Park Alarm

Central Park has long been famous for its zoo, but today the Park itself is a zoo. It’s as if everyone were afraid to miss Autumn, as if this were the last day to catch it. Almost. Fall begins in two days. Meanwhile, the place is jammed. And who are these guys?

Isn’t Oktoberfest in October? Actually - as I discover later - they turn out to be right on time. Octoberfest begins today.

I'm on my way to join The Bromptoneers, a jolly band of Brompton riders, who gather at NYCeWheels for a weekly ride. I arrive at 85th and York as planned - then turn right around: we’re headed back to Central Park. I’m a little anxious about how we will fit into the already crowded scene there. This is the first sight to greet us upon entry at 86th St. Kind of wonderful.

Our guide, Jack reassures us that we will be taking it easy and off we go.

The bike path has every conveyance imaginable.

Bikes.

And bikes.

Scooters

Horse Drawn Carriages

Bicycle Rickshaws

Baby Strollers

Trucks

It's a hot mess.

No matter how many signs there are on the street, no matter what direction the crowd is going, there is always some fool (and his posse) who is going to try this:

Or this...

Oh, did I mention roller bladers?

Today too, there seems to be an overwhelming number of vulnerable pedestrians (including a lot of kids)

More than usual it seems to me. But maybe I’m just noticing them more. Because today, while the biking mood appears festive, there is a shadow over the bike path. No one speaks about it - they don’t have to. Just yesterday 58 year old Jill Tarlov was mowed down by an out of control biker, who swerved to avoid pedestrians at a crosswalk. She is currently on life support, and everyone on a bike today knows it. There is an increased police presence in the Park - Police are out with radar guns and handing out summonses - but that’s not it. I have never seen the kind of courtesy at cross-walks I am seeing today:

It’s as if there is a collective understanding that we’ve taken it too far.

The longer I ride, the more I cringe at the arrogance I felt in my first flush of freedom, as I rediscovered a childhood passion and connected with Lucille. The joy of being able to run away from a year of tragedy and drudgery, of breathing for the first time in 30 years, brought on a terrific arrogance of which I am now ashamed. On this blog, I referred to pedestrians as “Hapless.” Forgetting of course that it’s bad behavior on the part of cyclists that has made them so; that the moment I dismount my bike, I too am a pedestrian. And even if I don't…

We pass the turn off at 105th, and I realize we will be tackling Fiend’s Hill. Hooray! Fiend’s Hill is a tough-love friend if you bike in Central Park. It will tell you whether you’re in the shape you think you’re in, whether your state of mind is what you had thought it was, what the humidity really is, whether you brought the right bike. It’s a great barometer.

You can always tell you’re at Fiend’s Hill by this sight.

As I pass this crowd, I hear someone say, “That was great!” I feel sorry for her. She doesn’t know she’s only half way up.

And it strikes me that one of the reasons I’ve improved climbing Fiend’s Hill, is that I have the advantage of knowing just how long my struggle will be. Like a familiar adversary, Fiend’s Hill and I have sized each other up. Today, I am the master. But that could change if I don’t come here for a few days.

We round the southern end of the Park and I decide to leave the Bromptoneers when they exit at 86th – no point in riding back to the far East Side. I’ll do the loop one more time and take the subway home. We wave good bye as we go our separate ways, and it’s up Fiend’s Hill one more time.

As I come down the other side, there is a conveyance I haven’t seen in the Park: a garbage truck, towing a skate boarder (hard to spot but he was there).

This has to be a bitter-sweet experience for him (literally), but he's having a great time. And then I see this:

A reminder of the accident, asking the public for help.

New York has always been a dangerous city. And there are enough ghost bikes around to remind us all how dangerous cycling can be here. As cyclists, we’ve long been accustomed to thinking of ourselves as the minority. As potential victims. And certainly that’s an aspect of cycling in NY. But something is shifting in the Park. And it’s not because of Citi Bikes and rental bikes there – these are far too clunky to pose a threat to anybody.

My recollection of Central Park up to now, is that it was a sort of controlled chaos, but it basically worked if you kept your wits about you. Pedestrians had their numbers going for them, cyclists their speed. But now the number of cyclists has reached a critical mass and it’s threatening the balance. The tragedy that occurred two days ago never should have happened. And it simply cannot be repeated.

As cyclists, we've always depended on the kindness of strangers for our activity. If we abuse that kindness, we will be dealing with a word I am increasingly hearing, “Bikelash.” Already there are those who would like to take some of our privileges away (The Post is one of those).

As our numbers have grown in the Park, we are going to have to reframe how we see ourselves - no longer as the minority, as victims, but as a powerful and even dangerous contingent. And that means taking on the responsibility that power confers. Let’s see what happens.