The ferry pulled up to the east side of Manhattan with the skyline swelling until it cast a shadow on us and the boat. Initially there was trepidation about biking on the city streets having seen the many reckless messenger videos. Fortunately for us we had come across an interesting App called Bike There that overlays layers on google maps indicating where existing bike infrastructure stands. We picked a route from the dock of the ferry and embarked, hoping to escape Manhattan before rush hour traffic.
What we found was a pleasant surprise. There seemed to be an abundance of bike lanes, separated paths and bridge crossings. Before we knew it we were across the river in Brooklyn pulling up to our friend Christy's house. Her and Lauren, who had been in a close knit group of friends in college, had a joyous reunion.
With one on watch the whole time, we shuttled our belongings up four flights of stairs and locked our bikes in the back yard. For a Brooklyn appartment shared by four twenty somethings, the layout was spacious. The main area being a contiguous kitchen, dining and living room. We tried to occupy as little space as possible and formed a pile in the corner.
That evening there was a birthday party for one of Christy's housemates, Mike. Festivities were held on the roof above the bustling streets of Brooklyn and within sight (if you leaned over the edge) of the Empire State Building. It was a lovely scene with christmas lights winding along the ground between benches, feet and a cooler full of beer. As we sat and conversed with our new friends we came to realize that the temperature and humidity were much more tolerable on the rooftop than in the under ventilated living room. With that we decided to urban camp rather than crowd out their couch.
As the sun came up over our rooftop bedroom, which was painted silver to reflect its hot rays, we found ourselves in the epicenter of a sort of adhoc solar oven. Quickly we rose from our now extremely sweaty mats feeling pretty well rested. Stumbling down the central stairs we clambered back into the apartment, which now felt pleasant in comparison. Slowly we came to life with caffeine and food in our bellies and geared up for Summer Streets, where they shut down an entire central viaduct in Manhattan from the Brooklyn Bridge up to central park.
It wasn't till about 11 that we dawned our helmets and mounted our bikes, which would have been fine, except the show ended at noon. Christy deftly guided us through the Brooklyn streets to the shared bicycle and pedestrian platform that crossed the bridge. Shared might actually be an overstatement. The entire platform was about 10 feet wide with 3 feet allotted for bikes, which would be acceptable despite the fact that it was to accommodate two directions of traffic. Bells were blazing for the duration of the crossing, as aloof tourists sauntered and stood in the already impacted bike-way. At this point, it became apparent that pedestrians were to be our greatest danger in the city streets.
Safely on the Manhattan side of the bridge we entered a bustling street filled with cyclists, skaters, rollerbladers, and pedestrians. Cross streets were well regulated by traffic cops and there was finally enough room that the street could be shared by all of its users without significant hazard. Christy left to make a work appointment and Lauren and I were on our own. Sauntering northward, we soon realized that the police imposed auto dams were about to be lifted. Not desiring to drown in a flood of cars on a street with no bike lane we motored towards the nearest safe haven, Central Park.
To our delight we found that Central Park's surface streets are always closed to vehicular traffic except during rush hour traffic, leaving us with an 843 acre playground amongst the great monoliths of Manhattan. On our ride through the park we encountered many other users enjoying the sunny Sunday afternoon and all of the parks many amenities which include: ponds, forested areas, carriage rides, playing fields, free public swimming pools, bridges, rocky outcroppings and certainly many others that remained unseen by us.
Having circumnavigated the park we headed home, now primarily using the city's free bike map to navigate down Broadway. This soon put us smack in the middle of Times Square. For us two country kids the whole scene was a little overwhelming, much more so than the rest of the city. Streets were now entirely overrun by distracted pedestrians gawking at the many flashing billboards and banner signs. It had become so thick that we had to walk our bikes for a ways, even in places where we should have been able to ride.
With the chaos of Times behind us we ran into a farmers market at Union Square conveniently located next to a Whole Foods. Having already been exposed to the extremely high prices of everything in the city I was not even phased, except by the color coded cue that guided shoppers like chattel to the 30 some odd cashier islands. Thirty pounds heavier we were finally headed off the island for the day. Remembering our experience on the Brooklyn Bridge we opted for the Manhattan bridge that we took in across the river the day before that has a separated bike-way with no pedestrians. Once at Christy's we cooked dinner chatted for awhile and retreated to our penthouse campsite.
