Sunday Riders

I haven't been on my bike since the 5-boro due to an injury, so even though the weather looked a little questionable, I hauled my out-of-shape self onto my bike and headed out for a spin.
Like any good urbanite, I try to avoid certain key, congested areas when I travel from place to place. These are dependent on weather, season, day of the week, time of day, and like a London Cabbie, 'the knowledge' is a source of pride amongst those of us who make this city our home.
So today, I decided to bike to Harlem for brunch with a friend - and promptly regretted it.
Why? Well, my schedule has been a bit bizarre recently so I forgot one very important fact.

Today was Sunday.

And Sundays are for Sunday Riders.

Sunday Riders in NYC fall into three distinct categories:

1. The Date or Family outing.
Riding hybrids or cruisers, these cyclists will do anything to avoid riding in traffic including riding on sidewalks and going the wrong way in bike lanes. They ALWAYS ride abreast, never in line and are impossible to pass.

2. The Tourist.
Riding rental bikes, these daring adrenaline junkies are found only on the West Side Bike Path doing no more than 8 mph and can most often be seen stopped in clumps checking to make sure that they aren't lost. (Hint - It's a bike path, not a bike maze, it goes in a straight line.)

3. The Weekend Warrior.
These lycra bedecked athletes are out in force once the weather warms up, time trialling up the Hudson with their heart rate monitors and handlebar mounted GPS.
I don't actually have a problem with most of these guys. Hey, we all gotta pay our bills, and for most of us, that means no play time during the week.
The ones I have a problem with are the headphone wearers.
I get that music makes a work out easier. It's motivating. But given the crowds on the path on the weekend, cyclists wearing headphones make me homicidal.
We've already got the power walkers, joggers, and roller bladers wearing headphones. As cyclists, you've got to have experienced the insanity of trying to pass someone on a crowded path who's meandering all over the place and can't hear you behind them. Add deaf cyclists doing anywhere from 10 to 20 mph into the mix, and it's just hair raising.

Now, I'm not advocating something like this:



It's called a "CyFi" and quite frankly, I hope if you get one of these, you ride where I don't. But at least you might hear me when I tell you that I'm going to pass.

The 2008 NYC Five Boro Bike Tour

The NYC Five Boro Bike Tour is marketed as "The biggest recreational cycling event in the United States" - and it certainly feels that way as you wait for the start.
30,000 people on bicycles, all in one place, all at one time, is a lot.




This year, I cheated.

Before you get all crazy on me about fairplay and sportsmanship, I will point out that A: there were extenuating circumstances, and B: it's not like I pulled a Rosie Ruiz.

I've been trying to ride this tour with a good friend of mine for the last two years, and as she is quick to point out, SHE is the one who got me interested in riding it to begin with. But it just doesn't seem to happen. She's very active, works out, does martial arts, but she doesn't bike. She used to as a kid, but not any more.
Now, she's a motorist, and though she says she wants to ride the tour, I don't think she actually wants to be on a bicycle.

I think urban car drivers are far less likely to be comfortable riding a bike in traffic than anyone else. Their vision of traffic is so frustrating and full of bizarre hazards, that the thought of being on the street minus all the sheet metal gives them the heebeegeebees.

But that's the point of the bike tour, no traffic. For this one and only day each year, NYC allows some of it's streets to close, and the cyclists descend from everywhere to take advantage of it. (Hmm, imagine if it happened more than once a year?) So, it's not the traffic that keeps her from doing it, but each year something happens - and she can't make it.



I made a back up plan this year just in case, and two days before the tour, when she said she wasn't going to be able to go, I called another friend who has said for the last two years that he wished he had known before hand, because he would absolutely love to ride in it. He was happy, I was happy - until I got the email at midnight the night before...

Maybe he can meet me, but he won't know until morning. Maybe at the top of Central Park? I should call him.



This is where the pathetic excuse kicks in.

I just couldn't do it again.

Last year, I lined up all by myself, even though all my friends had dropped out or stood me up. I waited patiently in the freezing cold from 7 am until after 9 am when my part of the line finally started moving. I waited alone, listening to the couples and the families and the friends with Christmas garland hanging from their helmets, and I was bummed.

So this year, I rode in across the Brooklyn Bridge, hung a right instead of a left, rode up to 30th street, and then joined into the group. I still got caught in the pre-central park traffic jam, but at least there was a sense of movement, and less of a third wheel on a date kind of a feeling.

Once we started to move, I could feel how different this time was going to be from last year. I'm no triathlete, but I did ride more in the last year than I have at any point in my life. And I did most of it on these same rutted, crappy, city streets.

I felt strong. I felt fast. I felt happy, and I wasn't waiting for anybody.

