Okay. So. Bike New York Five Boro Tour.
May. 8th, 2006 11:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
camwynYesterday was my first really major cycling event- really major sporting event of any kind, actually. I've been in things like the MS Roll, which was a fundraiser skating event involving the Lincoln Tunnel (fun skate!), and I've done the Twin Lights Ride down in Monmouth/Atlantic counties, but the Five Boro Tour is HUGE. We're talking thirty thousand riders. I am told this is as big as the New York Marathon.
I knew it was big- you couldn't get an entire side of the Queensboro Bridge or a chunk of the BQE closed off for anything small- but I had no clue it was THAT big until I got to Exchange Place yesterday and saw that half the people waiting for the PATH also had bicycles. When the train pulled in, there were more cyclists than ordinary passengers. Some of us had to stand our bikes on their rear wheels to fit them all in... and then we got out of the PATH station (a process that involves either four elevators or a whole buncha flights of stairs) and saw the street in front of us. Trinity Place had bicycles the way a stable has flies: hordes of them, swarms of them, in every size and shape and design and colour. (No, seriously. If you spend long enough at a stable, you realise just how many different kinds of fly there are.) I headed down to Battery Park to check in, but they said I had a vest and helmet number already, so I didn't have to check in. Fine, not a problem. I got some more air in my rear tire and got into the horde waiting to start.
Thirty thousand riders. Let me reiterate this. 30,000 riders on one street, to ride up that street as far as Central Park. The starting gun went off at 8 AM. My part of the pack got moving at nine.
The ride itself went marvellously well, though I was frustrated by having to get off and walk when we reached a number of bottlenecks. You can only get so many people into Central Park at one go, especially if you have to allow car traffic past first, so most of the initial pack got stopped on Sixth Avenue around 50th street or so and had to walk eight or nine blocks. The Park itself was a good ride; we took the eastern part of the Park's central loop, the bit that runs between the Met on the right and Cleopatra's Needle on the left. At the other end we emerged around 110th Street and went up Adam Clayton Powell, and I have to admit that I was a bit shocked to discover just how easily it seemed all those blocks since Battery Park had passed. I mean, two weeks ago, 'make it to 125th Street' was a big big thing. And here I was going past 135th without even blinking... We got directed over a block or four eventually, and then the megaphones started. "BEAR TO THE RIGHT! YOU'RE ALMOST TO THE BRONX!"
The Madison Avenue Bridge isn't especially impressive to look at, but it was the first time I'd ever ridden my bike out of one division of New York City and into another. It was rather like the time last summer that I realised I'd just ridden from New Jersey to New York, because I'd successfully crossed the Bayonne Bridge into Staten Island under my own power. It's a weirdly cool experience.
We weren't in the Bronx long. After a few blocks we went back over the Third Street Bridge, and as we drew even with Randall's Island or Ward's Island or whatever it was, we had the first rest stop. I got a banana and a cereal bar and some fruit leather and extra water, called my dad, and told him where I'd reached. Then it was back into the saddle again and down the FDR Drive. I tried to remember to wave to spectators, because we had a few, and I had to restrain myself from giggling at the sight of the cars coming from the other direction. "I AM ON YOUR ROAD! I HAVE FULL RIGHTS ON THIS ROAD! I AM NOT PAYING THREE DOLLARS A GALLON TO USE THIS ROAD!" is not a becoming sentiment, I'm afraid.
Satisfying in a weird kind of way, maybe, but not very becoming.
We bottlenecked again getting off the FDR and around onto the Queensboro Bridge, which was kind of annoying. I hate having to walk my bike. The bridge itself, though- wow. This was a SERIOUS bridge. This was a HIGH bridge over a BIG river. This was the bridge from Spiderman. That bridge. And here's me and thirty thousand other people, swarming over it on bicycles... I had a hell of a time getting to the midpoint, because bridges are just two uphills joined together end to end, but after I did the downhill was so sweet. Ride marshals were yelling for us to smile for the cameras (Bike NY had professional photographers taking pictures of people), but I was grinning because this was Queens, where I grew up. Also because the big Silvercup Studios sign was the first thing I saw and I remembered seeing the original sign go boom in Highlander.
We rode from there to Astoria Park, between the Triboro and the Hell's Gate bridges. I had to laugh more than a few times, because our route was through commercial territory, and I kept seeing cyclists who'd pulled over to go to Dunkin Donuts. Or to White Castle, or to Church's Fried Chicken. I don't know if they planned to rejoin the ride or what, but honestly, people- that's what after is for. Junk food is supposed to be motivational, not something that happens in the middle. At least I could tell myself Dunkin Donuts was a coffee stop, but still...
