So I was coming back from the Lower East Side biking home at 3am. Unromantically, I left my wife to take the subway because she didn’t bike. But the Queensboro Bridge bike path is closed. For construction. Like is has been on and off for a year. But instead of waiting for the bus or taking the subway I take the tram to Roosevelt Island because it’s nicer. Looking from the tram, there’s no construction on the bike path. Bastards.
Anyway, the good news is bikes are now officially allowed on the ramp by the parking garage on Roosevelt Island. Before you were supposed to take the stinky elevator. But the ramp was always more fun and not dangerous. Just another random “bikes are bad” thing. And what’s with pissing on elevators? I mean, if you have to go, and I often do, why do it in the elevator?
So between there and home, I saw a cut in the road. A standard two-foot-wide construction cut. But it wasn’t filled in. So I jump. Jump like my life depends on it. Luckily it doesn’t. Because my rear wheel comes down on the far side of the cut. My rear blinky light breaks off on the landing. Fetching that, I notice my rear tire is going flat as well.
I change the flat. But poorly so I have to ride with a bump in my tire back home. But because I use a cartridge, I can’t fix the bad fix (I real strike against the air cartridge system, because you only get one shot). But I do get home without blowing the new tire.
And in the two blocks between the 30th Avenue Stop and home, I see my wife walking from the train. All my problems, and biking still isn’t slower than a long wait for the N Train.