BSNYC Field Trip: 2017 Philly Bike Expo

***Tomorrow (Tuesday) is Election Day.  Election Day means no school.  No school means I have to put on my parenting gloves.  Parenting means I won't be updating this blog tomorrow, but I'll be back on Wednesday, November 8th with regular updates.  The Bike Forecast shall continue uninterrupted.***

Hello!  Let's jump right in with some bike blogging, because this is a bike blog and in these trying times I find great comfort in that.  So first of all, you'll remember that on Friday I took delivery of the Renovo Aerowood:

Well it's all together now and I've managed to get a couple of 20-ish mile rides on it so far:

Naturally the first outing revealed some stuff that needed minor adjustment, and that included a hideous screeching from the wheels under hard braking.  Well I'm pleased to report I've sorted all of those out--including, it seems, the hair-raising crabon banshee wail, and I must say that's the first time ever in my life that toeing in the brakes actually worked.

I was so ready to blame all the ills of society on those decadent crabon wheels that I'm almost disappointed.  They even seem to stop well in wet conditions, which really pisses me off.

Anyway, at this early stage I'm not going to say anything other than that the bike is really fun to ride and makes me feel super fast even though I'm not--though for the basis of comparison I hopped on my trusty Ritte and that too felt pretty damn good, cheapo wheels and all:

Clearly some wheel-swapping and other experimentation is in order, and rest assured I'll keep you apprised of how I'm getting on with the Renovo over the duration of the testing period.

Oh, and I've checked with my tech department, and right now the plan is to get the Jones H-Bars installed on the Marin by Friday so I can start testing those babies out too.

Though I can't promise anything, for I am only one Fred.

Either way, I'm very much looking forward to to switching back and forth between a $10,000 wooden aerobike and a stock no-frills 27.5+ bike with wide-ass alt bars on it that costs about 1/10th as much.

Moving on, this past weekend I headed down to the Philly Bike Expo.  Usually I only visit for the day and give a seminar, which basically involves me bloviating in an ostensibly humorous fashion, showing a bunch of slides, and giving away some goofy prizes--including, last time I was down there, a crabon frame that may or may not have been cracked:

While I'm no Carrot Top, people generally seem to have an OK time, so I keep doing it.

This year, however, show organizer Bina Bilenky had a different idea, which was for me to speak at an "Industry Party" she was putting together for Saturday evening, so I figured I'd do that and then spend the night in Philly:

My "presentation" was basically a disaster, but more on that later.

Anyway, upon arriving in Philadelphia on Saturday afternoon the first thing I did was take a photo of where I parked, because I have been known to lose my car:

And yes, even though I hate cars now I totally drove to the Expo, but only because I was traveling with a $10,000 wooden bicycle, and if I took the Bolt bus I'm sure that upon stepping off of it in Philly they'd hand me a bag of sawdust.

While you may see this as hypocritical, I maintain it only reaffirms my central point, which is that all drivers are assholes.  

Once I'd gotten the car and hotel room sorted out I headed over to the convention center, where the Expo was in full swing, much to the delight of the local news:

I then made straight for the Engin booth, for I am a big fan of Drew's bikes, which is why I ride one of them:

And wouldn't you know he had on display pretty much exactly the road bike I'd want if I were currently in the market for a custom road bike, which as the father of seventeen (17) children I am most assuredly not:

This bike has it all, precisely because it doesn't have it all--monochromatic paint, rim brakes, metal wheels, and even mechanical shifting:

The wood bike of course has electronic shifting, which all sarcasm aside is pretty amazing and extremely fun to use--the front shifting in particular is so good that when you press the button you say out loud, "Are you fucking kidding me?"  Even so, if money were no object I have to say I'd still go with the mechanical shifting, mostly because I like actually feeling the shift, but also because I resent having to plug in a bike.

Anyway, I was sure I'd just seen the perfect road bike until I walked by the Richard Sachs booth:

At which point I realized I had to look at a bike I'd never want in a million years or else I'd do something I'd end up regretting, so I stared at this thing for awhile until I regained my bearings:

Speaking of bearings, isn't the real reason we go to bike shows so we can stand around spinning them?

As it happens, I'd left my fidget spinner in the glove compartment of my car, so I was extremely grateful for this display.  They also had some cranks you could spin:

And I made a mental note to pick up some cured meat over at the Reading Terminal Market across the street and bring it back here for slicing.

