A Morning After

First of all, I want to thank all of you who sent your condolences and other thoughts over my mother's passing.

While pedaling to school this morning, I couldn't help but to think of her.  She was an early riser and often ambled by the canal behind her house.

The Bronx Kill, which ebbs and swells under the Randall's Island Connector, is not nearly as bucolic as the waterway in her backyard.  I guess it was the calm, and the softness of the early morning light, that made me think of her, again.

Or perhaps it was another early riser: 

Little Ricky Wasn't Afraid Of Me

No matter how well you know your route, you never really know whom or  what you'll encounter along the way.

During yesterday's commute, I encountered this:

"Ricky" (It sounds more gender-neutral than "Rocky") crossed my path, literally, under the Hell Gate trestle. If you've taken an Amtrak train between New York and Boston, you've ridden on that trestle.  The path leads to the Randall's Island Connector, which I take to the Bronx.

Since that path bisects fields and the connector crosses over the Bronx Kill, which connects the Harlem River with the East River, near the point where it meets Long Island Sound, it's not unusual to see animals, including the Randall's Island Salamander.  

What surprised me, though, is that when I stopped, little Ricky approached me.  Usually, when I see a raccoon, they dart away.  Perhaps nobody had taught Ricky to be afraid of humans--or to defend territory against them.

It took me too long to get my phone out of my bag, so I only captured an image of Ricky in retreat.  He/she was sooo cute (OK, how many baby animals aren't?) but I knew enough not to pick him/her up.  As the Parks Department reminds us, they're never too small to have rabies.

But, really, how can you associate someone so little and cute with something so terrible?  If I ever see little Ricky again, though, he won't be so little--and probably will've learned to be afraid.

Another Path For The Island

My daily commute takes me through Randall's Island.  It's a bit like riding through a large park, as much of the island consists of athletic fields and gardens.  

One thing about it is frustrating, though.  There are pedestrian/bike paths on the island, but they are not connected.   That means, for example, that when you descend from the RFK Bridge ramp, you could find yourself hurtling straight into the path of a bus or Parks Department maintenance truck because the path at the end of the ramp runs for a couple hundred meters before ending abruptly on the island's street.  And it's easy to miss the turn to get onto the path that leads to the Randall's Island Connector, the bike/pedestrian bridge that links the island to the Bronx.

Also, cycling is not allowed on the fields or, understandably, in the gardens.  So it's difficult, if not impossible, to go from, say, the 103rd Street pedestrian bridge to the Connector.

Well, it looks like at least one step is being taken to make the island more navigable for cyclists and pedestrians.  The Randall's Park Alliance has announced that it's received a grant for a new pathway to connect Sunken Garden Fields with the waterfront pathway by the 103rd Street Bridge.

While this will be a boon mainly to people living in (or cycling from) Manhattan, it is at least one link in what could become a system of paths that will allow more traffic-free access to more of the island.  

What is needed, along with that path, is one that transverses the island and allows cyclists and pedestrians exiting the Queens or Manhattan spurs of the RFK Bridge to access the Connector, and the eastern part of the island, without having to contend with buses and trucks barreling down, or traffic exiting the bridge.

One can hope...

Heading For The Kill

Most days, my commute takes me over the Randall's Island Connector, a car-free bridge that runs underneath the Amtrak trestle--and over the Bronx Kill.

Even though crime is at an all-time low in New York City, the Bronx Kill isn't the only "kill" in the Big Apple--or the Empire State. Before the English came in, the Dutch colonized this area, along with nearby parts of New Jersey and Pennsylvania, in the early 17th Century.  "Kill" comes from the Middle Dutch "kille", which means "riverbed" or "water channel".

So New York had lots of kills even before the Mafia started dumping their bodies in them.

Well, the organization J.Edgar Hoover didn't believe in probably wouldn't have left corpses in something so shallow as the Bronx Kill--even when it's full.  Sometimes the waters cover all those pebbly areas on the shore, and beyond.  One morning, the Kill actually flowed just a couple of feet (or so it seemed) below the bridge.

The Bronx Kill's flow has nothing to do with rain.  Rather, it's affected by the ocean currents, as are the other Kills in New York City.  The Bronx Kill connects the East and Harlem Rivers, both of which are misnamed because they are  tidal estuaries.   Like the Bronx Kill, they have no current of their own:  The direction of their flow is dictated by the tides.

