Wastewater trail review

(Above left: view up Newtown Creek from trail plaza; right: view of plant innards from a porthole just past trail entrance.)

I visited the "nature trail" at the Newtown Creek Wastewater Treatment Plant on a recent Saturday.  (Note "wastewater" is just a nice way to say "sewage.")

Like any nature trail, it's not the features of the trail itself, but the world it crosses that's interesting.  This trail puts you in between long-abused Newtown Creek and what is surely the most visually interesting treatment plant I've seen.  But since the trail is a "Percent for Art" project that cost $3.2 million, I'll cover its features as well.


Probably inspired by the shiny fixtures of the million Manhattan bathrooms the plant serves, the trail is chock full of stainless steel and chrome; the plant itself is accented with expanses of green tile that reinforce the bathroom vibe.

Above left is the entrance to the trail; a forlorn "scent garden" hides under a fat, shiny metal bridge just past the gates.  With the colorful machinery of the plant visible to the right (above right), and portholes like the one on top here right past the gate, the grand entrance just feels like excess.


Past the bridge, the first leg of the path lines up with a distant marker, in the pagan tradition (above left).

The next leg of the path passes an immaculate, ghostly asphalt plant (above right), then arrives at a plaza facing the creek; the view back up the path (right) suggests the campus of some futuristic institute.

(Above) The plaza faces Newtown Creek with bug-zapper lights at the ready; also note the chrome "snail antenna" handrail, ready to lead pilgrims seeking cures down into the healing mineral goodness of the creek.

(Below) As you round the corner to the inlet (Whale Creek), you are greeted by the most beautiful "disinfection domes" on earth, glinting across the water.


Below left, useless rocks are given purpose, supporting a sturdy chrome gate (what the gate's purpose is, I have no idea).  On the right, fencing that suggests a chrome towel rack.


And below, in the picnic area near the end of the trail, a trio of philosopher's stones help inspire deep thoughts about wastewater management, and a silver barrel inspires thoughts of... the Beverly Hillbillies?


Verdict: It's great that the trail gives the public access to the creek and plant.  Durable fences, benches and foliage make sense.  But the fancy details -- including the scent garden, bridge, lights (the trail is closed at night) and the features that supposedly connect it to its site -- like the ugly, undulating chrome fences meant to suggest waves, the names of Indian tribes and geological epochs etched into stone, and the cartoonish barrels meant to suggest long gone cooperages -- smack of the need to rationalize the money spent, and to paint a happy face over the history of the site with empty associations.

That history is mainly one of abuse.  Newtown Creek has long served as a dumping ground for industry and NYC's wealthier neighborhoods.  Long Island City and Blissville, on the Queens shore of the creek, are choked with roads and rail lines that carry Long Islanders into the city.  Greenpoint sits on a lava lamp-like blob of oil leaked from industry along the creek.

So the story worth telling here is of the ongoing rescue of the creek from that history, and of the need for plants like this one to clean up the mess we make.  I think some of the "Percent for Art" money would have been better spent explaining what's happened to the creek, and what happens in the plant.

When I saw this drinking fountain near the picnic area, mounted on the wall of the plant, I thought: that's appetizing.

But the water fountain is a great idea, and maybe some day the DEP will have the confidence to put this plaque above it: "The water you are about to drink was processed in this plant."  (Conveniently, the NY Times just ran an article about turning wastewater into drinking water -- though not directly.)

Google map to trail here; DEP map and description of trail here.