Thu, 05 May 2005 20:21:49 -0000 "Paul Murray" <
paulsmurray@...>
writes:
> Ok, I think I may just have played this smart. I parked up
> on Staten Island and got the ferry across in the morning.
Lot of people did that. Around 3 PM I saw many bikes being loaded onto
car racks in various streets of northeastern Staten Island. Maybe NY
Waterways should open their Hunters Point dock for park & boat and rail &
boat service to Wall Street or WFC in the morning and especially from St
George in the afternoon. Make a little money off Long Islanders who
don't want to waste time returning through Manhattan.
> I took the wrong road off Bay Street and ended up
> going up and down hills which I don't think I needed to.
Me, too. The gang I ended up leading to Jersey City arrived at the
Bayonne Bridge by the low road. They were smarter than me, at least for
the Staten Island portion of the evacuation. Hudson County is easier
since the streets form a grid rather than being laid out by following a
drunken cow.
> So by 8:45, I started pedalling. Progress was slow until we hit 55th
when we came to a stop.
Being a night worker and a Midtown resident, I slept late as usual,
cooked and ate my rice and beans and joined the herd at Rockefeller
Center at 10AM. Usually I completely skip the Manhattan portion of 5BBT
and join in Brooklyn, but the dampness of the pavement made me think this
was my best chance for lesser congestion on the official route, so I only
skipped half a mile of the Midtown jam by walking up Fifth Avenue.
> The first rest stop came suprisingly quickly so no stop was made.
I took advantage of none of the official refreshments or anything, being
a bandit without orange bib until I bought one at Atlantic Avenue. Not a
problem, having just eaten a hearty breakfast and brought my own water,
orange juice and a bit of bread. Forgot my granola bar.
Many riders dropped out along the way. You, being ahead and in a more
fit and fast group, probably saw few if any.
> There was only one point of worry. 59th Street bridge nearly
> wiped me out. Climbing up, the cyclists on mountain bikes
> seeemed to be taking an age to make forward progress
> so I started casually weaving through the crowd.
I don't have a true Granny gear on my antique Panasonic Sport 1000
touring bike, but the slow climbing spin of the mountain bikes was not so
much a problem. Maybe the density was lower, getting close to Noon. I
was passing them without much fuss. Surface by that time was dry. Main
thing was on the down slope, people stopped to photograph the United
Nations across the river. I was a little surprised the route didn't
include Gantry State Park where the photography is absolutely splendid.
> So the rest of the tour went by without mishap. Having started at
> 8:45, I was quite pleased to reach the festival area by 12:30.
Hmm, the course must have been thinning rapidly around Noon, because even
after stopping at Atlantic Avenue to legalise myself, I got into the
"festival" about 1:30, which is to say three and a half hours from
Midtown. I really went fast on the highway through Brooklyn, at least by
my own standard, sometimes 20 MPH and in one place 27.
The field at Fort Wadsworth was a boring place. I escaped the herd to
bike west and south to Miller Field to do some exploring and, it turned
out, found an opportunity to teach a family how to use the gearshifts on
their brand new $50 Honda mountain bikes. Much more fun than the
"festival." After rejoining the herd for an hour, I jumped the fence
again to escape via New Jersey.
> I was able to admire the riders over the Verizanno and
> could only imagine what they were feeling as they walked,
> huffed and puffed there way over the large span.
Remember a codger with white beard, round white helmet, purple shirt,
jeans shorts? That was me, following you by an hour. Was anyone allowed
to escape back to Brooklyn?
> It sets me nicely up for the two Montauk rides over the next two
weekends.
Splendid. I haven't ridden to Montauk in the past twenty years, and that
was solo from Jamaica. If ever again, it will be in a herd.