The Bar at the End of the Cycle

In the picture to the left, you can see my bike, sitting tranquilly outside the large, friendly windows of Little Giant, a nice little cafe in the Lower East Side. Yet this post is not really about Little Giant, it's about what it took to get my bike there.

According to Google Maps, the shortest route from my house to this spot would have been about six and a half miles. To get there, you need to go through Park Slope and Downtown Brooklyn, cross the Manhattan Bridge, and then navigate through a bit of Chinatown. (Of course, the shortest possible route does not include riding under the Williamsburg Bridge, yet I managed to do that...)

Previously, I hadn't gone anywhere further than Park Slope, so my longest ride was likely three, maybe four miles. But I figured it was worth it to try and brave the wind and my out-of-shapeness to see if I could make it to Manhattan. And I did, and felt reasonably good about it. As a reward, I stopped at Little Giant for a glass of a very nice (and expensive!) French white, and some water, then unlocked my bike to ride back...and felt like my underwear had been replaced by 120 grit sandpaper.

I won't describe in excruciating detail the ride home. Suffice it to say that it was a very gratifying moment when I reached the high point of the bridge going home, and I was able to coast back onto Brooklyn soil. I did need to stop at Miracle Grill in Park Slope for a little more liquid fortitude, but I managed to make it home.

I'm not sure when I will next attempt a ride into Manhattan, but the views and the pride of achievement made me know I'll do it again at some point. Maybe after I invest in a cushier bike seat.