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Leaving Willy B for Alice Austen
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Photo courtesy of Wikipedia
I stood and pedaled, grimacing against the wind as the eastern panorama of Manhattan unfolded into view. “Hello, city,” I grumbled into the darkness for the umpteenth—and final—time, as I reached the zenith of the Williamsburg Bridge and began the descent.
I moved to Staten Island on the first of the month, and have since been forced to end my relationship with Willy B. It was a switch I had been anticipating for months, and despite the potential of the ferry schedule making my commute-timing more of an issue, the thought of not having to climb a half-mile long incline every morning was more sweet than bitter.
The Williamsburg Bridge was first suggested by John Roebling, designer of the Brooklyn Bridge, in the late1860's. It began construction in 1896 and opened to horse-drawn carriages, bicycles, and pedestrians in December 1903. Trains were added five years later. For twenty years it held the title of “longest suspension bridge in the world” until the Bear Mountain Bridge of Peekskill dwarfed it by thirty-two feet. It is currently the 17th longest in the U.S., with the Verrazano-Narrows at #1.
The bridge's bike path starts at Roebling Street, between South 4th and South 5th Streets in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and spits you out on Delancey Street and Clifton Street in Manhattan--also where the cars come off the bridge. Despite worthy efforts by the DOT, including electronic “Watch for Bicycles” signs and multiple crossing guards, Delancey Street and the nearby Essex Street is still the third most dangerous intersection for cyclists in the city.
A more user-friendly bicycle/pedestrian path was added in 2002, replacing 83 steps on the Manhattan-side ascent. This was only one improvement in the bridge's rehabilitation package during the 1990's; others include repair of the cable suspension system and new underpinnings for subway lines. Since then, bicycle use has quadrupled to around 4,000 cyclists a day.
The incline is greater than the Brooklyn or Manhattan Bridges, making it a minor pain to scale on calm days, and trebly so when it is windy. However, the slow struggle allowed me to take in not only the view of Greenpoint, Queens, Manhattan, and DUMBO from 135 feet in the air, but also afforded a miniature art gallery of both strikingly intricate graffiti and what I can only assume were inside jokes half-drunkenly sprayed upon the concrete.
I'm sorry, Williamsburg. We've had some good times: watching the sun rise in the summertime, coasting down my favorite end (which was whichever one went downhill), drinking at the base and watching the sun set. But John Noble serves me coffee in the morning, and Arthur Molinari provides me with beer after work. I'm sure even Marilyn Monroe would have ridden the John F. Kennedy.
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