The Last Day

After crossing a continent, crossing the rest of Pennsylvania was like blinking. I really thought that it was going to take a lot longer than it did, but apparently Pennsylvania has joined most of the rest of the country in eliminating speeding tickets. I really can't imagine doing the speeds I did across Pennsylvania anytime in the past. Years ago, I saw the two cars I was chasing get pulled over for doing about 85 mph; on this trip, I saw trucks pushing 100 regularly. It worked for my benefit, however, and I was able to blast across the state very, very quickly.

Once I reached the Delaware Water Gap, everything changed. It seemed like in the space of 10 miles the volume of cars on the road tripled and all the normal traffic rules were gone. The speeds were roughly the same, but the left lane was no longer the "fast" or "passing" lane, and simple ideas like the two-second rule were completely abandoned.

Yes, we're getting close to NYC now, I thought.

The ride across NJ was superfast. As a kid, I used to drive across NJ with my folks on our way to our summer place in the Poconos, and it always seemed so long. I guess that impression has remained with me, since I was expecting a much longer ride across the state. Anyway, within what seemed like mere minutes, I was hopping on 280 towards the Lincoln Tunnel. Traffic continued to pile up, the air got thicker and actually acquired a texture, and I began to notice that the roads around NYC are greasy. It is as if the roads have been sprayed with a thin layer of Pam cooking spray or something. More than once my rear tire slipped just a bit in turns that weren't very dramatic and certainly didn't approach the kinds of turns I'd felt like I was "riding on rails" going through on the rest of the trip.

Ahh, gotta love NYC.

By the time I got about a half a mile from the Lincoln Tunnel, it was as if total traffic anarchy was the new rule. I've ridden all over NYC for years and years, but even this surprised me. I just didn't remember it being so bad! By the time I got to the toll booth, it was as if we were a steady stream of hot, dirty, doomed souls about to cross the river Styx into the fetid Underworld. The stifling ride through the tunnel nearly took my breath away - literally. This is AIR?!? I thought. How the FUCK do people breath this shit every day?!? How the fuck did I breathe this shit every day?!?

Then, up in the distance (past Charon and Cerebus), I saw a little bit of natural light streaming unto the roadway. Thoroughly filtered by pollution and collective angst, the light was wan but still a beacon. Finally, I drove those last few feet and saw the sky of Midtown Manhattan before me.

New York Fucking City, I waxed for a moment before jamming on the brakes and swerving to avoid a cab that had just stopped short in front of me.

Yes, I'm home. The realization nearly made me weep. I'm not sure if it was thankfulness, exhaustion, or disgust - probably a combination, really. While NYC may be a stinking, miserable pit of despair, it is home.

I blasted through Times Square (don't ask - I had to do it), down Broadway, and across the Lower East Side on Houston Street before cutting south to the Williamsburg Bridge. The DL felt like a meth-fueled dirtbike on the NYC streets (and sidewalks for just a little way, I admit, but c'mon - that was a really bad intersection!), and I flew across the bridge, marveling at the brownish-red tint the sky had over the East River. The short ride fom the end of the bridge to my apartment was too manic to recall - I really only remember coming off the bridge and then pulling onto my street a few moments later.

As I slowly rode down my block, everything was exactly the same as when I'd left. Only I was different. Well,that's not fair -the DL got her fair share of scratches and dings, and she could proudly display the evidence of the miles she'd traveled. I guess we both could do that.

I rode the DL in front of my building, took off my helmet, and called Amy on my cell phone without even getting off the bike.

"Hello?"

"Honey," I said, "I'm home."