Day 1:
I had a few days completely free before I started yet another job, but they were quickly filled with friends and Halloween festivites. Alas, I was having too great a time to really pursue a bike ride to my lot like I originally planned. In my most determined phase, I decided I would only sleep 20 minutes while my phone charged, and then start biking at 1:00 am. I dreamed I had slept the entire day, so was relatively pleased to find I'd only overslept by seven hours, and instead of hating myself for that, I left the apartment and rode as far as I could. The Hudson River Greenway is so pleasant. Parts of it are like a small town square in the fall, and others are what I imagine humankind's survival mission spaceship would look like once Earth collapsed; organic and post-apocalyptic. I'm sure Google maps gave me fine instructions, but I still rode into the wrong lane on the George Washington bridge, and traffic got worse when I turned back. Take two: The bike lane on the GW is fine, but very thin. I find the first of many nice cyclists, one of whom tells me to raise my seat for the sake of my knees, which still hurt. I wander aimlessly on the other side, until I give this website a closer read (also saved me with the bridge situation) and realize I could reach Piermont and get back in time for dinner. I stick a few horse apples in my bag and start on the 9W. People are so nice, two of them said good morning as they rode past me, and everyone did pass me, as I was the slowest rider. Another difference, one that got many grins, was my attire. Everybody else on the road wore tight bike suits, fancy sneakers, had bike wheels the width of my finger, and there was just spandex everywhere. I wore my plaid flannel shirt and striped Christmas leggings for warmth and tied my hoodie around my pink Walmart sack for support. I wore the same bright orange helmet from middle school, and light blue bubblegum shoes. I looked like a teenage runaway. Whatever, when I got to Piermont, those fancy cyclists complimented me, said what I did was crazy in the nicest way. I gave up, because it was an uphill bike almost all twelve miles to the bridge, and fell asleep on the coach bus home. A passenger announced the last stop so that I didn't get confronted by the driver, PEOPLE CAN BE SO NICE.
I had a few days completely free before I started yet another job, but they were quickly filled with friends and Halloween festivites. Alas, I was having too great a time to really pursue a bike ride to my lot like I originally planned. In my most determined phase, I decided I would only sleep 20 minutes while my phone charged, and then start biking at 1:00 am. I dreamed I had slept the entire day, so was relatively pleased to find I'd only overslept by seven hours, and instead of hating myself for that, I left the apartment and rode as far as I could. The Hudson River Greenway is so pleasant. Parts of it are like a small town square in the fall, and others are what I imagine humankind's survival mission spaceship would look like once Earth collapsed; organic and post-apocalyptic. I'm sure Google maps gave me fine instructions, but I still rode into the wrong lane on the George Washington bridge, and traffic got worse when I turned back. Take two: The bike lane on the GW is fine, but very thin. I find the first of many nice cyclists, one of whom tells me to raise my seat for the sake of my knees, which still hurt. I wander aimlessly on the other side, until I give this website a closer read (also saved me with the bridge situation) and realize I could reach Piermont and get back in time for dinner. I stick a few horse apples in my bag and start on the 9W. People are so nice, two of them said good morning as they rode past me, and everyone did pass me, as I was the slowest rider. Another difference, one that got many grins, was my attire. Everybody else on the road wore tight bike suits, fancy sneakers, had bike wheels the width of my finger, and there was just spandex everywhere. I wore my plaid flannel shirt and striped Christmas leggings for warmth and tied my hoodie around my pink Walmart sack for support. I wore the same bright orange helmet from middle school, and light blue bubblegum shoes. I looked like a teenage runaway. Whatever, when I got to Piermont, those fancy cyclists complimented me, said what I did was crazy in the nicest way. I gave up, because it was an uphill bike almost all twelve miles to the bridge, and fell asleep on the coach bus home. A passenger announced the last stop so that I didn't get confronted by the driver, PEOPLE CAN BE SO NICE.
Day 2:
I miss my bike when I have to take public transportation to Port Authority, and hug it when we are reunited in Piermont. What started out as an offensively sunny and warm day quickly turns into a stormy, leaf-swirling affair; completely appropriate for a pre-Halloween adventure, but it means rain is soaking through my plastic poncho and going up my nose while I bike. And then. Then I find myself facing this massive rocky protrusion at the end of a line of old mansions, with clouds settled on its peaks almost occluding the quiet glow of the changing leaves. Welcome to Nyack Beach State Park.
I miss my bike when I have to take public transportation to Port Authority, and hug it when we are reunited in Piermont. What started out as an offensively sunny and warm day quickly turns into a stormy, leaf-swirling affair; completely appropriate for a pre-Halloween adventure, but it means rain is soaking through my plastic poncho and going up my nose while I bike. And then. Then I find myself facing this massive rocky protrusion at the end of a line of old mansions, with clouds settled on its peaks almost occluding the quiet glow of the changing leaves. Welcome to Nyack Beach State Park.
Half my time is spent along the water, and the rest takes me through the woods. I ran into one person the whole trip. The remains of old stone houses sporadically appear along the path, and I belong with these trees, and we are all in the same fairytale. If I hadn't seen an episode of Ghost Adventures the night before, about menacing park demons, I might've wanted to stay. I made it to the other side, possession-free, only to find the ferry does not run on weekends, so I wait in the parking lot for a car service. It is still raining, it is night, there is a white-haired man driving around the lot in a car with patriotic bumper stickers (I found out the next day he works on the boat, he's really nice). The car comes, it smells like fall scents air freshener, and it's so warm! This comfort comes to a quick end when I try to get to Walgreens while waiting for bus, only to find the station is trapped between the highway and a stream. I walked into a few dark thickets and along the road before submitting to shivering with my iPhone.
Day 3: HALLOWEEN!
I finish my costume, and take the train with my mom up to the ferry to fetch my bike. I try to get some trick-or-treating done in Haverstraw, but I don't know what the hours are or which stores have candy. Most of my chocolate fix came from the ChocaLaLa milk I bought. The Halloween spirit picks up on Main St. in Ossining, with a trunk-or-treat gathering and Italian disco-dancing monsters. By Croton-on-Hudson I'd given up on the candy, so we wander around Goodwill and ShopRite until it is time for THE GREAT PUMPKIN BLAZE!!!!! It's about the closest thing I have to my fantasy of living in Halloweentown.
Day 3: HALLOWEEN!
I finish my costume, and take the train with my mom up to the ferry to fetch my bike. I try to get some trick-or-treating done in Haverstraw, but I don't know what the hours are or which stores have candy. Most of my chocolate fix came from the ChocaLaLa milk I bought. The Halloween spirit picks up on Main St. in Ossining, with a trunk-or-treat gathering and Italian disco-dancing monsters. By Croton-on-Hudson I'd given up on the candy, so we wander around Goodwill and ShopRite until it is time for THE GREAT PUMPKIN BLAZE!!!!! It's about the closest thing I have to my fantasy of living in Halloweentown.