From Astoria Park we turned around and headed for Brooklyn, keeping to a road whose name eludes me. At one point it went over the Gowanus Canal, though, and that was our last serious bottleneck. This time it wasn't the bridge that was the problem. Someone had had an accident and wiped out badly enough to need an ambulance, and we were told first to walk our bikes, then to stop entirely and wait for the ambulance to take the rider away. I don't know how badly she was hurt, but they used an immobilizer board and she had one eye taped up (I was near the front of the group who had to stop). There was another accident later, but I don't know how many serious incidents there were overall.
From there we went through Brooklyn, again on a road relatively near the water, but whose name eludes me. Much of it was grubby waterfront business territory. Then it got into interesting businesses- shops and such- and then we got into Williamsburg. There were little Jewish kids watching us with their parents. Some of them were offering the riders candy as we went. It was terribly cute. The streets got really narrow at a few points, but the cops had enforced the No ParkingDammitSunday signs and we didn't get any serious bottlenecks that I remember, though we came close. Eventually, we got to a vest checkpoint. If we had vests, we went in one direction, and if we didn't we went another. Only the vest people- the ones who'd registered in advance- got to go on the BQE.
That is one mean highway. Aside from being under loads of construction and repair, it's just nasty to feel underneath you, and it's got two of the three longest hills of the ride. At one point on hill #2 I kept hearing music I didn't know. I was pedaling in gear 3 or so by then and when I drop below gear 4 (out of 7) I tend to keep my eyes on the road directly in front of me, but I kept looking around for the speakers. Eventually I asked one of the other riders if they heard the music too, and they did, which was a relief. If I ever have an auditory non-hypnagogic hallucination I'd like it to be for some reason better than 'owie, must pedal'.
Nice downhill, though, even if we did have to bleed off most of our speed to make the right-hand turn to get back onto the streets. We were headed through the everyday roads towards the Verrazzano, and there was one more vest check to go. Only those of us who had vests got to go over the second longest suspension bridge in the world.
Remember the bit about bridges being two uphills stuck together?
The main span of the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge is 4,260 feet. That would be the bit between the towers. Add in the rest of the bridge and you have 6690 feet of total suspended bridge... 3,345 feet of which is uphill. That's more than half a mile, at the end of thirtymumble miles of hard riding. I remember looking at it and letting out a tiny silent prayer- Saint Christopher, there is a river to cross- before I started in on it.
I got passed on both sides by people more used to this kind of thing, but I didn't really care. This was my first time over the bridge, and I was tired, and unbeknownst to me I was sunburned, and I was running low on iron because I was still in Bad Day To Wear White Trousers time. All I wanted was to get over that damned, damned bridge without having to get off and walk. I deliberately prodded one of the associated-idea clusters in my head that I use for RP'ing characters and spent most of the ride with a cranky English sergeant yelling at me in the back of my head, because damn, I needed all the encouragement I could get...
I'll tell you, though. When you get to the top and you realise your thighs are no longer working harder than your lungs, it's a beautiful feeling. And when you see people standing by the side of the road who have no clue who you are, but they're waving signs saying YOU DID IT and RIDE IT LIKE YOU STOLE IT, it is a magnificent thing. I made it across the finish line at 1:44 PM and rolled out of the way, shook out my hands, and made an incoherent call to my mother to let her know I'd managed it.
We still had three miles to go after that to get to the Staten Island Ferry, but that was fine by me. I got a souvenir jersey and pair of riding shorts, which I intend to wear this September- you see, I promised myself I'd do a full century ride by September, and Transportation Alternatives NY is running one on the tenth. Leave from the Harlem Meer in Central Park, down to the Williamsburg or Brooklyn Bridge, weeeeeee over to Floyd Bennett Field and up into Queens, out to Alley Pond, back to the Triboro, up into the Bronx, and then back to Central Park.
Gonna have some serious riding to do between now and then, I reckon. And possibly a bike upgrade, if I can get the Tempo from Dynamic.
.... yeah, I'm insane. But I can honestly say that I did forty-two miles under my own power despite sunburn and blood loss, and that's a thing, I think, to be proud of.
I knew it was big- you couldn't get an entire side of the Queensboro Bridge or a chunk of the BQE closed off for anything small- but I had no clue it was THAT big until I got to Exchange Place yesterday and saw that half the people waiting for the PATH also had bicycles. When the train pulled in, there were more cyclists than ordinary passengers. Some of us had to stand our bikes on their rear wheels to fit them all in... and then we got out of the PATH station (a process that involves either four elevators or a whole buncha flights of stairs) and saw the street in front of us. Trinity Place had bicycles the way a stable has flies: hordes of them, swarms of them, in every size and shape and design and colour. (No, seriously. If you spend long enough at a stable, you realise just how many different kinds of fly there are.) I headed down to Battery Park to check in, but they said I had a vest and helmet number already, so I didn't have to check in. Fine, not a problem. I got some more air in my rear tire and got into the horde waiting to start.
