides, the studio is going to fund it all and after you set up they are going to send a casting director up there for final cuts. They just want you to go up there and film some home movies for possible locations and get people interested in auditioning. It should be a walk in the park.”8

At first I continued to protest, but now here I am, freezing my butt off the weekend before finals and I’m lugging not only my luggage, but two huge black cases of film equipment off of a boat onto an old, rotting, wood dock. The beauty and mystery of the mountains is soaking in as the sun descends towards the peaks when the boat speeds off leaving me all alone. Naturally, I freak out. The dark forest becomes a harbor for dangerous things when moments before it was just beautiful landscape. Remembering the itinerary the studio made for me, I reach for my pack.9

Amongst flight times, terminals, company names, and detailed time tables, the paper reads, “After the boat ride, transport has been arranged into town.” Talk about ominous. There’s no cab name, pick up time or e.t.a. Just me alone at dusk, half ready to break out the film equipment and make my own Blair Witch Project. That’s how bad I am freaking out right now.10

I tell myself I’ll give myself it fifteen minutes before I call the studio number at the top of the itinerary and complain, but when I pull out my cell to check the time I notice I have no signal. This is the point where I start swearing.11

As if the situation isn’t bad enough, I finish my rant of curses and just above the rushing Hudson I hear a noise trailing off.12

“Tell me that wasn’t someone crying.” I listen for a while before I pick up on the roaring of the river. Somehow, it is getting louder, more rhythmic. Then the cry comes again, only its not a human cry. It’s more like a… like a horse!13

Coming up the dirt path in front of me is a carriage drawn by two horses, their hooves pounding the earth in succession. This is the noise I had mistaken for the river. As it nears, I notice a driver sitting on the front of the carriage in a dark brown coat. My wave of panic is over and I feel ridiculous for letting my thoughts get the best of me. This feeling doesn’t last long however. As the cart slows in front of me I realize that my transportation has arrived. This feeling is disappointment.14

“You must be Mr. Van Wallene.” The driver drops to the ground.15

“That’s me.”16

“I’m Van Milligan,” he says as he approaches.17

“It’s nice to meet you.” I rise to shake his hand. He simply steps past me and starts moving the luggage. Quickly he positions all of my belongings onto the cart and secures them, the while ignoring my very presence. I try to mention the business about the movie, but he doesn’t pay any interest. He boards the cart and motions for me to do the same.18

This is how the trip is; silent. The ride is long as we travel around the base of the Kaatskill mountains. The sun finally sets behind the peaks and the long shadows grow into night. I keep checking my phone for signal with no avail. I’m lost in the glowing screen when the driver breaks the silence.19

“There’s the town ahead.”20

I peel my eyes from the phone and at first all I see is darkness. Then as my eyes adjust to the dark I can make out lights from behind four paned windows. Several single story buildings come into view as we emerge from the forest. I strain my eyes and make out the light’s source; lamps or more importantly, bulbs. After the horse and buggy, I half expected candles. Electricity is good. Electricity means heat and after today all I want is a nice warm bed.21

As if reading my mind, the driver turns to me and says, ”You’ll be staying at the hotel.”22

“Mr. Doolittle’s hotel?”23

The driver doesn’t answer. Leaving it to my own imagination, I can just picture Doolittle’s ancestors still running the family hotel. Then I remember the entire thing is just a story.24

We pull up outside the hotel and the driver coordinates with the bellboy in moving my things from the cart to my bedroom. I’m notified that everything is taken care of and I can go straight to my room. Of course, I do just that. The room is nice and the bed is warm. I only meant to test it, but moments later its comfort cradles me to sleep.25

After waking up and getting ready the next morning, I go around the small town and hang up the lists of the characters that need casting. Some people inquire about my business, but most just stare at me and walk past. By midday I am done. I am excited that the day is going well enough because it is just bringing me closer to going home.26

The next thing on my itinerary is to film spots that can be used. Before I can make it back to my hotel room I am stopped.27

“Are you the one down for the movie?”28

“Yeah that’s me. My name’s Jesse.”29

“My name is Alice. Is the part of Dame Van Winkle taken yet?” The young woman standing in front of me is far more attractive than the shrew of a woman I picture in the story.30

“No. Its not, but I don’t think that part would be right for you anyways. Maybe you could play Rip’s daughter after he wakes up.”31

“You think so?” She smiles at me.32

“Yeah, but I don’t really get the final say. I’m just here to get things ready.”33

“Well if you need any help, I can help.”34

“I don’t know. All I really need to do is walk around and film. Go into the mountains and pick some good locations.”35

“Well I know the mountains better then anyone.”36

And then it was settled. She follows me back to my hotel room and helps me with carrying a bit of the equipment. After a little tour of her town she shows me a small path going into the mountains. I hesitate, but she leads on.37

We share small talk. She tells me about her duties and how the town functions and I tell her about college and the city. We seem to be hitting it off pretty well when we come to a clearing in the trees.38

“I think this might be a good area to use for the amphitheater that Van Winkle comes across.” I move to position myself for a better shot of the area when I slip on a loose rock. Tumbling backwards on the slope of the mountain, I am knocked unconscious.39

As I awake Alice is kneeling beside me with concern in her eyes. My head is pounding.40

“I dreamt that I was Van Winkle and I woke up out here some time in the future. I had missed my finals and failed my classes. I got kicked out of the college for a low g.p.a. and my parents disowned me and it was all so horrible.” I am frantic, but she laughs. “It’s not funny.”41

She touches my cheek. “I guess not everyone can wake up to a new better life out here in the mountains like Van Winkle did.”42

Between her face, voice and touch, something clicks. Something in me changes.43

She helps me to my feet and we finish scouting for locations. The shadows are growing long again so we head back to the town. As we arrive Alice tells me she has some things to attend to and we part. I watch her as she walks through the town and out of sight.44

Just as I turn to go to the hotel, I notice the horse drawn cart with two riders heading in the same direction. I know it must be the casting director arriving in the same manner I had the night before. I meet up with her and exchange notes. After our business is over, I retreat to my room.45

The next day I search for Alice before I leave, but she is nowhere to be found. I take the same long route back home. When I get home I have no time to rest, just time to study for my tests. I use my cell phone, which finally works, and I contact my film teacher. He tells me that everything I ask for can be arranged since it is my project after all.46

When my tests are over and school is let out for Winter break, the studio sends me back to the Kaatskill mountains. There is already a team working on setting up the film, but I go straight to the casting list. Alice Damkot is cast for Judith Gardenier. Her information is listed next to her name.47

At her house I knock upon her old wooden door. When she answers she smiles.48

“You’re back! Why did you come back?” She says.49

“Van Winkle isn’t the only one who found magic in the Kaatskill mountains.”