I went on a deep woods bike adventure today.
All right...I took a little spin after work to this place:
I wished I'd had my regular camera. I did the best I could with my cell phone to capture the line of color on the rock ridge and its reflection in the water.
So where did I go?
My little jaunt took me to a virgin...OK, a virgin forest. Where?
Would you believe Manhattan? (You probably didn't believe there was a virgin anything there.) Yes, at the very northern tip of the island, there's a wooded area in Inwood Hill Park where trees have never been cut or planted. Take away the Henry Hudson Parkway bridge and the nearby buildings, and it's more or less the way it was when Peter Stuyvesant landed there.
I think it's one of those places best seen at this time of year.
In my next life, I'm going to look like this when I ride to work (or the farmer's market) at this time of year:
Sigh. Well, at least in this life, I can do a fall ride like this. In fact, I just might do such a ride soon.
In the ideal cycling world, I could ride through such colors and have the long hours of daylight we enjoy in May and June. And, oh yeah, it would all be located near a large body of water.
I don't ask for much, do I?
I live in Astoria, which is about as close as you can get to Manhattan without being in it. Here, there are people who own private houses but not cars. That arrangement may be unique, at least in New York City (if not the United States) to Astoria and, perhaps, parts of neighboring Long Island City and Sunnyside.
Some of those homeowners rent their driveways to Manhattanites. Some condo and co-op owners do likewise with their parking spaces. Some Manhattan drivers pay more per month for those parking spots than I paid for my first apartment in New York!
Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised: After all, real estate of any sort is in short supply, and therefore expensive, in the Big Apple. And New York drivers have long complained about the difficulty of finding parking spots: Indeed, I've heard some claim that in Hell or Purgatory, one is resigned to wander the streets of this city in pursuit of unavailable places to leave one's vehicle.
As a cyclist, I used to feel so fortunate to be spared from such ordeals. Note that I said "used to." These days, I sometimes have as much difficulty finding space on a parking meter, signpost or other immobile object--never mind a bike rack--to lock up my ride as any benighted motorist has in finding a place to leave his or her wheels.
I admit that, as someone who's had bikes stolen and damaged, I am fairly picky about where I park and lock. If I attach my bike to a meter or post, I prefer not to use the side closer to the curb: On more than one occasion, I've returned to my locked-up bike only to find that a motorist backed his or her rear wheels on the sidewalk and left me with a "New York Pretzel"--and I'm not talking about those snacks you can buy from a sidewalk cart!
I know that some parking lots allow bikes to park for a fee: In fact, I've used a couple of them. But could the day come when homeowners in my neighborhood rent out their spaces to Manhattan cyclists? And will such spaces cost more than I now pay for my dwelling?