Thirty thousand riders. Let me reiterate this. 30,000 riders on one street, to ride up that street as far as Central Park. The starting gun went off at 8 AM. My part of the pack got moving at nine.
The ride itself went marvellously well, though I was frustrated by having to get off and walk when we reached a number of bottlenecks. You can only get so many people into Central Park at one go, especially if you have to allow car traffic past first, so most of the initial pack got stopped on Sixth Avenue around 50th street or so and had to walk eight or nine blocks. The Park itself was a good ride; we took the eastern part of the Park's central loop, the bit that runs between the Met on the right and Cleopatra's Needle on the left. At the other end we emerged around 110th Street and went up Adam Clayton Powell, and I have to admit that I was a bit shocked to discover just how easily it seemed all those blocks since Battery Park had passed. I mean, two weeks ago, 'make it to 125th Street' was a big big thing. And here I was going past 135th without even blinking... We got directed over a block or four eventually, and then the megaphones started. "BEAR TO THE RIGHT! YOU'RE ALMOST TO THE BRONX!"
The Madison Avenue Bridge isn't especially impressive to look at, but it was the first time I'd ever ridden my bike out of one division of New York City and into another. It was rather like the time last summer that I realised I'd just ridden from New Jersey to New York, because I'd successfully crossed the Bayonne Bridge into Staten Island under my own power. It's a weirdly cool experience.
We weren't in the Bronx long. After a few blocks we went back over the Third Street Bridge, and as we drew even with Randall's Island or Ward's Island or whatever it was, we had the first rest stop. I got a banana and a cereal bar and some fruit leather and extra water, called my dad, and told him where I'd reached. Then it was back into the saddle again and down the FDR Drive. I tried to remember to wave to spectators, because we had a few, and I had to restrain myself from giggling at the sight of the cars coming from the other direction. "I AM ON YOUR ROAD! I HAVE FULL RIGHTS ON THIS ROAD! I AM NOT PAYING THREE DOLLARS A GALLON TO USE THIS ROAD!" is not a becoming sentiment, I'm afraid.
Satisfying in a weird kind of way, maybe, but not very becoming.
We bottlenecked again getting off the FDR and around onto the Queensboro Bridge, which was kind of annoying. I hate having to walk my bike. The bridge itself, though- wow. This was a SERIOUS bridge. This was a HIGH bridge over a BIG river. This was the bridge from Spiderman. That bridge. And here's me and thirty thousand other people, swarming over it on bicycles... I had a hell of a time getting to the midpoint, because bridges are just two uphills joined together end to end, but after I did the downhill was so sweet. Ride marshals were yelling for us to smile for the cameras (Bike NY had professional photographers taking pictures of people), but I was grinning because this was Queens, where I grew up. Also because the big Silvercup Studios sign was the first thing I saw and I remembered seeing the original sign go boom in Highlander.
We rode from there to Astoria Park, between the Triboro and the Hell's Gate bridges. I had to laugh more than a few times, because our route was through commercial territory, and I kept seeing cyclists who'd pulled over to go to Dunkin Donuts. Or to White Castle, or to Church's Fried Chicken. I don't know if they planned to rejoin the ride or what, but honestly, people- that's what after is for. Junk food is supposed to be motivational, not something that happens in the middle. At least I could tell myself Dunkin Donuts was a coffee stop, but still...
From Astoria Park we turned around and headed for Brooklyn, keeping to a road whose name eludes me. At one point it went over the Gowanus Canal, though, and that was our last serious bottleneck. This time it wasn't the bridge that was the problem. Someone had had an accident and wiped out badly enough to need an ambulance, and we were told first to walk our bikes, then to stop entirely and wait for the ambulance to take the rider away. I don't know how badly she was hurt, but they used an immobilizer board and she had one eye taped up (I was near the front of the group who had to stop). There was another accident later, but I don't know how many serious incidents there were overall.
From there we went through Brooklyn, again on a road relatively near the water, but whose name eludes me. Much of it was grubby waterfront business territory. Then it got into interesting businesses- shops and such- and then we got into Williamsburg. There were little Jewish kids watching us with their parents. Some of them were offering the riders candy as we went. It was terribly cute. The streets got really narrow at a few points, but the cops had enforced the No Parking
That is one mean highway. Aside from being under loads of construction and repair, it's just nasty to feel underneath you, and it's got two of the three longest hills of the ride. At one point on hill #2 I kept hearing music I didn't know. I was pedaling in gear 3 or so by then and when I drop below gear 4 (out of 7) I tend to keep my eyes on the road directly in front of me, but I kept looking around for the speakers. Eventually I asked one of the other riders if they heard the music too, and they did, which was a relief. If I ever have an auditory non-hypnagogic hallucination I'd like it to be for some reason better than 'owie, must pedal'.
