March ’13, Trek 7.1, unforgiving winds whipping off the river.
Westside Greenway, GWB was my beacon, cold shiver…
Asked a Kissena Roadie the way, he said, “Follow me, but keep up, I’m late.”
7% grade at 158th, bone crunching sound from my drivetrain, testing its fate.
The roadie shot a look, “are you fucking kidding me?” it read.
Feeling embarrassed, I thought to myself, “Should I have stayed in bed?”
Cabrini Blvd packed, walked up the helix while winds roared.
The view at mid span was breathtaking, years later, I still haven’t gotten bored.
Across the bridge, I didn’t make it to Strictly, instead I turned around.
I wondered, “What’s so special about this road?” Now, Brooklyn Bound.
Little did I know, I didn’t scratch the surface of 9W’s glory.
Athletes unfiltered, another true story.