Most days when I take a ride I head north, pretend I’m in the country, and savor not having to stop unless I feel like it. But spring is in the air, as my sinuses will confirm, and with the seasonal allergies comes the desire to inhale the briny balm of the sea. And so this morning I deviated from my typical route and made for the nearest body of salt water.
I’m stupid, but I’m not as stupid as I look, and in choosing to live where I do I’ve widely situated myself adjacent to a park that is also the confluence of multiple bicycling paths:
From here I have my choice of all manner of paved and unpaved routes:
And in this case I headed deeper into the park and onto some of the lesser-known trails, where I soon encountered a party of grazing deer:
Back in November I was riding near here when a deer ran right into this very roadway and took out a Prius. Immediately upon seeing this group I had visions of them scattering into traffic on my approach and causing a massive pile-up with multiple casualties, and so I stopped in order to keep from startling them. Then, very slowly, I proceeded to move forward, at which point the deer–who clearly couldn’t give a fuck about me–just sauntered casually back into the woods. I even took a video with it, but WordPress sucks balls when it comes to uploading videos and it’s giving me more than the usual trouble today, so instead here’s a screenshot:
[Young buck doesn’t give a fuck.]
From there I picked up a dirt trail, and then proceeded beneath the Major Deegan Expressway, where I headed right into the light at the end of the tunnel:
And soon found myself in Gravel Heaven:
I’d have to do some digging to confirm, but I believe it might be the remnant of old road dating back to when what is now the Bronx was just a bunch of country villages.
Shortly thereafter I emerged from the park and found myself in the Irish part of town:
Don’t you hate when you’re wrapped up in your phone and you forget the baby?
Hey, we’ve all been there.
Directly adjacent to that is Woodlawn Cemetery:
Which boats a who’s-who of famous interrees. Here’s a random sampling from the jazz section:
It’s an A-list cemetery is what I’m saying.
In terms of New York City boroughs, the Bronx is geographically unique. It’s the only one of the five that’s situated on the mainland, and a river (an actual fresh water river, the only one in all of New York City) runs from north to south roughly through its center–the Bronx River, from which the borough gets its name. Now that the Bronx has all been urbanized it’s easy to forget the river is even there, but as you cross from west to east you can get a sense of the valley:
The river itself is under the street there, just past that traffic light.
There’s a bike path and greenway that runs along the river, and the section here was renovated not too long ago and is in very good shape:
It also passes a mundane monument that I know I’ve mentioned before in a previous post but am too lazy to link to:
It’s the extremely un-famous “Southern Terminus Of The Original Bronx River Parkway” monument. However, it is quite significant in that they started building the Bronx River Parkway in 1907, making it the oldest motor vehicle expressway in…I think the whole country? And by extension possibly the world? I could be wrong on that, but it’s definitely among the oldest motor vehicle highways out there, and in that sense sort of represents the beginning of the end, if you choose to look at it that way.
This is also at the heart of the fundamental contradiction of the Bronx: it has the most parkland of any borough in the city (in fact when they started annexing what is now the Bronx to the city it was first administered by the Parks Department), but it also has a shitload of highways running through it since it’s where the city meets the mainland and it links the city to the rest of the state. As a result, tunnels (like the one I just rode through earlier) are common in Bronx parks, and here’s another one under the Bronx River Parkway:
If you live in certain parts of the city you might have an idealized notion of “shared micromobility” or whatever you want to call it, but if you live in the Bronx you see the ignominious end which many of these conveyances meet:
But while the Bronx may have been sliced and diced like an overpriced salad at Sweetgreen over the years, you still get an occasional glimpse of its eponymous river in its more-or-less natural state:
I will generally go out of my way to enjoy this short path where you can pretend you’re in the the 19th century:
Though the illusion doesn’t last long:
In any case, after my detour I returned to the bike path:
Then headed west onto Pelham Parkway, which has recently enjoyed some much-needed attention from the DOT:
Pelham Parkway is among a number of ambitious roadways in New York City that incorporate pedestrian malls and parks; perhaps you’ve heard of Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn, which includes the city’s (country’s?) first bike path or something. Pelham Parkway also has a bike and pedestrian path that runs alongside it:
Plus, it features some of the finest architecture in the city, if not the entire Eastern Seaboard:
Behold, the Holiday House:
They say it has more cherubs per square foot than any structure outside of Italy:
And does your house boast an alfresco throne room with a camel on the top of it?
