The Palisades

It can be risky to ride alone, and I’m facing one of those rides. My riding partner L, is out of town, but the season won’t wait: flurries are predicted in a few days and I want to ride the Palisades while I still can. It's a 42-mile round trip, and I'm aware that I am foolishly unprepared for the most likely emergency: a flat.

Even with a road bike like Janet, getting a flat is no big deal if I’m in Central Park. But in the Palisades, I’ll really be on my own. I don’t have a spare tube, I won’t be carrying a pump and I don’t know how to repair a flat anyway (keep showing up for classes which are invariably canceled). Since it’s a weekday, cyclists will be fewer, and I’m terrified I’ll find myself walking for miles back to civilization (and perhaps not ever getting there). Well that’s enough to keep a girl from getting out of bed.

But I still want to go. I've played it safe all my life. If breast cancer and death have taught me anything in the last year, it's that all we have is the moment; and although my fear is a real one, I can't let it stop me. I’ve been told that the last mile of this hilly route consists of a monster hill, known as “The Beast.” I am determined to tackle it. At 9:10, I am out the door, hoping new tires, and a little bit of luck, will see me through. I bring a patch kit for what it's worth.

Up the Hudson we ride. It’s misty over the water – I can hardly see the GWB.

But as I proceed up the Greenway, another concern becomes more pressing: I realize if I don’t release my morning coffee I won’t be going anywhere (I thought I’d done this). I recall some strategically placed Porta-Potties along this stretch.

It’s a sign of my desperation that I'm even thinking like this. It's not just the notion of girly hygiene I have to overcome. This is a place where someone could easily walk off with Janet while I am otherwise occupied. If I were in the market for a bike, I’d stake out these toilets. I have no lock (never meant to have a bike that needed one, and don’t want the weight on a ride like this). But desperation wins over; I roll her around the back and try to be as speedy as possible.

It’s a brilliant (if lucky) decision that bodes well, and makes the rest of the ride possible. Janet is waiting for me, and off we go.

I decide to take the Greenway past the Little Red Light House so I can try those inclines again (especially the last one).

First the one:

That goes well.

And then the other.

Well, I’m standing on the pedals, but I actually make it up with more confidence this time, and no wobbling – good!

The Bridge is as glorious as ever. It’s Veterans day and a huge flag hangs from the arch on the Jersey side.

 I peek over the railing and look at the path I will be riding.

The bike path lets me off in Jersey.

I round this corner...

And follow it on the sidewalk against the flow of traffic.

Until it widens out nicely. Making a pleasant descent.

I got as far as this a couple of days ago, and worried I wouldn’t make it back up, but it’s easier than it seems.

After a couple hundred yards, I make a left between the stanchions into the park entrance (Henry Hudson Drive). Am relieved to see other cyclists making the trip.

Fall is just passing its prime here, still wonderful.

I pass beneath the Bridge which somehow feels as monumental as going over it. 

To be this close to such a magnificent structure is itself a thrill. And now I’m on the path I saw from above.

I continue descending until I reach a roundabout. There are three of these, and at each one I stay to the left.

Here is the first one:

After this, there is a healthy climb till I reach this little out building.

Stay to the left. Another climb to the second roundabout.

Moderate climb to the third roundabout (the way in is mostly climbs)...

And then The Beast begins. At 6 miles in, it is an unremitting mile of ascent. I am advised to gear down and pace myself. Since I do not know this particular adversary, I don’t push it. Lots of people pass me, but I’m fine with that. For the moment my priority is just getting there.

Alas, my camera battery is out of juice and the back up isn’t working, but here is the destination when I finally arrive thanks to my phone (yes I made it).

I speak to a couple of cyclists who have just made the trip, about the best way back. Many people choose Route 9, but even though it has a shoulder and is more of a straight shot, it has traffic which I’d just as soon avoid. I am congratulated on having made it up, “Especially with that bike.”

And there it is: they’ve dissed Janet. They’ve spotted that she is not carbon fiber. From there the conversation goes right to “clipping in” as the only way to ride; dropped handle bars being smarter (all of which may be true). And I know the further into cycling I get, the more I’ll find myself up against US bike culture and its opinions - where everyone is a professional (even though no one is) and everyone and dresses and rides as if the Tour de France were a daily occurrence. But I’m not interested in being a professional. I got into cycling for mental rest. Just how far I want to be involved with this culture is something I still ask myself. I am proceeding ride by ride.

I’ve done plenty of research on clipping in btw. What I’ve learned is that falling is part of the learning curve. Falling. I have osteoporosis. I shouldn’t even be on a bike. If this is a part of the learning curve, it’s a part I can’t afford. As for dropped handle bars well, talk to me in a year. Right now I have no use for them. I like sitting upright, I like seeing the view. If I had my druthers, I’d ride a chopper with handle bars above my ears. That said, I’m not sure I would have made it up The Beast on a contraption like that...

After a brief rest, I turn around. My helmet camera isn’t working, but my phone camera does a better job really (as long as I stop to get the pictures). Here are some photos of the way back.

The return leg of an unfamiliar ride always seems like a shorter trip. Even so, it’s on the flip side that I realize I am mostly coasting. 

Until the last ascent, riding back to the now familiar entrance of the GWB:

And a view I doubt I will ever tire of.

From the Greenway, I can see the fog has lifted.

I’m glad I made this ride while I could, though I missed L who would have loved it (she's done it before). For now I can say I’ve ridden The Palisades – and conquered The Beast. But things could have gone very differently and I’m not pushing my luck any further. Tomorrow first thing, I head over to Zen bikes for a spare tube, and a brief lesson on fixing a flat.