Next I checked out the custom cycling shoes:

Though Renovo has already set me up with a pair so I didn't bother placing an order:

In addition to custom shoes there was also art:

Though I didn't buy any of that either because I'm saving my money for Froome Chasing Geese:

But the Philly Bike Expo isn't all about custom exotica, and one of the more noteworthy companies there was 1854:

Whose business model sets them apart from any other company in the industry:

FRAMINGHAM, Mass. (BRAIN) — Brandale Randolph's goals for the bike brand he founded last year would be unfamiliar to some entrepreneurs.

"If we can employ at least 20 people at a living wage making bikes here, we'll be doing great," Randolph told BRAIN this week. "If three or four years from now, our employees can see one of our bikes out on the road being used, and say, 'I built that bike,' that would a success ... if we can go into bike shops around the country and see our bikes on display, that's a win."

Randolph, who calls himself a social entrepreneur, founded 1854 Cycling Company specifically to employ formerly incarcerated people, as well as those on work release from jails and prisons. The company is named for the year that the Anti-Slavery Society met for the first time, on July 4 in Framingham, marking the start of the abolitionist movement. The company is a for-profit business that donates a portion of all proceeds to charities and organizations that provide support to the formerly incarcerated.

Then there were the test tracks.  Not only was there one just for the kids, but there was also another one for Electric Bike Expo, which took place directly adjacent to the regular analog Philly Bike Expo:

You know what's fun?  I'll tell you what's fun: zipping around on a smooth cement floor on a pedal-assist bike.  Even more fun?  The ramp:

The first bike I tried was a garden variety hybrid equipped with a Copenhagen Wheel:

If you're unfamiliar with the Copenhagen Wheel, basically you just throw it on the bike you have now and let 'er rip:

MEET THE COPENHAGEN WHEEL
The Copenhagen Wheel is a sleek red hub that turns almost any bike into a smart electric hybrid. It contains a custom motor, advanced sensors, control systems, and a battery. Bluetooth connectivity enables you to personalize your cycling experience from your smartphone. Simply replace the rear wheel of your bike or add it to a new bike. Distances shorten, hills flatten and the experience becomes uniquely you, ride by ride.

As you know, with kids to haul and nothing left to prove I've been pining for an ebike, and if I still had the Big Dummy I would have bought one of these things right then and there, since retrofitting one to a bike with a derailleur drivetrain seems incredibly simple.  Not only is it like having a gale force tailwind, but it also has regenerative braking, so when you pedal backwards you slow down.  The sensation is like riding some kind of cosmic space fixie in the best possible way.

Next I tried an Urban Arrow in the "Shorty" configuration:

And did my best to catch some air with it:

I absolutely love my current kid-hauler, but as I schlepped my younger child to the iPhone factory this morning I spent the entire ride thinking about that Bosch pedal assist paired with a NuVinci CVT.  Seriously, just wow.  With the WorkCycles Fr8 now available in a pedal-assist I may have to think about a retrofit.  In fact, as I cruised around the test track I caught myself thinking that if anything has the ability to bring everyday riding to the lazy, complacent American masses then pedal assist is it, and if this doesn't do it then we're all dying in our Hyundais, end of story.

Soon it was time for me to leave and get ready for Industry Party, where I was to be the speaker.  As it turns out, the last thing a bunch of industry people want to do after standing on their feet and answering questions about bikes all day is listen to some bike blogger prattling on about nothing--especially when there's a buffet and an open bar:

Yet I'd been asked to do a job, so inanely I pressed on in the face of obvious indifference and annoyance until someone politely told me I should wrap it up.  If you've ever been lapped at a cyclocross race, yelled at by the leaders, and then unceremoniously pulled from the course then you have a good sense of what it was like.  Nevertheless, I regret nothing, because the occasional strong dose of abject humiliation is good for the character.

I was also glad I stayed the night, because I had the opportunity to ride the next morning before heading back.  Initially I had planned to do a dirt ride that was in the offing, but with the weather looking questionable I figured sticking to the road was a safer bet, so I said "Screw it" and brought the Renovo with me:

And after a delightful Sunday morning gallop I struck out on the New Jersey Turnpike for home.

See you next year, Philly, but not at the Industry Party.

Okay, let's do this.

