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Tuesday, March 5, 2024

New Exterior Column! And Extra! – Bike Snob NYC


In an ideal instance of the left hand not realizing what the correct hand is doing, Exterior are nonetheless publishing my columns, and right here’s the newest one:

Metropolis life and suburban life every have their relative advantages and downsides, however I’m eternally tickled by the Twitter urbanists who rail towards the latter whereas by no means acknowledging all the advantages they reaped from their very own snug suburban upbringings. (To be honest, not all Twitter urbanists grew up within the suburbs–the actually wealthy ones grew up within the metropolis.)

Talking of town, I rode via an incredible swath of it yesterday on the newly-fendered Homer, seen right here in one in every of my discreet relaxation stops:

I’ve received spots like this from the Bronx to the Battery, and sooner or later I’ll publish a quantity entitled “The Bicycle owner’s Information To Peeing in New York Metropolis.”

Whereas didn’t rain, at east there was a tiny little bit of drizzle, and I did purchase a thriller glop:

Is {that a} little bit of plant matter? A useless frog? A rat’s spleen? A heavy smoker’s lung cheese? Whenever you undertake a three-borough bike commute it’s anyone’s guess.

Anyway, for all my struggles yesterday, the fenders ran quietly with no rubbing–and the bike dealt with superbly, even with a full bag on the return journey:

I purchased some stuff in the course of the day, you know the way it goes.

However, at this time I wished to savor the feeling of unrestricted flight:

And so I headed out for a experience on an unladen swallow Kestrel:

Wearing my best Wabi Woolens:

Usually fashions get free garments, however I’m comparatively sure that after seeing that shot Wabi Woolens won’t solely refuse to ship me any extra jerseys, however may also demand this one again. (In that case the joke’s on them, I nonetheless haven’t washed it!)

So free and unfettered did I really feel that I flew proper previous all the favored Fredly watering holes west of the Hudson:

Then I hit the descent to River Street, solely to succeed in the underside and discover out…it was closed:

This meant I might both wait till Could eighth:

Or climb again up once more:

In fact, there was but another choice, which was to say “Fuck it” and simply preserve going. Nevertheless, if in truth River Street was impassible, I couldn’t danger having to backtrack since that would trigger me to be late assembly the college bus. Plus, the final time I ignored an indication like this I ended up regretting it:

So round I turned and again up I went:

As I climbed, I admired the mighty Hudson and the world well-known Yonkers waterfront on the opposite aspect:

I additionally marveled that in all probability one thing like 75% of the individuals who use Palisades Interstate Park are cyclists, and but they couldn’t put up a “Street Closed” signal on the high of the fucking hill.

I imply yeah, it’s potential I missed it, and it’s additionally potential it simply didn’t happen to them, however by far the most certainly state of affairs is that it did happen to them and so they mentioned, “Fuck it, let ’em climb again up.”

However, as a result of I used to be feeling sprightly I didn’t essentially thoughts the gratuitous climb. I did nevertheless thoughts having to take Route 9W the remainder of the best way to the George Washington Bridge, because it was a weekday and motorized vehicle site visitors was heavy. Alongside the best way I famous this signal within the posh enclave of Alpine:

I don’t know what they imply by that, I feel being a wealthy asshole from Alpine carries an incredible stigma.

Thankfully, I survived the North Jersey Site visitors Gauntlet and made it safely over the bridge and again to civilization:

Nearer to dwelling, I ended to select up some artisanal foodstuffs:

Getting again on the bike, I observed my tire was going flat. I briefly thought-about fixing it, however altering a tube over the past mile of your experience is like washing a rental automotive. So I rimmed it the remainder of the best way, my lunch swinging pendulously.

If a motorbike basket with a baguette in it’s quintessentially French, then a highway bike with a flat tire and a plastic bag dangling from the handlebars is its American counterpart.

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