The Queensboro Bridge. There is no reason for this picture except that Timothy climbed the bridge twice every ride—his path to and from Manhattan.
Everyone gathers at the boathouse parking lot . . .
The leaders confer, well, by now there’s not much to say. The riders are all so accomplished and polished.
Part of becoming an A-SIG rider is looking tough. Yeah, everyone fold your arms and scowl.
Damon gives his final pre-ride address.
“This is your ride,” he tells us. This last day people can switch groups in order to ride with friends.
It took a few moments to sort out the groups but then we are off!
Double pace lines form automatically and we purr out of Central Park, our thoughts bent on grander, more far flung roads.