Even with the water so low, I am glad the Connector exists.  My younger self might have ignored the junk revealed by the receding tide and hopped across while hoisting my bike. Or I might have gone looking for the Randall's Island Salamander.

A Microclimate Under The Tracks?

When I was in Rome last summer, I learned that during the centuries when the Colosseum was all but abandoned, so many species of vegetation grew in it that Domenico Panaroli cataloged them. 

According to some writers and chroniclers, all of those herbs and other plants created micro-climates within the Colosseum's walls.  I don't find that so difficult to believe:  Different parts felt hotter or cooler, depending on the sun, shade and wind, during my visit there.

My commute this morning got met to thinking about the possibility of Colosseum "microclimates".  For one thing, the lane I ride to the Randall's Island Connector winds underneath the tracks on which Acela trains shuttle between New York and Boston.  Those tracks run on a viaduct supported by stone arches that would not look out of place in Rome, or the ancient parts of many other cities in the Old World.

But, more important, I think I rode into a microclimate:

The remanants of yesterday's storm dripped, and rays of sunlight flickered, through the tracks above.  And I pedaled through the "rainbow" you see in the photo.  I didn't see another rainbow anywhere else, nor did any rain fall.  And the sky grew brighter as I neared the college.

Not Paved With Gold: Lined With It

We've had some insanely nice weather the past few days.  That's going to end late this afternoon or tonight, according to weather forecasts.  Rain will fall, but it won't be anything like what folks in Texas and Florida have experienced.  And it won't be accompanied by wind.

This morning's commute, though, was a treat:

Hell Gate doesn't seem so Hellish when the sun rises amidst the columns of morning.

From the dawn horizon, I rode the Randall's Island path underneath the Amtrak trestle (a.k.a. the Hell Gate Bridge) to the Randall's Island Connector.

Randall's Island Connector: The Bronx's new car-free link to Manhattan from STREETFILMS on Vimeo.

Legend has it that people emigrated to the US after hearing that streets in America were "paved with gold."  Believe it or not, such stories still circulate and entice the poor, the hungry and the ambitious to come here.

Of course we all know the streets aren't "paved with gold".  But, for a moment, it seemed as if the Randall's Island Connector was lined with it:

A good day has followed.

When You Can't See The Gates Of Hell (Or Hell Gate, Anyway).

My students are reading Dante's Inferno.  

As the narrator descends deeper into Hell, it gets darker. It's hard not to wonder how he doesn't stumble more often than he does.  I imagine it was more difficult for him to see when he passed through the Gates of Hell than it was when I rode by Hell Gate:

Yes, that is what I saw from the RFK Memorial Bridge while I rode into and out of showers on my way to work.  Somewhere in that mist are the Hell Gate Bridge as well as the Bronx and Westchester County.

When we started on Canto III--where the narrator and Virgil come to the Gate of Hell--I made a joke with my students.  "I'll tell you how to get to the Gate of Hell".

Then I advised them to go down the Grand Concourse, make a left at 138th Street (where the GC ends).  Then, they should go four blocks, take a right on St. Ann's Avenue, follow it to the end and take another left.  Pass under the RFK Bridge entrance and , underneath the railroad trestle (the Hell Gate Bridge), take a right to the Randall's Island Connector.  On the island, I told them, go left all the way to the water:  That stretch of the East River is known as Hell Gate.  

Most of my students don't live very far from the route.  Yet none realized that stretch is called Hell Gate.  And one student didn't even realize the post office in her neighborhood--the easternmost part of El Barrio, or East Harlem--is called Hell Gate Station (Zip Code 10035).

They think I'm dragging them through Hell in my class.  They are going to experience it only twice a week for a couple more weeks.  Me, I ride by it every day, on my way to meet them!

A Season In The Boogie Down?

My academic year begins on Thursday.  Today I rode to the college for a meeting and workshops.  

Through the Spring semester (which began a couple of days after a blizzard struck this city), I saw gradually-increasing numbers of cyclists on the RFK Memorial Bridge lane and on Randall's Island on my way to the college.  I saw a similar slow but steady increase in the number of bikes parked in the racks on the college campus, and along the streets surrounding it.  Those increases, of course, could be attributed to the warming weather.  

So, perhaps, it was no surprise to see more cyclists crossing the bridge than I've ever seen on a weekday.  Some looked like they were riding for fun or fitness, but others seemed to be on their way to work or some other obligation.  More than a few, I'm sure, were motivated by the the clear skies and mild temperature, and not deterred by the brisk wind.  Then again, that wind some of them across the island and bridge as I pedaled into it.  