I realize that yesterday I said I wasn't going to cover pro cycling, but I'll make an exception for component failure porn of this caliber any day:

Wheel failure for Gianni Moscon of @TeamSky at #tirrenoadriatico pic.twitter.com/5GuaYyd4ss

— Trevor Ward (@willwrite4cake) March 8, 2017

Supposedly the collapse came after an encounter with a pothole, and Shimano is going to get to the bottom of it:

In the full statement from Shimano, whose component wing of the business, PRO, produced the three spoke Textreme tubular wheel, Shimano said that the wheels had passed rigorous testing and emphasised its “flawless record”.

“PRO is continuing its investigation into the issue we saw with Team Sky at the team time trial of Tirreno-Adriatico. We are continuing to look closely into all factors that could cause the incident,” the statement read.

I can only hope the investigator's first question will be #whatpressureyourunning, and I'm sure it will conveniently turn out to be either just under or just over what Shimano says the wheel is rated for.

In any case, we haven't had a wheel failure investigation this exciting since the Mavic R-Sys debacle of aught-nine, which of course gave rise to the Diminutive Frenchman Unit (or DFU) as a universally-accepted unit of measurement:

I may be indifferent towards bike helmets but there's no way I'd bend a crabon spoke without first putting on safety glasses.

But hey, the joke's on me apparently, since the R-Sys is not only still available but Freds are still paying stupid amounts of money for them:

Of course I understand the temptation to spend lots of money on fancy wheels.  Indeed, back in 1999, in the heady days of my being a total Fred, I bought the first incarnation of the Mavic Ksyrium wheelset.  (I'd include an image of the original Kysriums but I can't even find one, such is the short shelf-life of high-end cycling components.)  Those wheels are positively quaint by today's standards, but I can assure you that to a young fin de siècle Fred those silver decals, fat bladed aluminum spokes, and internally threaded rims were the epitome of speed and technology and represented exactly what I'd need to make leap to big-time Category 3 bike racing.

Anyway, I seem to recall paying $700 for these wheels.  As a born-again retrogrouch that strikes me as a lot of money for wheels even today, but back then it was a fucking fortune, especially when you consider I was pretty young and had yet to become a world-famous cycling personality and media mogul.  And while the wheels certainly did look cool on my race bike they were no more round than the wheels I'd had before.  Furthermore, the affair was short-lived, for one day while riding in Manhattan a kid ran out into the street and kicked my rear wheel for no apparent reason.  This knocked the wheel out of true and it was never the same again.  So eventually I sold them at a considerable loss.

Meanwhile, if instead of buying those Ksyriums back in 1999 I had bought $700 worth of stock in, oh, I dunno, General Mills I'd have received about 35 shares.  Today that investment would be worth $2,100...which is almost enough to buy a pair of R-Sys wheels, so there you go.

Worst of all I can't even say I learned anything from this lesson, since I still spend money on all sorts of crap I'll wish I hadn't in 20 years--which I suppose is the difference between me and people like Old Man Buffet, who I mentioned yesterday:

(Disclaimer: I have not authenticated any of these quotes.)

Hey, he may be one of the wealthiest people on the planet, but is he truly happy?

Almost certainly yes.

Speaking of happiness, traditional wheelsets, and materialism, yesterday I enjoyed a ride on my road bike, which I've been thinking of retiring:

Why am I thinking of retiring it?  Because for a parent of various human children who lives in a New York City apartment building I have a lot of bikes.  Here are my bikes currently in service as well as their use:

Ironic Orange Julius Bike: Intercity travel, locking up outside in high-theft areas
Travel Bike: Travel, all-terrain rambling
Ritte Rust-Bucket (above): Fred rides, all-terrain rambling
Milwaukee: Fred rides, all-terrain rambling, winter road rides (bike is fendered in winter)
Ol' Piney: Mountain-Fred rides, all-terrain rambling, snow rides
Engin Artisanal Custom-Curated Singlespeed Mountain Bike: Mountain-Fred rides, all-terrain ramblings, races and ironic singlespeeding events
Brompton*: Bromptoneering
WorkCycles: Child-schlepping, family outings, neighborhood errand-running with an emphasis on diaper runs

*[Theoretically this still belongs to Brompton]

That's eight bikes in regular service.  The downside is they take up space and psychic energy.  The upside is that it's not like I'm putting in 10,000 miles a year these days, so wear and tear is spread fairly evenly across eight bikes, which means I'm replacing wear items pretty infrequently.

