NYC Commuting
Posted 04-27-2010 at 10:56 AM by RandiZ
I've attempted commuting to work a few times now. Seems like it is time to write about both the bike as well as some of the unique parts of commuting to work in NYC.
I live and work in Brooklyn, NY. Most people, including me before I tried it, thought that the whole idea of riding a motorcycle here was insane. Public transportation is readily available in NYC to such an extent that many people live their whole lives here without ever getting a drivers license. Every pedestrian has either a "hit by a car" story or an "almost hit by a car" story. But my heart was totally into trying this, especially since things at work have been so bad lately.
The first thing I thought of was where to park. I decided that spending the money on a garage space once or twice a week was safer than paying for repairs or living with damage. I spoke to the manager of a garage across the street from my building and he told me "of course" I can park there. Yet, the first day I rode in, he asked me how he could help me and started to tell me that I couldn't park there. Fortunately, the other attendant who heard what the manager said to me and reminded him that indeed he did promise that I could park there. Of course I had to park the bike myself and get it myself -- no problem. In fact, I preferred it. The second time that week I brought the bike in, this same manager was so proud of the newly designated motorcycle and bicycle parking area. Problem solved. Not cheap, but solved. (For those who care, it is on the Flatbush Ave Extension right by Tillary. They charged $13 for the day.)
Roads in NYC are terrible. Besides being the city that "never sleeps" it is also the city that is under constant construction. With the cold and ice this winter, the roads are particularly torn up. Yet, I can't say that I got "butt slapped." Meaning, even though I'm still riding with the factory recommended "3" on the suspension, I did not feel a need to soften it up. Actually, I got more butt banging from the Southern State Parkway than I did on the streets of Brooklyn. I can also honestly say that the bike took road hazards like big square steel plates, and loose asphalt like a champ. Definitely better than any cruiser I've owned.
I do not plan to take such hazards lighter in the future, but I feel confident that I'm at no greater risk to go down because of them. I also repeat the mantra, "the throttle is your friend." The physics of motorcycles in addition to their design, pushes them to ride upright as long as they are moving at a reasonable speed. So, when I want to be cautious I avoid the brake. Rather, I down shift to slow down, plan to avoid the brake if possible, hold on to the handle bars, look around for escape routes, and plan to hit the throttle when needed.
On my commutes to work, I've hit every red light, hit every green light, battled cars that didn't see me, given space by trucks that did. I've been caught in bumper to bumper traffic on a highway. I've ridden along parks and smelled the trees. Got caught behind trucks or vans that I could not see around for a half mile. Ridden on roads that looked like paved seas. But, every time I took off my helmet with a smile. There was no frustration or challenge that diminished the ride.
I live and work in Brooklyn, NY. Most people, including me before I tried it, thought that the whole idea of riding a motorcycle here was insane. Public transportation is readily available in NYC to such an extent that many people live their whole lives here without ever getting a drivers license. Every pedestrian has either a "hit by a car" story or an "almost hit by a car" story. But my heart was totally into trying this, especially since things at work have been so bad lately.
The first thing I thought of was where to park. I decided that spending the money on a garage space once or twice a week was safer than paying for repairs or living with damage. I spoke to the manager of a garage across the street from my building and he told me "of course" I can park there. Yet, the first day I rode in, he asked me how he could help me and started to tell me that I couldn't park there. Fortunately, the other attendant who heard what the manager said to me and reminded him that indeed he did promise that I could park there. Of course I had to park the bike myself and get it myself -- no problem. In fact, I preferred it. The second time that week I brought the bike in, this same manager was so proud of the newly designated motorcycle and bicycle parking area. Problem solved. Not cheap, but solved. (For those who care, it is on the Flatbush Ave Extension right by Tillary. They charged $13 for the day.)
Roads in NYC are terrible. Besides being the city that "never sleeps" it is also the city that is under constant construction. With the cold and ice this winter, the roads are particularly torn up. Yet, I can't say that I got "butt slapped." Meaning, even though I'm still riding with the factory recommended "3" on the suspension, I did not feel a need to soften it up. Actually, I got more butt banging from the Southern State Parkway than I did on the streets of Brooklyn. I can also honestly say that the bike took road hazards like big square steel plates, and loose asphalt like a champ. Definitely better than any cruiser I've owned.
I do not plan to take such hazards lighter in the future, but I feel confident that I'm at no greater risk to go down because of them. I also repeat the mantra, "the throttle is your friend." The physics of motorcycles in addition to their design, pushes them to ride upright as long as they are moving at a reasonable speed. So, when I want to be cautious I avoid the brake. Rather, I down shift to slow down, plan to avoid the brake if possible, hold on to the handle bars, look around for escape routes, and plan to hit the throttle when needed.
On my commutes to work, I've hit every red light, hit every green light, battled cars that didn't see me, given space by trucks that did. I've been caught in bumper to bumper traffic on a highway. I've ridden along parks and smelled the trees. Got caught behind trucks or vans that I could not see around for a half mile. Ridden on roads that looked like paved seas. But, every time I took off my helmet with a smile. There was no frustration or challenge that diminished the ride.
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