The following days we spent exploring the different corners of the city by bike. It seemed as though you could devote a month to this activity and still have a lot to see. Many coffee shops were visited in this time and a few e-mails and blog posts were drafted, but largely we spent our time creating the stories we document here.
We went South to Rockaway beach one day via Coney Island and enjoyed a small fish taco stand on our way to the southern end of the subway line. Underground we became disoriented, passed our would-be-stop beneath Christy's doorstep, and when the train finally stopped Lauren got off, but I was not quick enough and I watched her disappear on the platform with the map and phone. The next stop I bolted across the platform to a train about to leave on the other side, thinking that it would be heading in the other direction--wrong--instead, it hurtled me further away. Finally I got off. I thought about trying to return from whence I came but realized that I would probably do better on the streets that I was quickly becoming familiar with. In seconds I oriented myself and made it home in a mere 10 minutes, sometime before Lauren, the separation confusing our host, Christy, at the door.
Other days we visited bike shops including the local bike Co-op called Times Up. During the visit, where we gave our bikes a once over, and Lauren installed new pedals, it was apparent that the shop was severely lacking skillful mechanics to provide help to their patrons. Before long I found myself instructing one of the only employees available, who was admittedly under trained, before reinforcements showed up. Through this experience I began to feel so proud of my alma mater, the SLO Bike Kitchen, which is a wonderfully put together, well managed organization (Thank you Tyler, Leslie, and Dan!).
Another point of interest was a place called the High Line, a defunct elevated freight rail bed in the center of Manhattan. Thanks to a couple motivated individuals, after many years of dormancy, it was adopted as a city park and filled with architectural walkways, benches, fountains, and blossoming in native plants. This was a distinctively quiet escape only 20 feet above the bustling streets below; and probably, Lauren's favorite stop in the whole city.
Normally when we woke up we would check the weather. If it indicated that it might rain we would take down the tent and generally evacuate the roof before we left for the day. After several days of false alarms we had become lazy. The day before we intended to leave the city, the forecast showed rain for much of the day, ready to go and feeling lazy we simply threw our rainfly over our belongings and hoped for the best. After trying to write in a coffee shop with no WiFi or bathroom, we explored an old industrial district in the south west end of Brooklyn, Red Hook, an up and coming neighborhood. As we started winding our way up the shoreline seeking views of Miss Liberty and the island, it started to rain for the second time that day. We sought refuge under a sun umbrella at Brooklyn's Pier 1 Park, ordered a hot sandwich and tried to wait it out.
Soon it was apparent that the storm was not going to let up before the umbrella soaked through and we decided that it would be wise to head back to Christy's house and check on our rooftop abode, which by now was most certainty soaked. By the time that we had reached DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge) the storm had really picked up, and we thought, briefly, about getting a cookie before we realized that the building was airconditioned and we did not want to risk hypothermia. The onslaught continued, at some points hailing, and the streets began to fill with water. Poor Lauren was becoming successively more blind as her glasses fogged and her vision was clogged by droplets.
When we reached the front door we were greeted by several tenants peering out the glass front door into the rain hoping that it might let up so that they might walk to work without being saturated. Now inside we were forming puddles on the tile in the foyer and we tried to figure out where to put our bikes that had been parked outside for the week. Deciding on the space under the central staircase Lauren rolled her bike in that direction just as I notice the weather begin to turn again. Winds started to howl and I proclaimed "Lauren its really geting crazy outside." As she sarcastically replied that "it couldn't possibly be any worse," I bolted out of the front door having seen a green flash across the top part of the front door.
By the time that Lauren came out to see what was going on she found me coming back with a handful of sopping sleeping bag and pillows, behind me another onlooker was holding our tent from blowing further away in the gutter, now river. We shuttled our belongings into the building with ghastly despair, realizing our terrible oversight for the day. It was a sad sight, our mangled home heaped in Christy's shower.