Nevertheless, in the interest of hoarding, I have retired the following bikes he last few years:

Scattante: Redundant due to Ironic Orange Julius Bike (donated)
Hardtail mountain bike: More or less redundant due to Ol' Piney (still have, just disassembled and stored)
Big Dummy: More or less redundant due to WorkCycles (re-homed)
Cyclocross Bike: More or less redundant due to overlap among my other drop-bar bikes, plus I haven't raced cyclocross in like six years (re-homed)

Anyway, I had finally decided to retire the Ritte Rust-Bucket in the interest of space and psychic energy conservation, but I really enjoyed riding it and have rationalized not doing so by deciding I need one bike with actual road pedals.

So much for that.

Lastly, I'm sorry to report a cyclist has struck and seriously injured a pedestrian:

The woman had just stepped out from between two parked cars mid-block near Sixth Avenue about 7 p.m. when the cyclist, 23, hit her with his aluminum road bike as he headed west in the right lane, police said.

Interesting that they specified the material of the bike.  Perhaps it makes the cyclist seem less evil than if they'd been riding a carbon bike.  In any case, I hit a pedestrian once while cycling many years ago.  She ran out into the street to hail a cab and I didn't have time to stop or swerve.  She went down pretty hard, but I was very fortunate that she was young and resilient and was able to spring back up and duck into the cab after giving me a withering look.  I forgave myself almost immediately, since it was technically her "fault," but as time goes on I realize that as the party on wheels there's always a little more you can do, and that you've always got to be prepared for people emerging into traffic, because it's a busy city and that's what people do.  That's not to blame either the cyclist or the pedestrian here, but that's just the way it is.

Ride safe out there.

Well my goodness would you look at the time.

We're enjoying some eerily delightful springlike weather here in New York City, though there's a snowstorm due for tomorrow so presumably we'll get what's coming to us:

Given this, I made a point of throwing a leg over the old bicycle cycle this morning and basking in the February sun:

:
You know it's warm out when the suburbanites drive in from Jersey in their convertibles:

Between the blazer-clad guy in his Audi on one side of 5th Avenue and the wool-capped semi-professional bike blogger on the other I like to think we represent the entire depressingly narrow spectrum of white middle-age.

Speaking of high performance machines, the World Wide Internet Web has been abuzz recently with speculation that professional cyclocross bike rider Wout "There It is!" Van Aert is secreting a motor in his cyclocrossing bicycle:

Here's the video in question, and the salient bit begins at around 1:43:

(Open it in another window if you want controls, my IT person is on strike.)

When I first watched this I was 99% certain he did in fact have a motor.  First, he attacks:

Then his rear wheel loses traction and kind of fishtails:

Causing him to bust into a sick-ass whip-skid that would have gotten the fixie set all hot and bothered back in aught-seven:

Then the rear wheel catches again and he kind of rockets forward, which is where it looks like he has a motor:

Indeed, it almost looks like he's holding onto a runaway bike:

 "Somebody stop this thing!," you can almost hear him shouting:

And there it is:

However, after roughly 400 viewings I'm now 99% sure he didn't have a motor and that it was really just a nice save on his part.  Of course, this isn't the first time Van Aert has been accused of mötödöping, and there was also this suspicious moment not too long ago:



Which was explained away thusly:


Hmmm.  Like a Specialized dealer, I guess I have no choice but to buy it.

But I'll be watching you, Van Aert!*

*[This is 100% not true, I won't be watching you at all.  I have no time or inclination to watch bike racing anymore and am only interested in incriminating mötödöping footage and roadie slapfights.]

The above notwithstanding, I have absolutely no doubt pro cyclists are using motors, and I also have no doubt amateur Freds are too.  After all, they're ideal for helping you reach your ridiculous mileage goals:

How to fit 10,000 miles into your year: https://t.co/UTQt7ksggl pic.twitter.com/6a0g60cE0t

— Bicycling Magazine (@BicyclingMag) February 8, 2017

Riding 10,000 miles in a year is no small feat for the amateur cyclist. If eking out a few lunch rides a week takes a toll on your schedule, clocking an average of nearly 200 miles weekly (roughly 27 miles a day) is an intimidating prospect—but it’s not impossible. We found five riders with families, jobs, and, yes, normal lives who have managed to make significant dents in their cycling computer's  memory.