It also wasn't a surprise to see only two other bikes in the racks.  No doubt there will be more once classes begin.  I wonder how many students, faculty and staff will continue to ride as the season grows colder, and possibly wetter.   Three subway lines stop right in front of the entrances of the campus's two main buildings, and four bus lines stop within a block.  So, I'm guessing that some of the bike commuters are "seasonal", if you will:  They use mass transit when the weather becomes less favorable for cycling. 



Perhaps the most interesting development I noticed is that on the South Bronx streets between the bridge (and Randall's Island Connector) and the college, I've seen more cyclists than I've ever seen before.   Some were riding the old ten- and three-speeds (Nobody calls them "vintage" in such a neighborhood!) in various states of disrepair--or with seats, handlebars and other parts that clearly are not original equipment.  You see people riding bikes like those all the time in low-income communities:  They have become basic transportation vehicles and, in some cases, beasts of burden that tow shopping carts or baby strollers piled with that day's shopping, or cans, bottles and other items that are being hauled to the recycling center.

I did notice, however, more than a few bikes that were clearly not being used for such purposes--and riders who almost certainly have never ridden their bikes in the ways I've described.  As we say in the old country, "They sure don't look like they're from around here."  I even noticed two people riding Citibikes, even though the nearest docking station is about 5 kilometers--and a world--away.

Will I see those non-utility cyclists in the South Bronx come November or December?  For that matter, I wonder how many of the riders I saw on the bridge or the island today will still be on their bikes as the season turns in "the Boogie Down". 

A Developing Picture: The East Coast Greenway

A decade ago, you could say that the photos you took during your vacation were "being developed", and everybody would know what you ment.

I thought about that one day when a student reported seeing a "One Hour Photo" sign and asked me to explain it.  Until then, it hadn't occured to me that a generation of young people is accustomed to instantly sending or uploading images from cameras and "smart phones" to computers--or other smart phones.  Those pictures do not have to be "processed", at least not by human hands.

When I was in high school, I learned how to develop and print photos in a darkroom.  For those of you who have never experienced the joys of such work, I will describe it, briefly.

A darkroom can be, really, just about any space that's big enoug for your equipment, has access to running water and, as the name indicates, can be sealed against light.  Even the slightest leakage of light--except for special blue light in the last stages of printing--can ruin the film on which the photos were shot or the photographic paper on which they were to be printed. So, all of the memories and imaginings you stored on rolls of film could be obliterated by the flick of a switch or the opening of a door.

(Old joke:  Dick and Jane  are in the darkroom.  Let's see what develops.)

First, the film immersing it in a tank of chemicals that converts or releases the substances in the film that store pieces (pixels, if you will) of the image.  The image emerges, if you will, but you can't see it because the film is in a tank and you are working in the dark.  But, later, when you print the film, you can see lines and shapes forming on the blank paper when it's immersed in another chemical bath after the image is projected onto the paper, which is photosensitive.  As the print is washing, you can turn on a "safelight" and see it emerge.  Lines appear and merge with each other, forming shapes of hair, noses, leaves, petals, wheels or whatever you photographed.

Yesterday, when I rode to Connecticut (again!), I felt as if I were watching a picture emerge from a blank slate, or paper, if you will.  Perhaps it's funny that I should use such a metaphor for a ride in which I didn't take any photos.  I'll explain.

Just over a year ago, on another Connecticut ride, I saw signs for something I'd never, up to that moment, heard of:  the East Coast Greenway.  When completed, it will allow non-motorized travel from Calais, Maine (at the border with New Brunswick, Canada) to Key West, Florida. It will include paths and trails through wooded areas and parkland (like the stretch through Pelham Bay Park in the Bronx), designated bike lanes that parallel main roads and quiet residential streets. . The first ECG symbols I saw stood at the end of the PBP trail, at the city line, and along residential Mount Tom Road in Pelham Manor.

On yesterday's ride, I saw some new ECG signs--or, at least, ones I hadn't noticed before.  I spotted them on my way back, just after I crossed the line back into New York State.  They led me along a series of narrow but lightly-trafficked streets that wound through a series of old churches and stone houses in Port Chester and Rye on the way to Playland.