Nice downhill, though, even if we did have to bleed off most of our speed to make the right-hand turn to get back onto the streets. We were headed through the everyday roads towards the Verrazzano, and there was one more vest check to go. Only those of us who had vests got to go over the second longest suspension bridge in the world.
Remember the bit about bridges being two uphills stuck together?
The main span of the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge is 4,260 feet. That would be the bit between the towers. Add in the rest of the bridge and you have 6690 feet of total suspended bridge... 3,345 feet of which is uphill. That's more than half a mile, at the end of thirtymumble miles of hard riding. I remember looking at it and letting out a tiny silent prayer- Saint Christopher, there is a river to cross- before I started in on it.
I got passed on both sides by people more used to this kind of thing, but I didn't really care. This was my first time over the bridge, and I was tired, and unbeknownst to me I was sunburned, and I was running low on iron because I was still in Bad Day To Wear White Trousers time. All I wanted was to get over that damned, damned bridge without having to get off and walk. I deliberately prodded one of the associated-idea clusters in my head that I use for RP'ing characters and spent most of the ride with a cranky English sergeant yelling at me in the back of my head, because damn, I needed all the encouragement I could get...
I'll tell you, though. When you get to the top and you realise your thighs are no longer working harder than your lungs, it's a beautiful feeling. And when you see people standing by the side of the road who have no clue who you are, but they're waving signs saying YOU DID IT and RIDE IT LIKE YOU STOLE IT, it is a magnificent thing. I made it across the finish line at 1:44 PM and rolled out of the way, shook out my hands, and made an incoherent call to my mother to let her know I'd managed it.
We still had three miles to go after that to get to the Staten Island Ferry, but that was fine by me. I got a souvenir jersey and pair of riding shorts, which I intend to wear this September- you see, I promised myself I'd do a full century ride by September, and Transportation Alternatives NY is running one on the tenth. Leave from the Harlem Meer in Central Park, down to the Williamsburg or Brooklyn Bridge, weeeeeee over to Floyd Bennett Field and up into Queens, out to Alley Pond, back to the Triboro, up into the Bronx, and then back to Central Park.
Gonna have some serious riding to do between now and then, I reckon. And possibly a bike upgrade, if I can get the Tempo from Dynamic.
.... yeah, I'm insane. But I can honestly say that I did forty-two miles under my own power despite sunburn and blood loss, and that's a thing, I think, to be proud of.
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no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 03:12 pm (UTC)Absolutely. That's fantastic.
I kept seeing cyclists who'd pulled over to go to Dunkin Donuts.
Reminds me of the 4th of July run I did last summer and a bunch of people stopped at McDonalds for breakfast sandwiches, and ate them as they ran. *facepalms*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 03:37 pm (UTC)I forgot about the big ball of fire in the sky, see. The prospect of being in the sun for five or six hours, without being able to turn over and deflect the sun onto another part of my arms or legs, simply did not occur to me. Now I have tan lines for everywhere not covered by a short sleeved jersey, a pair of mid-thigh bike shorts, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a pair of hiking sandals (I didn't wear sneakers for this).
BURNY. OW.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 04:12 pm (UTC)Ow, ow, sympathy ow, ow.
Aloe vera.
Ow.
And oh, you rock like a rocking chair carved into the Colorado Rockies.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 03:42 pm (UTC)I feel this motto can apply to many facets of life. >:)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 04:40 pm (UTC)*and skinmojo*
*and an icon that today is for YOU*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 04:47 pm (UTC)Kudos to you for doing it in the first place. You are an inspiration to me, at least, and to others as well I am certain. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 07:42 pm (UTC)Ow on the sunburn, blah on the blood loss, and have you considered investing in a really good bike seat (if you haven't already)? Or is that part of the bike upgrade plan?
no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 09:12 pm (UTC)Congratulations!
Date: 2006-05-09 01:54 am (UTC)If you wanna do a century I definitely recommend you get something with a few more gears. I've done them on my old Olmo 10-speed ex-racer, the spread between gears was probably a little closer than yours (criterium bike.) And of course the way to prepare for it is to get out there and ride!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-09 04:36 am (UTC)Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
*CHEERS*
Date: 2006-05-09 03:39 pm (UTC)You never fail to impress me with how you set out to do things and then now only do them, but do them with style and verve. *smoooooch*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-09 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-09 10:23 pm (UTC)2) Hearty congratulations completing the Five Boro. You deserve many pats on the back, or leg massages. You remind me I have to get back into riding form. :)