One Person's Junk Is Another Person's Jump

I've taken more than a few rides that included the Concrete Plant Park.  I love that what could have been a remnant--a ruin, really--of the industrial past could be turned into a visually interesting recreational space.

The Concrete Plant Park could have become a dump, or worse. Such a fate has befallen too many other sites of closed factories and schools or abandoned residential and office buildings.  Instead, it's a place where folks like me ride, run or walk, or take their kids just to get them out of their crowded apartments.

Now I've heard of something that's perhaps just as innovative:  Using stuff that's been dumped to make a bike park.  That's what some folks in Colorado have done.  The result, aptly named Junk Yard Bike Park, is set to open on Monday, Memorial Day, thanks to Rocky Mountain Outdoor Center in Colorado Springs, near the entrance to Browns Canyon National Monument.  

The idea for the park came to RMOC owner Brandon Slate not long after he and his business partner, Ryan Coulter, after they inherited the Arkansas River site in 2016.  They started riding their mountain bikes among--and, in some cases, on--the junk when they realized the potential for creating "a bike park that will not only fill a local need but also draw people to RMOC to take advantage of the outpost's other features, such as its microbrewery, food truck and riverside setting."  

The site, they say, will include bike lines for cyclists of various skill levels,  a pump track and access to singletrack with mellow downhill sections and more technical drops.

Oh, and if you really want to have fun, you can drop from an old school bus or jump over a rusted classic car.  You can't do that in Concrete Plant Park, or any other salvaged post-industrial site I know of.

The Harvest Begins

The other day felt autumnal.  It wasn't just the cool, crisp air or the fact that I was in Connecticut.  I couldn't pinpoint exactly why I felt the fall had begun, or was well on its way, but I think I now know why.

Today the temperature reached 31C (88F), but the day still seemed autumnal.  Granted, we didn't have the sauna-like humidity we had during an earlier heat wave. But there was something else.  At first I thought it was just a feeling, but I realize now it was as visual as it was visceral.

Before going to work, I managed to ride by the Concrete Plant Park along the Bronx River.  I could swear I saw the first tinges of yellow and orange in a few trees:

And, because there is less daylight every day than there was earlier in the summer, the sun isn't as intense, and the ground and buildings don't have as much time to absorb the heat. So, while the air temperature climbed over 30C, the heat didn't feel as oppressive as it did a few weeks ago.

There's one more signal of Fall, for me.  My rides, whether to Connecticut or the college, seem easier now.  That is one of the things I've always loved about cycling in September and October, at least in years when I've done a decent amount of riding:  I can climb hills in a gear or two higher than I did in, say, April or even June.  Also, on my ride the other day, I was pedaling into a 20-25 KPH wind most of the way to Connecticut and barely noticed it.

Since I have never farmed (and probably never will), the kind of cycling I've experienced this week is probably the closest I will come to a harvest:  I am enjoying the fruits of all of the pedaling I've done over the past few months.

Concrete Sunset

On my way home from work, I took a detour through the Bronx.  As I've mentioned in previous posts, the borough offers some surprisingly interesting vistas--and short rides--not far from where I live.

And, as I've also mentioned in another post, one of my favorite quick getaways has become the Concrete Plant Park.  

 
All through the fall, and with the approach of winter, the park--and the stretch of the Bronx River that winds through it--remind me more and more of a New England mill town. 

Vera really seems to enjoy this sort of thing.

It could be that for a moment, she can imagine--as I do--that we are beside some old European canal or stream.

Even if we don't, there are still the colors of the sunset, which descends upon us early at this time of year.   

I hope that the city and state parks departments follow through on their announced plan to extend the riverside bike/pedestrian path up the length of the Bronx into Westchester County.

Train Tracks To Bike Paths?

Today was one of those crisp, clear, early-fall (though the calendar still says "summer") days that just makes me want to follow roads just to see where they'll lead.

In this case, I found myself following railroad tracks.  Oh, I've passed by or over them hundreds of times before.  But, just for fun, I decided to see how much I could follow them.

This one starts at the East River, and, within about a mile, passes under the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge of disappearing-bike-lane infamy.  It continues through along Newtown Creek, through a heavily industrialized area of Queens.

However, it's possible to follow it only for very short stretches.  Some of the land adjacent to the tracks is private property (factories, garages and such) that is closed off to the public.  And there are other stretches where the only way to follow the tracks is to ride on them. I've ridden on railroad tracks before--with a mountain bike.  

Apparently, the track is owned by New York and Atlantic Railway, which provides freight service on current and former Long Island Rail Road (Yes, it's spelled as two words!) tracks and right-of-ways.  One stretch of it--from about 43rd to about 58th Streets--seems to be used, at least on occasion, as it seems to be connected to another series of tracks and it's near UPS and FedEx terminals (and the Thomas' bakery!).  But other parts, such as the spur along Flushing Avenue and 56th Street, seem not to have been used in decades.

If New York and Atlantic indeed owns all of the tracks I've shown, I wonder whether they plan to use them.  As industrialized as those areas around the tracks are, there's still not as much as there was, say, during World War II.  And much of the freight is carried by trucks rather than trains, as there are highways nearby.