I welcomed the "detour", if you will, as it was pleasant and relaxing--and took me away from Boston Post Road, one of the area's main streets, for a few miles.  Then, a couple of towns south, I picked up another (shorter) series of ECG signs in Mamaroneck, near the harbor and found myself pedaling down a series of suburban streets lined with houses and small sores down to New Rochelle.

And, after navigating the intersection of the New Rochelle DIner and the Home Depot, I picked up the first stretch of ECG I rode last year, from Mount Tom Road all the way (about ten kilometers) to the Hutchinson River Parkway Bridge.  From there, I zigged, zagged and wound through Bronx streets to the Randall's Island Connector.

It's not yet possible to ride a single unified greenway from the city to Connecticut, let alone to Maine or Florida.  But it's fun, in its own way, to see segments of the Greenway emerging like the lines on a developing photograph.  Perhaps one day soon, those lines will connect,  and the picture--the Greenway--will be complete.

The Arc Of My Commute

Yesterday, I wrote about seeing the cherry blossoms budding on my way in to work.

Well, my ride home included a different sort of visual spectacle.  Because I was carrying a lot (and was being a bit lazy), I took the new connector bridge, which is flat, to Randall's Island, rather than the steep, zig-zaggy ramp up to the Bronx spur of the RFK Bridge.

The connector passes underneath the Hell Gate viaduct--where the Amtrak trains run--and over the Bronx Kill, which separates the rusty but still running industrial areas of the Bronx from the parklike expanses of Randall's Island.

My commute may be only ten kilometers in each direction.  But I felt as if I'd experienced a whole spectrum of color, a wide panaroma of light and forms, on my way to work and back.

One Way Of Entering The Bronx

As I mentioned in a previous post, a bicycle/pedestrian connection between Randall's Island and the Bronx has opened.  It's actually very good:  It's well-constructed and makes a smooth transition to the pathways on the island.  Also, it's wide and closed off to motorized traffic, though there is a rail crossing--albeit one that doesn't seem to be used very often.  My only real complaint about it is that it's that most people would have a difficult time finding it from the Bronx side.

Still, I sometimes choose to ride up the walkway on the Bronx spur of the RFK Memorial/Triborough Bridge.  One reason is that it has a fairly steep incline, which adds a small challenge to my daily commute.  Also, while the new connector makes for an easy entrance into the Bronx, the old RFK walkway makes the entrance, shall we say, a bit more grand

and perhaps a bit more dramatic, even a bit Gothic, on an overcast day.   It's not exactly noir--more like gris, perhaps.  Plus,  you have to admit, there's something imposing about seeing a cross--or something that looks like a cross, anyway--as you are riding up to an arch.

Don't get me wrong:  I'm enjoying my new job, and the commute to it.  Truth be told, the part of the Bronx where I now work is more interesting than the part of Queens where I had been working.  And, oddly enough, even though I don't see a lot of people in the neighborhood riding bikes (a few of colleagues in my department and elsewhere in the college ride in), somehow I don't feel as conspicuous as I did at my old job, where practically nobody rode.  And I couldn't make the kind of entrance I make when I pedal up that ramp into the Bronx!

It's Here: The Randall's Island Connector!

OK, I won't be sarcastic. Or snarky. I'll even try to dispense with irony. (Actually, if you're trying, it isn't irony anyway.)  I'll be appreciative, maybe even polite and respectful, too. 

But, I must admit, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You see, something I never thought would happen in my lifetime came to pass.  No, I'm not talking about $200-a-month apartments on the Upper East Side.  Or a sale at Sotheby's.  Or that Congress will pass legislation banning the production of any new movie with "Ocean's" in the title--or any sequel or remake. Or that gender theorists will stop using any form of the word "performative".

So what is this epochal event to which I'm referring?

 

 

The bicycle/pedestrian bridge from Randall's Island, a.k.a the Randall's Island Connector (catchy, isn't it?) to the Bronx has just opened.   I used to joke that it's been under construction ever since the island (and the rest of North America) split off from Pangaea.  All right, that's an exaggeration.  But it did seem to take longer to build than Stonehenge or the Great Wall of China. 

 

So, of course, I just had to cross it, just to be sure that I wasn't having a flashback from something I don't remember taking.

It spans the Bronx Kill between the island and 132nd Street, just a couple of blocks east of where the RFK Bridge bike/pedestrian lane enters the Bronx.  What makes this new bridge better is that it's flat, lets pedestrians and cyclists off in a less-trafficked area than the RFK Bridge does and has much better sight lines.

