The hotel room I woke up in was absurdly big. They’d upgraded me to a bigger room and it was larger than some houses I’ve lived in with a desk, a bar, another sink near the front door and separate bedroom. My bike sat over against the far wall and outside the window it was raining (again breaking the promises given to me by the weather man). I fiddled around with my drawing from yesterday for a while longer and tried to scavenge some healthy food out of the hotel breakfast buffet. I moved slowly to waste time but I was too excited to be on the edge of NYC. By 9am I was outside dripping some Muc-Off dry lube onto my chain before pedaling away in the light rain. 

Out on the trail it started out with more of the usual. Wide paved trail running through trees and protected from the ever growing sounds of traffic. When I crossed into New York City limits the trail suddenly had a dotted yellow line painted down the middle but there was no other signs that I was in a city. In fact I was amongst trees and in a park. There was a tangible yet unseen energy picking up though and a lot more people on the trail. I got a bit turned around by the trail signs in the Bronx but found my way by luck back to the trail. Rode under an elevated subway for a while with all of its piercing racket above, dealt with the first of many blocked by parked car in the bike lane and was enjoying the pick up in pace. 

Back on the rediscovered trail I followed a protected bike lane as I skirted the edge of Manhattan along the water front. There was joggers and other cyclists in increasing numbers. After so many days on my own on quiet trails I had to keep reminding myself that someone might be passing me from behind at any minute and to hold my line. There was no time to say hello to everyone. There was also an alarming number of people on motorcycles on the bike trail. Mostly gas powered scooters that would fly past from behind going 35 mph unexpectedly. 

The ride down the edge of Manhattan was easy and nice. Here I could see the roads snarled with traffic and car horns but the bike lane just cruised along full of an ever eclectic mix of trail users. I followed a guy huffing out miles on a time trail bike in full kit and in aero mode while a food delivery guy on the wonkiest looking e-bike converted to throttle controlled electric motorcycle sat on his wheel seemingly drafting him. 

The bike route to Brooklyn cuts across the bottom of Manhattan towards Brooklyn bridge. There’s no rules riding on the streets that I can see. I found myself at a red light looking ahead at a bike lane blocked by a bunch of double parked trucks. I guessed it’d be safer if I crossed against the light while there was no traffic to get a head start on the line of cars behind me like everyone else was doing when another motorcycle came flying down the side walk from right and bounced across the road near my front wheel and fired into a throng of people on the other side of the road. The police officers standing on the corner didn’t even lift their eyes at this and the crowd of people casually parted ways to make room for the bike as if this was the most normal thing you could imagine. 

I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge which now has it’s own protected bike lane down on the road way. I missed crossing up top but it was mobbed with tourists walking and vendors selling them things. 

I wandered some streets in Brooklyn and then pedaled through Prospect Park. I mentioned a few days ago that I feel like a passenger on a trip that my legs and bike are taking me on and never more so than today. On my pedal through the city more had happened in a few blocks than in the last 11 days. All I could do was observe it and laugh since it was all so new. Case in point was yet another motor scooter pinned and flying towards me on the bike road in Prospect Park. He weaved through some riders without seeming to be headed in a clear direction gave me a wide berth and I noticed the huge blunt hanging from his mouth. He was aimed straight for a curb. The throttle continued to sing its full gas song as he harshly hit a curb, got some air and swapped left and right through the grass. On the edge of a spectacular crash I assume he didn’t know he almost had the bike settled down and I lost track of him straight-lining and full-throttled through the grassy park. I looked up and a woman in jogging gear was vaping in a cloud of smoke as she jogged. 

I found my brother Kyle’s spot and dropped off my stuff. A little place but nice and comfy. Kyle took me on a subway journey to Soho where I bought some clothes and toothpaste. Said my goodbyes to Kyle and pedaled over to meet John Povah who was my old Etnies team manager for many years. He’s in town on a job and had an extra room and bed here in Brooklyn. John and I spent the evening catching up at a Kosher Sushi place we stumbled into and I ate veggie rolls. It was delicious, felt uniquely New York, and the company was good.