Yesterday I managed to slip out for a ride before meeting a friend for dinner and to watch the fireworks.
So what, exactly, did I have to escape from in order to get on my bike? Well, none other than Max and Marlee. Who says humans are the only creatures who don't know how to let go?
Anyway, I had no particular destination in mind. Perhaps the only real intention I had was to avoid beach areas, because I knew that they were crowded. That turned out to be a good choice: I had most of the Queens and Brooklyn streets to myself!
I did find myself just up the street (Rockaway Parkway) from the Canarsie Pier. But I didn't go to the pier because it was packed with families and other groups cooking burgers, 'dogs and chicken wings on little grills. Everything smelled good, even mixed with the aromas of beer and other kinds of alcohol.
So, I made a U-turn and pedaled through a soundscape of liliting Caribbean music and accents along Canarsie side streets, and along Rockaway Avenue (almost traffic-free) to Brownsville, Ocean Hill and Bedford-Styvesant--areas of Brooklyn hipsters and gentrification still haven't found (though that could change very, very soon!). Soon, I found myself in the tatoo capital of the Western world--Wilson Avenue in Bushwick. There, I stopped at a shaved-ice cart, where I asked the man to make me a cone (paper) of ice con citron y cereza--with lemon and cherry syrups.
I actually wante that cone. But buying it was also a pretext for talking to the man about his cart.
He says he made the cart, and attached the bicycle, himself. It's easier and faster to move that way than it is to push the cart around while on foot. Also, he doesn't have to worry about parking, as he would if he were driving the cart.
And, yes, that ice hit the spot.
So what, exactly, did I have to escape from in order to get on my bike? Well, none other than Max and Marlee. Who says humans are the only creatures who don't know how to let go?
Anyway, I had no particular destination in mind. Perhaps the only real intention I had was to avoid beach areas, because I knew that they were crowded. That turned out to be a good choice: I had most of the Queens and Brooklyn streets to myself!
I did find myself just up the street (Rockaway Parkway) from the Canarsie Pier. But I didn't go to the pier because it was packed with families and other groups cooking burgers, 'dogs and chicken wings on little grills. Everything smelled good, even mixed with the aromas of beer and other kinds of alcohol.
So, I made a U-turn and pedaled through a soundscape of liliting Caribbean music and accents along Canarsie side streets, and along Rockaway Avenue (almost traffic-free) to Brownsville, Ocean Hill and Bedford-Styvesant--areas of Brooklyn hipsters and gentrification still haven't found (though that could change very, very soon!). Soon, I found myself in the tatoo capital of the Western world--Wilson Avenue in Bushwick. There, I stopped at a shaved-ice cart, where I asked the man to make me a cone (paper) of ice con citron y cereza--with lemon and cherry syrups.
I actually wante that cone. But buying it was also a pretext for talking to the man about his cart.
He says he made the cart, and attached the bicycle, himself. It's easier and faster to move that way than it is to push the cart around while on foot. Also, he doesn't have to worry about parking, as he would if he were driving the cart.
And, yes, that ice hit the spot.
