I sat in the airport at a 6:50 in the a.m. and watched while a middle aged man, his wife, and the man’s mother argued with the women at the gate why they had not been informed that their flight had left with out them. I was amazed at the collective nature with which the airway employee handled the situation. Her name was Julie, they asked, amidst the morning melodrama. I did recall a name associated with a “final call for boarding” while I played on my laptop, Canton-Akron provides the service of Internet free of charge.
“We have been sitting here since 6:30” he shouted while his wife and mother talked over top of him. In a huff, he turned on his heels and paced down terminal. The oldest of the three fanned herself and flustered over the incident, mumbling about a heart condition. The woman at the counter, well you now know her to be Julie, continued to remind them that she had made the announcement multiple times. Clusters of other soon to be passengers nodded among themselves in agreement that Julie had in fact made this broadcast.
Finally a few security guards came and explained them that for a 6:45 flight, it is necessary to be there before 6:30 to board, as they close the gates ten minutes prior to take-off and start the process earlier than what is stated to be departure. The scene went on to an escalated state, but nothing of great interest. Poor Julie I thought.
Anyway, cool thing about leaving CAK at that hour of the morning, I was home at my kitchen table in Brooklyn sipping coffee with my girl by 9:00. I had thought I would need some sort of nap to recharge, but instead I geared up to cycle, for the first time, into Manhattan to meet Amanda in Chelsea for lunch. The initial launch onto the Manhattan Bridge was kinda trying. You access the path by half circled incline and once you hit the bridge you are very aware of how high you are very soon. The fear in me I think made the pedaling more difficult, and once I was over the water I have to say I felt what one might describe as scared. Later I was told that when going over the Brooklyn Bridge if you hit a certain speed the slits in the wood slats makes it seem as if you are floating over the water. I am curious to experience this for myself. Anyway, back to the Manhattan Bridge, I have to admit I stopped about a third of the way over. Um, hydration is not to be neglected. Yeah, that’s it. I really needed to drink water for maximum performance. Actually at that point I totally doubted my capabilities at completing my journey. But then I thought of one of my cousins that I had just visited with in Ohio and how she does these sixty-five mile tours, and I figured what’s five or six, well ten or twelve if you count both ways, but really, I could do this. And I did. Cycled through China town, gotta little turned around (I wrote Houston on the directions instead of Hudson) but eventually made it and made a lunch date of it. On the way back I once again enjoyed the bicycle path along the Hudson and stopped at a shop to get a bike map. They were out of maps, but I left with a new foldable cargo basket for my newly installed back bike rack. It was seven dollars cheaper than what was available at the Brooklyn stores, and I found it quite novel that Manhattan prices where more economical.
There was a lane on street next to the shop and I decided to follow it for a while. I ended up passing through NYU, Tompkins Square Park, and then went down through Alphabet City to the Lower East Side. I was able to pretty easily found my way to the Bridge and headed over into Dumbo where I detoured to Trader Joe’s. The store was a madhouse, so I settled instead on a produce stand to get a few things. I transferred my purchases into my new basket that I temporarily attached with zip-ties I got at Rite-Aid (they had a quick release function that sort negated their anti-theft installation reasoning.) I got home and made an carrot cabbage Asian cole-slaw with toasted sesame seeds that I shredded myself (which I think took less time then the wrap around to the dried fruit and nuts section line at Joe’s.) Which reminds me, I am out of Apricots. Mayber I should have waited instead of grated. I package up my fixings, and tossed in a couple of beers (the cooler that we have miraculously is the same size as the basket.) I once again got on my bike, this time staying local wit a trip to Prospect Park to enjoy the remainder of Labor Day into it’s evening with a group of friends. All in all, it was a lovely holiday. Oh, and I am like 87% sure that I saw Morgan Freeman on the Hudson River path, on rollerblades.