 

 

Interestingly, it has a grade-level railroad crossing on the Bronx side. If the bridge is ever shut down for a passing train, it could take a while to open:  The bridge enters, and the train tracks cut through, an industrial area and trains can be more than a 100 cars long.  Just as interestingly, the bridge runs underneath an Amtrak trestle.  The effect is enigmatic:  like being in an open-air (at the sides) tunnel.

I wonder whether the RFK Bridge lane will be kept open.  Even though it has a rather steep ramp with sharp turns and is rather squalid, it's better to have it as an option if, indeed, one has to wait an hour for a train to pass through the Bronx side of the new bridge.  Plus, this is one bike lane that purely and simply makes sense, a trait not shared by many other bike and pedestrian lanes.

I know, I said I wouldn't be sarcastic. Or snarky.  Oh, well.  I tried.

Will We Finally Cross That Bridge?

You've been waiting and waiting for it.  Whoever's responsible for it tells you to wait "just a little longer".  A New York minute, a Biblical day, or a geologic era (or error)?   "Just a little more time," you're told:

That's what the Department of Transportation has been telling us ever since the early Jurassic period, when Randall's Island was formed.  They've been promising a bicycle-pedestrian bridge from the Island to the Bronx. A posted sign said the bridge would be done in the Fall of 2013.  Then a digit was changed.  Then another.  Then the season.  What's an ice age or two when you're waiting for something you can really use, right?

To be fair, it is indeed possible to use the pedestrian walkway on the Bronx spur of the RFK-Triborough Bridge.  That path is steeply inclined--which I don't mind, as I can use the climbing practice.  But it also zigs and zags, which makes for very poor sight lines.  I am amazed that there aren't more accidents, especially involving cyclists, skaters or skateboarders coming from the Bronx to the Island, i.e. going down the slalom.

The bridge that's been in the works ever since the Randall's Island Salamander first crawled out of the Bronx Kill would, at least, give clearer sightlines, not to mention make it easier to pedal to and from the Bronx:

What's that I saw today?  People actually working on the bridge?  And could it be that they've actually laid something like a foundation for the path over the rows of pipes and girders that have lain across the creek ever since, oh, about the time Laurasia broke apart.

Could it be that we'll actually have the bridge before the cash bundles from Manhattan collide with empty lots in the Bronx and give rise to condominium and office towers? 

Could it actually open during--dare I say it--our lifetimes?  Or maybe an evolutionary period or two later?

One can only hope.

Pathway To The Gate of Hell

We've all heard expressions like "Highway to Hell" and "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions".

I couldn't help but to think about them as I rode through Randall's Island yesterday.  A bike lane recently opened, connecting the Fire Academy with the Bronx spur of the RFK/Triborough Bridge--and the foot/bike bridge that seems to have been under construction since a time before Randall's Island or the Bronx even existed!

The bike lane has one of my favorite names:

"Hell Gate Pathway?"  Can you beat it?  I mean, haven't you always wanted to ride my bike to the Gate of Hell?


Actually, I have ridden to the Gates of Hell--during at least two of my trips to Paris.  Of course, you can't wheel your velocipede right up to Rodin's masterpiece.  But you can ride to the museum and walk up to his gates.

I'm dying (pun intended) to do that again, soon.  But for now, the path I rode yesterday and my imagination will have to keep me content.

 

Are They Finally Getting Somewhere With This Bridge?

In an earlier post, I alluded to a bike/pedestrian bridge under construction--for aeons, it seems--between Randall's Island and the Bronx.


Actually, saying it's been "under construction" isn't quite accurate.  Perhaps it was at one time--say, around 2009--but for the past few years it's been frame surrounded by a chicken wire fence that serves mainly as platform for signs claiming that it's undergoing an environmental review.


The problem is that the land on the Bronx side is part of the Harlem River Yards.  The State Transportation Department owns the Yards, but leases them to developer Harlem River Yards Ventures, which in turn leases parts of it to other companies. (Where else but in New York, right?)

Well, now it seems that some of those companies gave easements to the state and, when I rode by the site this morning, construction of some sort was going on.





I hope...I hope...I hope.


Even though the project is still behind schedule, it's still being done in a more timely fashion--and with much smaller cost overruns--than the Second Avenue Subway.  Nothing like a little perspective, right?