You know, Lucille is such a joy I sometimes forget that she is actually a conveyance. It wasn’t until I found myself waiting for the train down to 14th Street to catch the L that I realized I could have simply ridden there! The L dropped us off on the East Side at 1st Avenue and 14th, where we rode to the East River and down to Pier 11.
The great thing about bike riding, is that it gives you a familiarity with your surroundings you would otherwise never get. Places that are too far to walk; places that the subway would never take you; places that if you drove, you wouldn't have near as much fun, as you’d spend all your time looking for parking.
Pier 11 is at Wall Street and the East River. Now, how many times have I been to Wall Street – even ridden by Wall St – and never noticed Pier 11? But there it was, giving free ferry rides on the weekend to Fairway and IKEA in Red Hook.
This is the little ferry that goes there:
As I proceeded to Prospect Park, the streets got quieter and quieter, leafier and leafier until I entered just below Grand Army Plaza.
The air was heavenly from the start, almost like a pristine forest (cars banned on the weekends). The crowds were thin (mostly at the Pride March?) and I wondered – why doesn’t Brooklyn have a bigger park? They need it and they deserve it. Brooklyn is definitely under served in that department. As I rode further in, I wanted to take photos of the generous trees overhead, but it would be like asking someone dying of thirst to stop drinking and describe the feeling. I was too busy drinking it all in. What a great sensation. No truly fiendish hills, but plenty of excuses for good breathing.
There was one urban moment, as I passed Drummers Cove. I have passed by drummers’ places before – in Central Park, Marcus Garvey Park (off season), but never have I heard drumming like this in a New York park. Stopped cycling, parked Lucille, and just listened - and moved! Tried to record, but the Droid mic was overwhelmed. When I got it home, it played back what sounded like a cacophony of triangles. Here’s a photo at least. You can barely see the drummers without motion, but the whole place was jumping with drums and dance.
The #3 took us out of Brooklyn, and up the Manhattan’s West Side where some of the Pride marchers entered uneventfully at Christopher. It was around 7:30, and I knew from my Chelsea experience, that this was the lull before the bigger celebration in the bars, so my timing was good.
Got home feeling like I’d had a truly refreshing trip out of town, but glad to be returning to my Proud neighborhood.
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