When New York's 24-hour, in-your-face exhilaration gets to be too much, head to the lungs of the city—the 843 acres of greenery that are Central Park. Rather than hiring a trap and sitting nose-to-arse behind a horse’s derriere, rent a bike. Around the corner from the Columbus Circle subway stop, rag-tag stands actually hire out sturdy bikes and maps for freestyle tours of the whole park. Go far enough north and you’ll even find spots of complete leafy solitude.
There is nothing like the thrill of cycling through a noisy city. Traffic is slow or moving fast. People are constantly moving at varying paces. You weave in and out of it all. Silent as a soft breeze noticed, but not engaged unless you choose to be. Then if the feeling hits you, take a breath, and move fast. Allow the wind to enter your ears while you; at top speed begin to see blurs of movement out your peripheral vision as your focus feels the fun exhilarating throughout your existence from the possibility of danger from lack of focus in a safe city. Ride on!
On your walk through Central Park a tunnel grabs your attention, inviting you to walk down into it and enjoy its solitude. You walk down the stairs and let the darkness surround you. On one end you see a well-lit path, and on the other, the stairs you've descended. You were already removed from the city's bustle when you entered Central Park; now you've taken one step further into your own private space. You have to enter back into the mayhem on one side or the other, and the city won't care which - it will be there to find you. But for just another minute, you can stand in the tunnel and be in a world of calm, and know that there are ten million people around you, and no one knows you're even there.
Swimming against New York’s multi-hued tide of humanity at Columbus Circle, the fountain’s traffic-muting song—the cool pattering smack of water on stone—called but I couldn’t stop. A few strides past vendors and buskers and I’d be in the deep green that lets Manhattan keep its sanity, Central Park. “Taxi bike miss?” asked a young man with a pleasant heavy accent. “No thanks,” I was walking this evening. “You must get tired,” I sympathized. With a smile that confirmed the thrill of the city and the promise of America he answered, ‘It is my joy.’ As the solace of cool shade and the meandering path ahead beckoned, I believed him.
Most New Yorkers steer clear of Central Park after nightfall, but thousands make an exception on New Year's Eve when they gather for the 4-mile Midnight Run, beginning near the 72nd Street entrance on 5th Avenue. Donning costumes ranging from New Year's baby get-ups (complete with diapers) to Statue of Liberty crowns, tipsy revelers prepare to kickoff the year in style. When the clock hits 00:00, fireworks boom in the distance and the racers begin their journey. A light blanket of snow captures the moonlight, casting eerie shadows across the pavement. At this hour, the park is seen from a whole new perspective, and is a true testament to the city that never sleeps.
When New York's 24-hour, in-your-face exhilaration gets to be too much, head to the lungs of the city—the 843 acres of greenery that are Central Park. Rather than hiring a trap and sitting nose-to-arse behind a horse’s derriere, rent a bike. Around the corner from the Columbus Circle subway stop, rag-tag stands actually hire out sturdy bikes and maps for freestyle tours of the whole park. Go far enough north and you’ll even find spots of complete leafy solitude.
Submit
Add a Comment
