Rockaway Crash

Yesterday I licked my hangover wounds most of the day, but around 4 in the afternoon I decided to bicycle to the Rockaways.

AP, my landlord, cautioned that a passing tropical depression might have churned the waves into a maelsturm of riptides and shore dumpers. I checked the surf report. The ocean looked calm and I hurried downstairs planning on biking to Fort Tilden.

It was 4:30.

I cut through Prospect Park and then followed the various bike path through Brooklyn to the Gil Hodges Bridge spanning the Jamaica inlet.

It was 5:40

The ride was longer than I had hoped.

Swimming wasn't permitted after 6pm.

A few couples were walking across the sand.

Sunset was at 7:17

A cloud hid the sun.

At the beach I tugged off my skirt and ran into the ocean.

Only a few people were in the water.

Four.

After Labor Day New Yorkers abandoned the Rockaways.

I plunged underneath a towering wave to avoid getting crushed by shore break.

After my swim I bicycled toward the 116th Street subway station.

I wasn't paying attention to where I was and crashed into a railing before the Riis Park bath houses.

I was thrown to the concrete over the handlebars.

Crunch.

But nothing was broken.

Only bloodied.

I was a lucky man.

I wish I was lucky everyday.