Trying to get over our self pity, it was time to make use of the tennis balls that I picked up in Tribune Kansas and go to the laundromat. The dryers here were only 1 penny per minute, unfortunately our stuff was also covered in road grime and the super size washers were more like $7, oh well. Hours later our stuff was clean, dry and fluffed and we were feeling much better, except our rain fly was still ripped and our tent poles still bent. Knowing that REI sells our tent, despite not having bought it there, we decided to give them a call.
The man on the other line told Lauren that "REI can only refund items purchased at REI," but he had sympathy for our situation and told Lauren, "What you need to do is: when you come, be sure that you say that you purchased it at REI." Reassured, we planned the trip to the downtown store for the next day and decided to catch a movie to relax for the rest of the evening. Now bear in mind this was not just any movie, but The Dark Knight Rises, and while in New York City why not see it in IMax. Thinking that the show was at 9:45 we boarded the subway and ventured into Manhattan. When we walked up to the front counter and asked for 3 tickets, the attendant frowned and told us that the movie would not be playing due to a broken screen, but we might catch the showing up the street. Walking again towards Times Square we thought that the new show time was at 10:15, which is getting a little late for our normal sleep schedule. This time at an automated ticket vendor, it was revealed that the Movie wouldn't show until 11:00 PM. Having come so far we decided to go for it and went back into the street seeking some coffee for Lauren and candy cheaper than the concession stand.
The movie itself shook us with its incredible volume, explosive action and dramatic base lines, which lasted for 3 hours. I must say that it was strange watching a film filmed in the city that you are watching it in. It almost made it seem that we might return to the street to find that it had all come true. Exhausted we rode the train home and fell asleep, this time on the couch.
Our last day was spent returning our ill-fated tent, which we would have to replace in Yonkers on our way out, and shopping at a local bike shop. Finally, after weeks of looking I found a suitable replacement for the bike shorts that had stretched, thinned, and turned orange from the sun in our country crossing. I also found a clear waterproof map sleeve that mounts to my handlebars, which had evaded us for some weeks now. With some shopping and packing we were finally ready to leave the megalopolis after nearly a week. We went to bed that night, again on the couch.
We awoke, packed our lives back into 8 bags, and set out to leave the great city.
That evening there was a birthday party for one of Christy's housemates, Mike. Festivities were held on the roof above the bustling streets of Brooklyn and within sight (if you leaned over the edge) of the Empire State Building. It was a lovely scene with christmas lights winding along the ground between benches, feet and a cooler full of beer. As we sat and conversed with our new friends we came to realize that the temperature and humidity were much more tolerable on the rooftop than in the under ventilated living room. With that we decided to urban camp rather than crowd out their couch.
To our delight we found that Central Park's surface streets are always closed to vehicular traffic except during rush hour traffic, leaving us with an 843 acre playground amongst the great monoliths of Manhattan. On our ride through the park we encountered many other users enjoying the sunny Sunday afternoon and all of the parks many amenities which include: ponds, forested areas, carriage rides, playing fields, free public swimming pools, bridges, rocky outcroppings and certainly many others that remained unseen by us.Having circumnavigated the park we headed home, now primarily using the city's free bike map to navigate down Broadway. This soon put us smack in the middle of Times Square. For us two country kids the whole scene was a little overwhelming, much more so than the rest of the city. Streets were now entirely overrun by distracted pedestrians gawking at the many flashing billboards and banner signs. It had become so thick that we had to walk our bikes for a ways, even in places where we should have been able to ride.
We went South to Rockaway beach one day via Coney Island and enjoyed a small fish taco stand on our way to the southern end of the subway line. Underground we became disoriented, passed our would-be-stop beneath Christy's doorstep, and when the train finally stopped Lauren got off, but I was not quick enough and I watched her disappear on the platform with the map and phone. The next stop I bolted across the platform to a train about to leave on the other side, thinking that it would be heading in the other direction--wrong--instead, it hurtled me further away. Finally I got off. I thought about trying to return from whence I came but realized that I would probably do better on the streets that I was quickly becoming familiar with. In seconds I oriented myself and made it home in a mere 10 minutes, sometime before Lauren, the separation confusing our host, Christy, at the door.