I caught some fast riders and strung in behind them, letting them clear a path for the most part. Not too fast, we were getting passed by the 'super-bombers', but fast enough to feel good. Stopped for a banana and bathroom break at Astoria Park, hit the road again, and Holy Chiquita, Batman... I was in SI by 11:40 am!



Where, last year, I could barely move until the 'halfwayers' started to bail out at the Brooklyn Bridge, and I waited for hours until I could get on a ferry back to Manhattan, this year, we cooked along at an average speed of about 15 mph (topping out at 30 mph on the downhill section of the BQE), there was no wait for the ferry at all, and I was passing people going the other way back across the Brooklyn Bridge as I headed for home.

Would I go stand in line at the start next year? Sure, if I was with friends. But it's kind of like going to a football game. Tailgating is half the fun, but not if you're doing it by yourself.

5 Boro Route Map

For those of you still trying to figure out what's going on on Sunday, here's a great source of Bike info in NYC. Click on the map or follow the link below.

NYC BIKE MAPS

These guys are a great source and I feel shamed not to have mentioned them before now. (Although honestly, there's been a link to their site from this one for about a year.)

The 2008 NYC Five Boro Bike Tour is This Sunday

... And I haven't got a thing to wear.



I rode in the 2007 5Boro - AKA the Commerce Bank Five Boro Bike Tour (although why they can't spell 'borough' correctly, I'll never know.) Some people call it the New York City Bicycle Marathon, but I think that's pushing it a bit - it's only 42 miles long.

What it was, was very fun, and very cold, and from the weather report, it looks like more of the same. Last year I had the pleasure of A: being stood up by every single person who was going to ride with me, and B: ending up so far back in line at the start that I was 'blessed' by the priests of Trinity Church who came out onto the overpass a swung a censor over my head while I shivered in the cold.

I stood alone, freezing, waiting to move for what seemed like hours. From the start time at the head of the field, to the time I actually got to move, was endless and my lips were turning blue.

It doesn't look like it will be significantly warmer this year, so I'm trying to figure out what to wear that will be ok for standing around in the cold at 6:30 am, cruising along at around 18 to 20 mph on the BQE after all the 'halfwayers' leave the field at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge, and then keep out the wind on the ferry ride back to Manhattan. I must admit that I'm stumped.

I know, I know. Layers. But layers of what?



If you are not already signed up, you're sort of out of luck. Registration closed about a month ago and the ride is full, but I know from experience that around this many days before, a lot of people who were gung ho a month ago start developing strange ailments that 'force' them to drop out.
If you still want to go, try getting an ID number off craig's list, I would guess there are people looking to re-sell or give away theirs.
The thing is, you can't ride without one.

This is a very well attended, and therefore, very well organized ride. It is heavily staffed and the marshals will divert you from the route if you don't have a number.
So what, you say? Well, you can ride 42 miles around NYC any old time you want to, but on Sunday, more than 30,000 of us will be closing this city down to automobile traffic. That's what makes it fun.

How often do you get to ride on the FDR or the BQE? Other than Critical Mass, how often do you get to share the streets with thousands of cyclists and watch the car drivers shaking their fists in the vain hope that someday they will get to move? And my very favorite part? How often do you get to ride a bicycle across the Verrazano Narrows Bridge? Other than this ride? - Never.

Bike Gloves

I love bike gloves.

They are just the best example of industrial design I can think of at the moment.

They cushion the parts of your hand that need cushioning, they give extra grip to the parts that you need to be grippy, and a good, worn in pair makes even the most amateur of cyclists look serious.

However, beware the super dirty bike glove handshake.



The best part of the bike glove - especially on cold damp days like today - is the built-in snot rag.

I kid you not.

Other than the baby clothes you wore as a toddler, how many other things do you get to wear that have a part designed for you to wipe your snotty nose on. (I'm not even sure my baby clothes had a place where I was supposed to wipe my nose - I think I just did it.)

Cyclists have lots of issues, and there are lots of goofy specialized items designed to deal with those issues. We've got padded butts, and compression shorts, long-tailed jerseys, sex-specific seats, and oh, the list goes on - snotty noses are just a small part of it.

But I'll give credit where credit is due. The 'wipe your nose here' part of my glove is sheer genius.

Please, just remember to wash yours before you shake my hand.

A Perfect Beach Day

Now, this is how the boardwalk at Coney Island is supposed to look.



What a perfect day for a ride to the beach.

I wandered on down to Coney Island and basked in the sun for a few minutes before heading down through Brighton to the Belt Parkway Bike Path. The shoreline was alive with early summer fun; picnics, barbecues, and cyclists galore. I thought about heading to Canarsie, but then decided to hang a quick right and cross the Marine Parkway Bridge (AKA Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge) onto Rockaway Beach.



