The George Washington Bridge		Training Diary: NYC-Dumont "Bakery Loop" Cinco de Mayo, 2001 Six-Thirty in the morning. Only, my body still thinks it's 3:30 AM. The alarm on my Nokia which I bravely set last night rings. Forty minutes later, I'm in my cycling duds, water bottles filled, standing with my bike at my side on the sidewalk on Broadway in Greenwich Village. It's too early in the morning to even feel proud of myself. I've done some mental preparation for the streets I'm about to face, so I take a deep breath, swing my leg over the bike, mount and roll off across town. The feeling is immediately exhilarating. I'm riding in New York, a town I've known, but see for the first time behind handlebars. How cool. *** Today, I joined a scheduled group training ride that meets at [Ulysees] Grant's Tomb at 122nd Street and Riverside Drive in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. As I warmed up my legs on the uptown ride towards Central Park along 6th Avenue, successfully negotiating early morning commercial vehicles carelessly parked on either side of the street and avoiding those grates and potholes, I sensed something had already gone wrong. Just five minutes into my ride, a puncture... rear tire. The culprit: a shard of beer bottle glass on the road lying amongst millions of other similar hazards. Bloody hell. This meant that I not only had to hustle when fixing the flat, but had to whisk uptown in order to meet the group in time for roll-out as well. I decided to simply use one of two spare tubes took along instead of patching the existing tube. A few minutes later, I began rolling again -- on a slightly underinflated rear tire, jamming through Park Drive West, severely paying for the booze I drank last night. As I exited the Park on the North side onto St. Nichols Avenue, one of my nagging fears became reality: another puncture... rear tire again! This time, a big ugly carpet nail that entered my tire at an angle, ripping a hole in the tire itself the size of a fingernail clipping (bad) and creating three gashes in the tube (really bad). No chance of using a patch here -- had to use my last spare tube. Had I punctured like that just one more time during the ride, I would have been so screwed. Thankfully, I didn't, but there were quite a few other puncture casualties along the route all day. Welcome to the world of NY bike riding. One particularly unfortunate rider, Jen, had to deal with two punctures today as well. Both times, I was at hand to provide some impromptu training as she had never fixed a flat before, let alone popped her wheel of her bike. She learned really well and fast -- way to go, Jen! And thanks for the tip on that awesome bike pump you had. Today's ride took us across the George Washington Bridge, into New Jersey. The route was called the Bakery Loop as the turnaround point was a wonderful French patisserie in Dumont, NJ. Would you believe -- I didn't even bother having any treats there for lunch? Talk about regrets! The bakery is owned by another training ride leader, who was off with another group that day. When in Bergen County NJ, stop by and enjoy the goods: LA PETITE PATISSERIE, 47 East Madison Avenue, Dumont NJ 07628-2417. Tel: 201.384.4140 Our ride leader today was T. Richard Corcoran, a member of Positive Pedalers, and a leader in the true sense of the word. We were also joined by three other NY based training ride leaders: Cristina Vaccaro, Joe Cohen and -- our fearless sweep rider, Jay Bond, who had tough duty today indeed. Get this. T. Richard smokes -- I mean tobacco, then up the hills on the bike (get it?). Granted, he smokes those natural American Spirits -- still, he must've had like eight smokes during the ride (well, during breaks anyway). How does one pull this off? Here's a testament to T. Richard's leader qualities: the standard safety and rules speech was much longer and more pronounced and explained than I've ever seen and the road rules more strictly enforced on this ride than the ones I've joined in CA. This meant strict adherence to stop signs and red lights, no exceptions to single-file riding. When it comes to safety, they mean business up here. I was also introduced to a new practice called drop and point, perhaps germaine to riding through more complicated routes around small Northeast streets. Dropping and pointing simply means you stop where the training leader tells you to stop and point the cycling group in the direction of the next turn. A drop rider stays in his/her post until the last (sweep) rider appears and gives the OK to proceed -- no exceptions. I dropped four times today, simply because I had the tendency to be up front a lot. At my first drop point, at the approach to the George Washington Bridge, I somehow didn't catch the attention of one rider and she took off in the wrong direction. One of the training leaders, Christine -- ever so vigilant -- took notice and gave chase, thank goodness. I confessed soon enough to Abby, they rider who missed the turn, who was so nice not to pick on the guilt I was already feeling. Ack... my first drop and I screwed it up! (So sorry again, Abby!) My longest drop took place in one of Dumont's turnabouts, where I waited about 20 minutes for the sweep rider to appear. Drivers circling the roadway must've thought I was trying to become a human monument with my bike or something. It felt like I was there forever. Turns out the cause was a flat and a mechanical at the back of the pack. Once again, Jay was patiently helping the last riders -- whattaguy. Five minutes after leaving the drop post, I arrived at our lunch stop to the brilliant cheers of about 25 riders who made it there before me. That was awesome. The course was not nearly as long, nor difficult as the typical training rides I join in CA. This is partially due to the fact that the Northeast AIDSRide is one month later than California Ride, so the New York training schedule is a bit behind compared to my own. My total mileage, including ride to and from the meeting place was around 45 miles. No real significant climbs, except for a steepish, mercilessly rough stretch of lunar pavement in Englewood, Booth Avenue, which warranted some serious cheers amongst the group who showered all with a fine show of moral support today. My first adventure in NYC riding continued on the solo return to the Village from Grant's Tomb. I chose to ride down the West side on Riverside Drive, cross town and the park on 79th Street, then head back down to the Village on Fifth Avenue, negotiating the madness of cabs, cars, buses, and weekend pedestrian traffic along the way. Charged with some adrenaline, I did quite well -- occasionally doing as Manhattan bike messengers do blindly, such as threading the needle between buses, picking the right lines between pedestrian traffic, dodging idiots who push a right turn in front of you and two lanes to the left. I rode aggressively but prudently. No incidents here -- just a safe arrival back in the Village, a shower to wash away the grit, grime and diesel accumulated on my skin, baked in by the hot sun. Tomorrow, I brave the streets one more time, but play with thousands of other bikers in New York's annual five-boro tour.
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