So...If NY and A doesn't plan to use the tracks, I wonder whether they'd sell, or even give, them to the city or state. If they did, I think the tracks and the adjacent paths and roads would make some great bike lanes.   I think now of the lane built by the Concrete Plant Park in the Bronx; I think something on a greater scale could be done with those tracks.  The effect would be similar:  Bike lanes that traverse some interesting urban-industrial architecture that takes on a unique beauty in the light of autumn foliage.

Ways To Go In The Bronx

For a short local ride, one of my favorite destinations has become Concrete Plant Park.  For one thing, I just love the idea that someone converted an old factory to a park.  Better yet, whoever conceived of the park was absolutely brilliant in actually incorporating the old machinery into a recreation area.

The concrete path you see is a bike/pedestrian path that is being extended along the Bronx River.  With the old cement plant on one side of the river, and some old brick factory and warehouse buildings on the other, the park feels rather like an old New England mill town, especially in the spring and fall.

What is also interesting is that every kind of transportation, except for aviation, intersects there:

Motorized vehicles are not allowed on the path.  But, just outside of the park and under the railroad trestle (where, if you look closely, you can see a passing New York City transit train) is the bridge for Westchester Avenue.  And, when I was there the other day, motorboats stuttered over the surprisingly choppy water.

I understand that the Parks Department plans to extend the path along the entire length of the Bronx River to Westchester County, a distance of about ten miles.  That would definitely make for one of the more interesting urban bike lanes. Actually, it already is:  We just need more of it.

After Work: A Ride To The Concrete Plant

What kind of person goes to a factory after work?  (No, I'm not talking about The Factory!)


Better yet:  What kind of person rides her bike to a factory in a skirt and heels?


All right, you know the answer to the second question.  And if you know that, you know the answer to the first question, too.


Today, after work, I got on Marianela and didn't give a thought to anything else besides riding home.  However, as they say in the old country, a funny thing happened along the way.  I made a couple of "wrong" turns but still ended up within a few blocks of my place.  But I wouldn't get there for another couple of hours. 


The next thing I knew, I was climbing the stairs to the concrete ribbon that parallels the Randalls Island-bound traffic lanes on the RFK/Triborough Bridge.   From there, I pedalled the asphalt and concrete maze to the Bronx-bound spur of the bridge, where I rode along the metallic-hued water and through a couple of parks that were more crowded than they normally are on a weekday, even at this time of year.  


Somehow or another, I ended up at the Concrete Plant Park.  I didn't object, even though I had no say in it.  You see, Marianela wanted to go there.  I don't take her on such long rides very often, but I know that her primary motive wasn't to stretch her downtube and spokes.  Instead, I think she listened to Arielle, Helene and Tosca talk about the rides they took there, with me.  Marianela knows that they're all really pretty in their Mercian paint color number 57 with white lug striping.  But she was convinced, I think, that she would look even better than they did by the old concrete plant:

She may just be right.  (Did I actually say that?)  At any rate, it is one place where, I believe, she looks good.

  

The Gates To The Concrete Plant Park

My ride today was positively perilous.  I had to wade through raging streams.  Worse, I had to fight off the dreaded Randall's Island Salamander.

Here, it (Now that I'm at a safe distance, I don't have to worry about riling it up, so I can refer to it as "it" and avoid all sexism!) is, underneath the Bronx spur of the Robert F Kennedy Memorial (nee Triboro) Bridge.  I guess now that Randall's Island's been getting fixed up, the Salamander can't afford to live there anymore.  The Bronx is still relatively affordable.

And I blame the Parks Department for everything.  They're rehabbing the island, and their work forced me to detour. 

I've taken a couple of photos underneath that trestle.  You've passed over it if you've ever taken Amtrak or Acela (Amtrak Customers Expect Late Arrivals) trains between New York and Boston.  It's called the Hell Gate Bridge.  I guess I should be grateful to the Parks Department for thinking of the well-being of my soul, and those of other cyclists, and preventing us from passing under the Gates of Hell.

Actually, the cost of travel might prevent me from seeing that Gate of Hell this year.  But the Gate under which I couldn't pass is, while not quite as breathtaking as Rodin's Porte de l'Enfer, actually lovely:

At least, I like it.  I also like something else I saw while riding through the Bronx on my way back from Westchester County:

Have you ever, in your wildest dreams or worst nightmares, ever imagined you would ride to a place called Concrete Plant Park? 

This plant operated from some time during World War II until the late 1980's.  It drew its water and power from the Bronx River, which parallels the path you see.  The path is not yet complete, though it is open.  

Those of you who live in New England might see something familiar in that park.  On the other side of the Bronx River are other plants and warehouses, some of which are still operating.  Their red bricks have absorbed decades, or even a century or more, of soot and rain and wind.  They, the the red-rust structures like those of the cement plant, and the river itself are bound by a number of bridges and other spans made from various combinations of steel and concrete.  I imagine it all would be even more attractive in October or November.

Quite a few people, including a number of families, were there today.  A couple of kids climbed the chicken-wire fence surrounding the old plant fixtures; you might have been able to see one of them in my photo. 

Speaking of boys at play, here's one, albeit a good bit older, flying his kite by Throgs Neck, where the East River meets the Long Island Sound: