The fingers go like this:
Besides, I haven’t ridden in days; I am becoming less and less fit company - and less and less fit. He wishes me a safe ride and I continue with my plan: to ride over Williamsburg Bridge, then around the Brooklyn Navy Yard returning over the Manhattan Bridge. Lola is of course my chosen bike.
Here’s what my outfit looks like (and don’t forget 6 tissues for obligatory nose blowing):
This is for the toes:
I’d like to mention that the order is just as important as the gear, because if I don’t get it right, I have to start all over, and time is light at this time of year. I could miss my ride completely just trying to get ready for it.
My core is well layered - good.
I give my middle finger a nice fat hematoma pumping up Lola’s tires (Grrrr! Will somebody please show me how to do this?), and I’m on my way.
I’m not the only one who’s bundled up.
I navigate down 2nd Ave, left on Stanton, right on Suffolk and the entrance to the Williamsburg bridge opens up before me - a sight I haven’t seen in far too long. This is by far the most bike-friendly bridge we have, the smoothest ride. And I’m just loving that I have it all to myself. It doesn’t occur to me that there might be a reason for this.
The pavement isn't getting any better, and I consider turning around. But then I see in the distance something I’ve never before encountered: a kind of “bike path” street sweeper, and he’s headed my way.
The street sweeper passes...
At the entrance to the Manhattan Bridge, I encounter a cyclist with an antic sense of humor.
Two hours after starting out, I’m back feeling more myself; like I’ve breathed for the first time in days. For that, the trip was worth it (and getting out of my biking gear takes no time at all). But next time I’ll pay more attention to sage advice when it's offered. And next time I’ll take a sturdier bike.