Biking the apple

WEEK 23

I have been terrified by this week’s first since I came up with the idea: bike to work in Manhattan — my first time ever riding a bike in any of the five boroughs.

Step one: Plan the route. My apartment in Noho is about three miles from the office in Midtown, so an easy, short, flat ride. The trick, of course, is finding a route where I will feel safe and not die.

For the past several weeks, I’ve been obsessed with checking out bike lanes (not always where I need them), assessing construction (it’s everywhere) and observing the morning rush (chaos).

By car, it’s a mostly direct shot to work, heading uptown on Sixth Avenue. But after poring over city bike maps, I discovered that the bike lane on Sixth peters out quickly after Greenwich Village. Plus, I know from walking the sidewalks in Midtown, that it’s pure insanity at street level.

I then discovered a lovely green line on the bike map stretching nearly the entire length of Eighth Avenue — a genuine, dedicated bike lane. Although that route would be a bit out of my way, and require biking by both Penn Station and Port Authority, I decided less panic was worth the price of a few more pedal strokes.

Step two: Find a bike. If you’ve spent any time in Manhattan, it won’t come as a surprise that I opted for the Citi Bike bike-share program. The blue Citi Bikes are ubiquitous. I read on the site there are upwards of 12,000 bikes throughout the city, with more than 50 million rides completed since the program began. That does nothing to calm my nerves. I take a deep breath, sign up for the app and buy a single ride pass for $3.

Step three: Go. I awoke this morning visualizing my ride and thinking of reasons to abort the mission. But lucky for me, it’s a blue-sky day and 55 degrees. Ideal conditions and no room for excuses.

I know deep down my fear is irrational. People bike in Manhattan on every block, every day, at all hours of the day. And they survive. But there are days on foot that I feel lucky to make it across the street given the many cyclists and scooters careening the wrong way … oblivious pedestrians texting and wearing headphones … double-parked cars … busses … block after block of construction. The list goes on. In some ways, drivers make me least anxious as they too are navigating this pandemonium.

Since I’m writing this story, I did indeed make it.

I picked up the bike at Mercer and Bleecker around 9:30 a.m. and had planned to start right off disobeying traffic laws by biking the wrong way on Mercer Street for one block to get to West 3rd Street. But with two garbage trucks and a massive dump truck blocking traffic, I couldn’t make it. I ended up doing a mini loop east on Bleecker, north on Lafayette and then turning onto West 3rd.

My first pedal strokes were exhilarating. I scooted around two double-parked cars, crossed Broadway, wove between pedestrians, got passed by speedy bikers and made two left turns. All of this to arrive a block from where I picked up the bike.

Finally heading west, I decided to loop around Washington Square Park for a bit of practice. My bike seat was too low, and I kept attempting to brake with the pedals rather than the hand brakes. “You’re not on a beach cruiser at Burning Man,” I yelled to myself. It all took some getting used to.

In just a couple of blocks, I made the right turn onto Sixth Avenue without incident and then left onto Greenwich Avenue, which seems like such a sleepy street when we walk the sidewalks. Not on two wheels.

I quickly discovered that as I approached stop lights, I needed to thread the tiny space between parked cars on my right and traffic on my left. It’s not like I could hang back and block the way for other bikers. I also discovered very quickly that just as one walks through Manhattan in a continual rhythm against the lights when there are no cars coming on cross streets … so too on a bike. I had to keep with the flow — stopping might have caused a bike pile up of epic proportions.

Crossing Seventh Avenue on Greenwich I felt a flicker of confidence. “I’m really doing this.” One block later, I cruised right onto Eighth Avenue. There it was – a green painted bike lane stretched out in front of me. And there they were – bikes all around. It’s like I turned onto the freeway.

For the next 38 blocks my heart beat wildly as I navigated a whole lot of crazy:

• Do I hug the left curbside, or do I stay to the right?
• Gosh this bike path is narrow.
• Is that a motorized skateboard weaving towards me?
• Electric bikes fly by with deliveries.
• Now I’m being passed by a bike pulling a trailer stacked with giant crates.
• I stop at 23rd Street and get a nod from a fellow Citi Bike commuter with a satchel over his shoulder.
• Another commuter in a dress and heels!
• Crap, the sign says construction detour: here I go into the traffic lane for a block.
• I bounce over uneven payment.
• Screech to a halt when a car turns against the light.
• Pass a family of tourists.
• Curse the guy walking in the bike path.
• Does this thing have a bell?

And there it is, a most unexpected obstacle: a three-tier catering delivery cart — stacked high with coffee containers, cut fruit and bagels — being wheeled right down the center of the bike path for an entire block.

I docked the bike in the mid-50s and went the last couple of blocks on foot, with that wobbly feeling you get when you’ve been on a boat. When I arrived at the office, I was still amped and breathing hard. And exhausted – not from biking a few miles, but from the mental concentration and constant eye work. I kept my gaze fixed directly in front of me to process the traffic, obstacles and road conditions while doing quick peripheral scans for the unexpected. It was unbelievably challenging, and remember, I was in a dedicated green bike lane without speeding traffic or busses alongside of me.

Though no longer a Citi Bike virgin, I doubt I’ll cycle to work again. The subway sucks most of the time, but it affords a bit of mental check-out at the start and end of the day. We don’t get many opportunities to stare off into space..