Hitchin' a Ride

"Rock rock Rockaway Beach/
We can hitch a ride to Rockaway Beach/
It's not far/
Not hard to reach/
We can hitch a ride to Rockaway Beach"
- The Ramones

I think Joey and the gang were starting their "ride" in Brooklyn, because I decided to "get out of the city" and spend this past Sunday (one helluva hot windless New York summer day) at the aforementioned beach. I was coming from Northwest Queens, Rockaway Beach is in Southwest Queens: a distance of roughly 12 miles. If you look at the route I laid out on a subway map, I look like a bit of a genius. However, like Communism, it shall forever look better on paper.

The round trip was 4 hours and took 10 trains.

That's right. 10 trains. Going there (2 hours): N to the 7 to the F to the E to two different Air Trains to the A. Going home (2 hours, minus dinner detour to The Burger Joint): A to the L (which wasn't running so I had to wait another 20 mintues for another A) to the F to the N.

Right when I got off the A train, the temperature seemed to drop to a nippy 72 degrees, accompanied by what felt like 20 mph winds. Winds that were moving just fast enough off the Atlantic waves to convert the sand into 1,000 thousands of dagger of pain into soft, exposed "city" legs. I walked past the many red lifeguard flags, rapidly flapping a warning to keep play far from the reaches of the fierce waves, found a debrit-free spot, managed to pin the blanket down and immediatley ate the sandy sandwich that blew in a steady shelf off the Ocean.

Two minutes ticked by and I uttered, hidden under the beach towel that doubled as protection

from the Sirocco I found myself in, "Ready to go home?" Less than an hour later, I was on the train. The good thing is, the cold beach made me really appreciate NOT living near Rockaway. And, I captured some great video of the sea foam shaking in the wind, which is

pretty funny. Not sure how to post that yet...