When you haven't ridden a route in a while, you forget the little details.
Such as... When you make the turn down Flatbush to go past Floyd Bennett Field and head to the bridge, don't stay on the right hand side, which is the side you come from and the side you are going to end up on. The bridge is more than a mile away and the tiny, rutted, glass covered path is a pointless obstacle when there is a perfectly lovely bike path on the other side of the road.
Oops, forgot about that.

Also, although I am as guilty as most, there is a reason that the sign asks cyclists to dismount and walk across the bridge.
The path is really narrow. Most of us ignore this and blithely bike across anyway - including me - but I don't try to pass riders in front of me while there is an oncoming cyclist.
Come On Mountain Bike Dude! There were only four people on the whole bridge and you had to pick the one moment in time when we were all at the same point on the span?

Anyway, a short sojourn to the ocean had me in a better frame of mind and I hung out for a while enjoying the quiet that only exists in the off season.
A month from now and Rockapulco will be in full swing.

As seen in...Ocean Parkway

Don't park on Ocean Parkway.
This was the sixth car I saw with a bashed out window as I went down the length of the road.
For you it's a bummer because someone smashes up your vehicle and steals all your stuff. For me it's a bummer because someone smashes up your vehicle and leaves this all over the street. -



Shattered safety glass is hell on tires.

I know you don't really care about my tires so much - after all someone just stole all your stuff, but why not kill two birds with one stone?

Don't park on Ocean Parkway and we'll both be happy.

It was a Dark and Stormy ... Beach Day?

Did the first ride of the season out to Coney Island.

I love this ride. There is something magical about being able to get on a bicycle in New York City, ride for a while, and end up at the Atlantic Ocean.

The sights and smells of a carnival mingle with the breeze blowing in off the sea. Hot Dogs, Beer, Suntan Oil... But there was none of that today. Today was quiet, misty and mysterious. A day where you look out to the ocean and imagine all the people and places on the other side of the fog.

Somedays, I love riding in NYC.

Spring is Here and it's Totally Craptastic

Beautiful, beautiful day.
Some of you may remember the issue with my new job - no bikes allowed in the building.
(See my post "Well That Sucks")
Well, I finally managed to get off my butt, collect about 40 pounds of locks, put air in the tires of my commuter bike, and get moving.
And I can honestly say, I've never seen a worse route in my life.
I now work in midtown, and there is really no way to get there that isn't fantabulously craptastic.
I mean, it's horrible.
Forget about the fear and agita of having to chain my bike up to the scaffolding outside the building. Forget about carrying four different locks that, I kid you not, weigh more than my steel frame road bike. No matter which side of Manhattan I come up, I've got to cross the worst, exhaust filled, speeding bus, potholed, crazy tourist filled streets I've ever seen - and I LIKE biking in NYC.
And the comments. My God.
Allow me to digress for more than a moment.
I love spring in NYC. Some of the most pleasurable weather is in spring and fall. The air is warm, but crisp and clear feeling. The light is beautiful, and everyone is happy. People start stripping off clothing left and right, which isn't always a good idea, but is, at times breathtaking. (There are a lot of very beautiful people here, and there is nothing like that first spring day when they start soaking up the sun and showing off the skin.)
For some reason, most bicyclists do not fall into this category of super-hotness. Could be how many fat asses there are out there. Could be that even if they aren't fat they jam those selfsame asses into unspeakable lycra outfits that you wouldn't make a beer cosy out of.
Ow! My eyes! I've gone blind!
Digression number two:
The other day, someone I haven't spoken with in many, many years found me via the internet. I was telling a friend about our little email exchange, and he said to me, 'Oh, he's just trying to date you.' - Like that's a bad thing. I don't think he meant it like that, but maybe he did. What, I can't go on a date? The guy was totally friendly, polite and nice.
Which brings me to my final craptacular point.
By what right do you - and you know who you are - get to say shit like that to me? Because I'm female and I'm on a bike? I am not wearing Lycra (and even if I was what business is it of yours) I am not shoving my body parts at you, I'm not even showing any skin between my bike gloves, my long sleeve shirt and my jeans.
To the nice guy in the van in Williamsburg who wished me a good day... 'Thank You' - was he trying to date me? I don't know. But he was polite and friendly and he made my day better.
To the (numerous) schmucks in Manhattan near the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel... 'Fuck You' and I hope someone says that to your Mother, your Sister, or your Daughter - then come talk to me.
Sometimes I think the world just wants me to be a hater - and I don't want to be a hater.