I have long wondered about Roosevelt Island: who lives in the mix of public housing and gleaming condos? (No one; they live in either one or the other. Har har.) How do you get there? What is there to see?
Last summer I noticed the green ring on the bike map that encircled the island, and figured that it was easy enough to get to — go over the Queensboro bridge and turn left — that I added it to my list of trips. The interest was heightened by an article in Essential New York, and one in the Times.
Finally, today I went there. Like many other explorations, it was unplanned; I tend to worry about too many details that work themselves out otherwise. I have been over the Queensboro bridge before (enter on 60th Street and 1st avenue on the south side), and it is perhaps the steepest ascent of all the East River bridges (I haven’t had the pleasure of the Williamsburg, but I have done Brooklyn, Manhattan and Triborough). At the end of the bridge, one is deposited on the western end of Queensboro plaza. Making a U-Turn, I progressed to 21st Street. I believe the best route is to continue straight through the pedestrian plaza to Vernon Blvd. (I did so on the next block.)
Turn right and continue north along Vernon until 31st Ave, which extends across the access bridge to Roosevelt Island. Look left as your cross the bridge; you will find an unlikely pair of twin towers in the alignment of spires of the Chrysler Building and the Empire State. Once across the bridge (I walked the bike one way and rode it on my way back when there were fewer pedestrians), I went north up main street and then onto the circumferential promenade. At the north end of the island is a small park with the lighthouse and a panoramic view of Manhattan, the east river, and Queens. The planners seemed to know, though, that it was the west edge of the island which faces Manhattan that is the greatest attraction. It is not only the view, but the mass of the river, the sunshine in the afternoon, and the breeze that make this edge of the park so pleasant.
In fact, I found the entire gestalt of this promenade utterly utopian. Perhaps not perfect, but certainly a good approximation of an urban oasis. Aside from the parks, the view, the promenade, and the breeze, the entire place seemed so wholesome. People engaged in fishing and cookouts; strolling as families, and no one minded the slow progression of a biker along the small path. The island is so small — only about 1.5 miles from tip to fence and perhaps 2/5 of a mile across — that one need not feel a rush to get where they are going. In fact, the leisure of the place made the sight of the torturous progress of cars along the FDR Drive across the river — I can vividly imagine the honking, the revving of engines, and the stink of exhaust that one endures — seem a languorous and a deliberate country drive.
After I left the island, I turned left again onto Vernon Blvd and proceeded north toward Astoria. Once again in contrast to the shore-front highways to which one is accustomed, Long Island City and Astoria (to a lesser extent, as it is bisected by the Triborough) this section of the avenue makes one vividly aware of what six or eight lanes of highway take away from the shore. Parkland and residences run the length of this route to Astoria Blvd, flanked by the two empty lanes of Vernon Blvd. The irony is that perhaps when Robert Moses first co-opted the land for his highways, people enjoyed the view from the car windows, but now drivers are interested only in escaping the traffic that plagues them, and a more direct route — certainly one farther from the shore — would be desirable and more than adequate.
Vernon Blvd. wends and intersects with several others, but I followed the bike path and signs for Astoria Park. Once along Astoria Park and 25th Ave South (I would recommend pursuing another route, as 25th street is wide and aggressive), I went east to 27th Street, where one can climb stairs to the pedestrian lane of the East River leg of the Triborough Bridge. (The stairs are on the north and east side of the bridge viaduct at 27th street.) Be warned that the pedestrian lane itself has construction at least half a dozen of the concomitant stairs and ramps, which are quite a pain. Midway across the bridge, I saw a woman just sitting on the steel girder above the traffic and along the bike path; she was soaking in the late-day sun, the strange serenity of the passing traffic and spectacular view the length of Manhattan.
Finally, down onto Randalls Island, one is in a different kind of utopia — this one of seeming country roads and sports fields. To find the pedestrian bridge to Manhattan from the ramp, make a U-Turn south, the first right, and follow the traffic all the way around the prisons and institutions to the east river sports fields. The footbridge is a strangely welcoming gateway as opposed to the other three pedestrian ramps that have preceded it in this journey. Perhaps, one becomes unaccostomed to accomodation rather than adversity, and this bridge is a welcome touch of humanity among the industrial and automobile bridges found elsewhere.
On my next trip to Roosevelt Island — and there will be a next time — I will definitely bring a camera to share some pictures.