Normally when we woke up we would check the weather. If it indicated that it might rain we would take down the tent and generally evacuate the roof before we left for the day. After several days of false alarms we had become lazy. The day before we intended to leave the city, the forecast showed rain for much of the day, ready to go and feeling lazy we simply threw our rainfly over our belongings and hoped for the best. After trying to write in a coffee shop with no WiFi or bathroom, we explored an old industrial district in the south west end of Brooklyn, Red Hook, an up and coming neighborhood. As we started winding our way up the shoreline seeking views of Miss Liberty and the island, it started to rain for the second time that day. We sought refuge under a sun umbrella at Brooklyn's Pier 1 Park, ordered a hot sandwich and tried to wait it out.Soon it was apparent that the storm was not going to let up before the umbrella soaked through and we decided that it would be wise to head back to Christy's house and check on our rooftop abode, which by now was most certainty soaked. By the time that we had reached DUMBO (Down Under the Manhattan Bridge) the storm had really picked up, and we thought, briefly, about getting a cookie before we realized that the building was airconditioned and we did not want to risk hypothermia. The onslaught continued, at some points hailing, and the streets began to fill with water. Poor Lauren was becoming successively more blind as her glasses fogged and her vision was clogged by droplets.
When we reached the front door we were greeted by several tenants peering out the glass front door into the rain hoping that it might let up so that they might walk to work without being saturated. Now inside we were forming puddles on the tile in the foyer and we tried to figure out where to put our bikes that had been parked outside for the week. Deciding on the space under the central staircase Lauren rolled her bike in that direction just as I notice the weather begin to turn again. Winds started to howl and I proclaimed "Lauren its really geting crazy outside." As she sarcastically replied that "it couldn't possibly be any worse," I bolted out of the front door having seen a green flash across the top part of the front door.
By the time that Lauren came out to see what was going on she found me coming back with a handful of sopping sleeping bag and pillows, behind me another onlooker was holding our tent from blowing further away in the gutter, now river. We shuttled our belongings into the building with ghastly despair, realizing our terrible oversight for the day. It was a sad sight, our mangled home heaped in Christy's shower.
The man on the other line told Lauren that "REI can only refund items purchased at REI," but he had sympathy for our situation and told Lauren, "What you need to do is: when you come, be sure that you say that you purchased it at REI." Reassured, we planned the trip to the downtown store for the next day and decided to catch a movie to relax for the rest of the evening. Now bear in mind this was not just any movie, but The Dark Knight Rises, and while in New York City why not see it in IMax. Thinking that the show was at 9:45 we boarded the subway and ventured into Manhattan. When we walked up to the front counter and asked for 3 tickets, the attendant frowned and told us that the movie would not be playing due to a broken screen, but we might catch the showing up the street. Walking again towards Times Square we thought that the new show time was at 10:15, which is getting a little late for our normal sleep schedule. This time at an automated ticket vendor, it was revealed that the Movie wouldn't show until 11:00 PM. Having come so far we decided to go for it and went back into the street seeking some coffee for Lauren and candy cheaper than the concession stand.
The movie itself shook us with its incredible volume, explosive action and dramatic base lines, which lasted for 3 hours. I must say that it was strange watching a film filmed in the city that you are watching it in. It almost made it seem that we might return to the street to find that it had all come true. Exhausted we rode the train home and fell asleep, this time on the couch.
Our last day was spent returning our ill-fated tent, which we would have to replace in Yonkers on our way out, and shopping at a local bike shop. Finally, after weeks of looking I found a suitable replacement for the bike shorts that had stretched, thinned, and turned orange from the sun in our country crossing. I also found a clear waterproof map sleeve that mounts to my handlebars, which had evaded us for some weeks now. With some shopping and packing we were finally ready to leave the megalopolis after nearly a week. We went to bed that night, again on the couch.
We awoke, packed our lives back into 8 bags, and set out to leave the great city.
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