Normal, really?  I don't think so:

“When I say I’ll meet a friend, I’ll meet him,” says Melbourne, Australia-based Simon Matheson, who’s on track to cover more than 12,000 miles this year. “If he can’t do it, the impetus isn’t there to get out of bed.” Matheson, 47, rides with groups of 10 to 100 other riders nearly every day and finds the social aspect rewarding. “It’s the camaraderie, the catching up.”

Won't get out of bed if nobody's waiting for you?  Only ride your bike in large groups?  You may be suffering from Autophobia.  Talk to your doctor and find out if Frederol is right for you.

For architect and former triathlete Andy Johnson of Louisville, Colorado, 4am wake-ups are crucial—but it took him a year to adjust. “I have a family with two young kids, so I get up very early and get in two or two-and-a-half hours every morning,” Johnson says. “If I don’t, I probably won’t ride that day. It’s my time. It’s a lifestyle.” He expects at least 10,000 miles this year.

Getting up at 4am every day for any other reason than a job you depend on for your livelihood?  Again, not normal.  Trust me, I used to get up at 4am on weekends to race my bike, and I wasted some of the best years of my life in the process.

“You have to figure out why you’re riding a bike,” says Tanner, already at nearly 9,000 miles this year. "For me it's a competitive thing. I like knowing when I go to a ride that I'm in control of how fast we're going.”

Wait a minute.  I don't get in anywhere near that kind of mileage, yet not only do I know exactly why I'm riding a bike (usually to pick up either beer or diapers) but I'm also totally in control of how fast I'm going (usually not very).

I must be doing something wrong.

Lastly, more bad news for the oppressed drivers of New York City!  Some kind of unhinged individual in Marxist clothing is running around Prospect Park with a Smug-ometer:

(Why don't you just make ten smugger and make ten be the top number and make that a little smugger?)

“We want to uncover how bad the problem is and further evidence that the park should be car-free,” said Transportation Alternatives executive director Paul Steely White.

Mayor DeBlasio outlawed driving on the park’s Ditmas Park-bound West Drive in 2015, but stopped short of banning cars from the green space altogether, with Prospect-Heights-bound motorists still allowed on East Drive between 7-9 am on weekdays and holidays.

I could not agree more.  Back when I lived in Brooklyn, after a hard day of blogging, I'd throw my human child onto the erstwhile Big Dummy (now lovingly re-homed) and we'd knock around Prospect Park.  It was all rather idyllic--until the park opened back up to motorists at 4:00 (if I recall correctly) and suddenly the park was transformed into a complete shitshow.  And woe unto the cyclist or runner who was not watching the clock like a student waiting for dismissal, because the very second the park road opened up these asshole drivers would roar into the park and honk relentlessly at any poor schmucks who still happened to be using the car lane.

The fact that keeping cars out of public parks is anything less than a complete no-brainer is depressing.  They've got the roads, and they've got Dunkin' Donuts.  That should be enough.

They Rode Together, We Just Watched

As I mentioned in my last post, yesterday evening there was a ride down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan to "demand safe passage for cyclists and pedestrians:"

Obviously as a semi-professional bike blogger and noted book author of books I am a highly-accomplished cyclist with a deep well of experience and wisdom from which to draw.  However, when it comes to bike (and pedestrian) advocacy I'm not even a Cat 6; I'm more like a Cat 30.  I'm also a relative "noob."  After all, when I started this blog I was terminal Fred who thought people like David Byrne (who does not own a car) were cloyingly smug and off-puttingly self-important.  Now I still find this to be the case, but I like to think I've developed a brand of cloying smugness and off-putting self-importance that is uniquely my own.

Anyway, despite the moisture behind my ears I felt compelled to join the ride.  However, I couldn't leave my seventeen (17) children behind until my co-parent got home from work, by which point the smugness train would have long since departed.  I also couldn't do the ride with my children, since I live in the far reaches of the northern Bronx, and I'm not riding a child-laden WorkCycles like an hour and a half each way in the dark.  Most importantly, I couldn't leave the neighborhood with the kids until my eldest child was finished with school--and no way I was taking him out early, because he's in first grade, and if he doesn't do well now he won't get into a good college, and in 20 years he'll still be living at home and I'll be buying weed from him.

Then it hit me like a fucked-up Altima with Pennsylvania plates: I'll choose my two (2) most favorite children and we'll take the subway!  Sure, we wouldn't get to to the actual ride, but at least we'd be there for the roll-out to show our support, for what tiny bit it was worth.

