First of all, Roosevelt Island is part of the District of Columbia, but you can only get there from the Virginia mainland. Obvious, I know. Then there's the fact that it is accessible only from northbound George Washington Parkway, which is a beautiful drive, but one of Washington's least accessible roadways. On top of it all (and what gives the island a modicum of charm), a pedestrian bridge offers the sole point of entry. Something this challenging to reach must be a real treasure, no?
This being Washington, DC, the idea is somewhat greater than the reality. Tedd Roosevelt - great proponent of national parks, icon of the outdoorsman, and mustachioed adventurer - is memorialized not so much with a nature preserve as an island estate gone to seed. Two hundred years ago, John Mason, son of George Mason, cleared much of the island, built a home, and planted a very impressive garden of flowers and fruit trees with little regard to native flora. He left in 1833, however, and you can imagine what 175 years of neglect can do to a garden.
Nowadays the island looks like the backyard of that neighbor everyone wishes would take care of their landscaping for once, but on a grander scale. The human detritus accumulating along the shores is plentiful enough for a dozen Boy Scouts to make Eagle (there's what looks like a washed-out wooden dock at the north end, fer cryin' out loud), and most of the foliage surely started out as weeds.
What TR might find most disappointing is the fact that there is no point on the island that offers an escape from the surrounding urban thrum. Through the leafless branches of Winter, from most of the island you can see the city all around you: the Watergate Hotel to the east, Georgetown to the north, and the gleaming office towers of Rosslyn to the west. The south side is dominated by the aforementioned five-lane bridge, and we didn't explore the path beyond because it was posted with a warning that herbicide had recently been sprayed to keep weeds at bay. Yeah, good luck with that. The coup de grace, however, is the roar of commercial airliners taking off from Reagan National Airport that since 9/11 have been routed directly over Teddy's tiny haven. Central Park offers more isolation.
The Theodore Roosevelt Memorial itself is a bit more impressive, but it too looks neglected. There's a broad plaza encircled by a stagnant moat that gets cleaned every leap year or so, a couple of requisite fountains, and some engraved slabs of granite. The plaza is dominated by a statue of the Man Himself, although he's posed like he's hailing a cab. Teddy would rather be elsewhere.
All that being said, at least it was outdoors, and the boys proved their stamina is increasing by traipsing the full circuit of trails over more than an hour. They liked the boardwalk bridge through the swamp (the entire eastern side of the island, basically), and we actually managed to see some wildlife: a hawk flying low overhead, and a great blue heron that I would have snapped a great picture of if Ian hadn't been, well, Ian. We don't call him "Dear lord, will you please give us a moment of peace and quiet?" for nothing.
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