I’m willing to bet it does not.
Shortly after the Holiday House (where you’d probably lose a bike like the Faggin, so completely would it blend into the decor) the greenway once again becomes a two-lane dedicated path, though you must frequently cross highway on- and off-ramps:
Such is the unique mix of fully-separated luxury and abject “Holy shit they’re not gonna stop are they?!?” terror that is navigating the New York City greenway system:
But it’s in this part of the Bronx that the effect comes into sharpest relief, and I don’t know if you get a crazy cloverleaf of expressways and bike lanes like this anywhere else in the world, let alone the city–though they are doing an impressive amount of work on it:
Before long though you’re out of the Expressway Gauntlet and you know you’re more or less in the clear when you get to the four stone dongs of the Great Phallic Bridge:
…though it seems they’re currently being treated for erectile dysfunction:
And it’s here you get your first true taste of the sea:
I don’t know if they ever make their way over here, but one day I’m gonna see a fucking seal on that rock and I’ll be the happiest goddamn person alive.
Anyway, once you get here (have I switched from the first to the second person?) you’re in Pelham Bay Park, which has some smooth, undulating sections of bike path:
Here you’ll also find Rodman’s Neck, which is where the NYPD’s shooting range is located:
For this reason, wherever you are in the park, you’ll hear the oddly soothing Jiffy Pop sound of pistols firing in the distance.
Passing Rodman’s Neck, I continued on (first person again!) to the City Island Bridge:
You’ll often hear City Island likened to a New England village, which…no. I mean I love City Island, but I’ve never thought I was in fucking Rockport. Can’t people appreciate New York City’s beguiling beach and waterfront neighborhoods without comparing them to other places? I for one resent it.
Nevertheless, however beguiling it may be, I did not continue on to City Island. Instead I took an obscure little path…
…and finally stepped onto sand:
Some may see just a derelict boat:
But having spent my childhood on the similarly trash-strewn Jamaica Bay I see only the delightful and wonder-filled play places of my youth:
To this day I cannot walk a strip of beach without scanning every inch of it for treasures like exotic marine life and sea glass:
“Ooh, what is that? A mermaid’s purse???” No, it’s a packet of hot sauce, but in my nostalgia-fueled state of intoxication it was no less magical:
From here I continued along the path:
Which brings you (don’t worry which person I’m writing in, it’s really not important) to the Orchard Beach boardwalk:
Orchard Beach is a typical Robert Moses beach–outsized, and with an outsized parking lot:
Some days you’ll come here and find nothing but cars meandering aimlessly like so many Roombas, and you’re confused until you realize it’s like twenty dads teaching their too-young kids to drive. (Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that, teaching our too-young kids to drive is something we all do, like drinking in the morning at the airport.)
Orchard Beach is extremely lively in summer, but today it was still dormant, its great Moses-ian bathhouse still under renovation:
And its snack bar closed:
The only customer a limping tomcat:
Quiet and contemplative now, it will soon be bursting with activity and refuse:
And still I rode on, the clickety-clack of hexagonal paving stones shifting beneath my tires mingled with the distant popping of pistols from Rodman’s Neck:
Riding to the end, I turned onto what may well be the very finest gravel in the Bronx:
And to a point from which I could see as far as Long Island:
It had a rocky shoreline:
Which this sign confirmed for me:
Here’s more information for the Geology Freds:
Holy shit, I guess this is New England!
Nevertheless, contentedly I looked out at the islands, which re-kindled the Huckleberry Finn fantasies of my youth…
…when I spied a strange creature in the water. Was my day complete? Was it a seal???
No, it was a lone swimmer:
Not a seal, but almost as good. People who go open-water swimming in winter, people who ride bicycles…
…everyone thinks what we’re doing is crazy, when in fact it’s precisely what keeps us sane.