So that's what we did.

Hey, someone's gotta represent the pedestrians.

By the way, I should point out that attending protests with my offspring is not without precedent.  Remember way back in September of 2011 when I visited the Occupy Wall Street protest?

Of course you don't.

Nevertheless, what I didn't mention in that post is that I visited on my (erstwhile) Big Dummy with my (at that time only) child strapped into the kiddie seat.  At the time he was around one and a half years of age.  Now his brother is about that age, so exposing him to a massive smugness gathering seemed only fitting.

Anyway, here was the scene at 59th and 5th when we emerged from the subway:

And here are some Plaza Hotel guests wondering what the hell is going on with all these bikers and why they didn't go to Bermuda instead:

Now at first glance you might think that all these protesters are appropriating public space in the name of safe streets in a manner that, paradoxically, makes the streets less safe for the pedestrians attempting to make their way through:

This was not the case.  Even though I had two children in tow and was pushing a stroller like the worst kind of sidewalk-commandeering Park Slope parent, everybody made sure to clear a path and afford me easy and safe passage:

Of course, this could be for any one of three (3) reasons:

1) They're simply kind and considerate people who care about pedestrian safety;

2) They were under strict orders from their smugness overlords at Transportation Alternatives not to anger all the tourists and billionaires;

3) They recognized me as an important personage and were affording me VIP treatment.

Who knows, but you can be goddamn sure it wasn't #3.

By the time we arrived the speechmaking was in full swing and Paul "Steezy" White of Transportation Alternatives was addressing the crowd:

Participants had been instructed to wear yellow, a directive with which some complied by wearing golden neckerchiefs:

Though this particular rider also accessorized with what appears to be a USB cable:

Hey, it's a lot cooler than a LiveStrong bracelet.

Speaking of sartorial choices, the ride was a veritable runway show for the fashion style I like to call "advocacy chic."  Of course there were the usual unfastened helmet straps and gear from other protest rides:

(I'll bet this was a banner day for the Soupman, nothing goes together like soup n' smugness!)

Though designers also used the opportunity to debut new looks.  For example, here's the dope new #crashnotaccident collabo:

And some of the designs were really edgy:

"How dare you?," I shouted.  "Don't you know my child can read above his grade level?!?"   (New York parents always work a boast into their outrage.)  I then covered my kid's eyes with a yellow neckerchief, threw a poncho over the rider to obscure his shirt's slogan, and tackled him to the sidewalk.

Just kidding.  We took the subway down, remember?  I can assure you he heard "mother fucker" and other similarly offensive phrases at least once every 15 seconds on the way there--and some of them weren't even uttered by me.

And by the way, my own outfit was also the very pinnacle of "advocacy chic," and here's the shirt I was wearing:

Indeed, one of the riders complimented me on it and informed me he too was from Cleveland.  Horrified, I explained that I wasn't.  Then I thrust into his face a copy of the birth certificate I carry to thwart the birthers.

We continued to make our way through the crowd:

And all the way to the fountain from which the speakers were speaking, though by the time we got there the speakers had pretty much finished:

And before long the riders funneled onto 5th Avenue in the midst of the evening rush hour:

Grabbing my elder son by the shoulders, I ordered "Don't let anyone steal your brother!"  Then I climbed the base of a lamp post:

(Show me a parent who can take a kid into Manhattan on the subway without losing his shoes and I'll show you someone who's using Krazy Glue.)

And watched the riders make their way downtown:

It was an impressive showing, and without a hint of irony or smugness I can say that I felt proud:

Once the last of the riders departed the skullbusters followed behind:

And with that the city swallowed them up.

But for a little bit of residual honking you'd never know they had just been there--unless you were the Soupman of course, who promptly took over the bus lane to retrieve his cart and count his earnings:

At this point the sun was setting, so we headed into Central Park to stretch our legs before the return trip:

At twilight the rats become active, and the park was teeming with them.  So we chose a fitting vantage point from which to watch them forage and frolic:

It wasn't too long ago that you didn't want to find yourself in Central Park after dark lest you fall victim to a crime, but now you've got to get out before the LARPing begins:

In all, it was a successful and inspiring evening, but it was also an exhausting one, and it felt good to get back to the Bronx and set the parenting switch to the "Off" position:

Now to find that lightsaber and show those LARPers a thing or two...