I rode to damn near every borough on my Beach Cruiser. Crossed bridges and did more miles than I can count…
So how the fuck did I not ride to Randall’s Island??
It’s not more than four blocks from my place of residence. Crossing the bridge to get there (for some reason I believed it was always closed, don’t ask) it’s already a trek. Families walking back. Families going. Up and coming musicians filming their videos. People watching the water, boats crossing underneath. Finally crossing the bridge with my Brody O, we end up by this open space nothing but water as we stand on top of these abnormal colored rocks. A different perspective of where we live in between all those buildings like ants in a farm. We just don’t help each other but that’s neither here or there. It’s a weekday. His weekend. My empty schedule.
We vowed to return.
Returning as promised, it was a Saturday,
Summer,
BBQs,
A lot of people in a nutshell.
Starting from the point we left at last time, we decide to simply follow the road. See where we can go. Soccer, baseball, and BBQ food inflating my nostrils. Going off road thinking it was a short path, my Beach Cruiser in trekking through rain puddles and actual mud. Never seen authentic soccer players up close before. The passion for the game written all over their faces. All ages, races, shapes and sizes. Finally back on the road, O suggests we find the golfing range. Ten minutes later, countless near car collisions, direction asking, we end up at the place. Open space so we could actually stay with our bikes. Random events seem to never disappoint. Finding an empty slot, I park the bikes while waiting for the essentials. Bucket of golf balls and two clubs I’m met with.
Two things.
I never golfed before. Let alone swung a club, in proper formation.
And second I will never talk shit about golf ever again in my lifetime. I could have sworn it was the easiest sport. Almost even laughed when I saw the man next to us miss the ball entirely on a swing.
I missed my first three swings.
With some coaching I finally started to get the mechanics. Watching those long drives by others made me want to master it right away. What’s funny is every movie with golf in it, I constantly see the little cart picking up the golf balls being hit. I made it my duty to hit that cart. As with every great action, it was foretold but occurs unexpectedly. Right where the guard protects the driver, twenty something swings later, I hit it. THUMP!! A sense of accomplishment surged through my body. Living right?!
Riding back, completing the whole island, the sunset on the East River looked magical. Bike riding soothes my soul. Quick enough to speed by but close enough to reach and touch. Randall’s Island is close in proximity and offers the tranquility of an tropic island (in its own way). I truly value days such as this. Totally unplanned but did more than I could ever ask for. Thank you Brody for that. Thanking the universe for the scripts written. On the ride over the bridge in typical PayneInTheCulo fashion, I bomb it. Water in the background and dreams beyond comprehension. Every placement is closer to my four pillars. My anchors. What allows me to function despite any negative doubts. Salute to my ambitious rebels. Stay the course even for the worse.
I read a quote not too long ago that I feel is the proper way to end this…
“Don’t wait for life defining moments to change you, they already happened.”
Obliged, much obliged.
PayneInTheCulo 