HIKE EVERY CITY: Chapter 2.5

The Bronx dazzles and bedevils

Somewhere along my train ride from Philly to Manhattan, it occurred to me that I had never done two urban hikes of 10+ miles each in 48 hours. This happens to me pretty often. A cool recreational opportunity arises, you instinctively commit, and it’s only the night before when you start thinking more scrupulously about the risks involved. Back when I wrote for the Southwest Airlines magazine, I was sent to Reno for a story about urban revitalization and I agreed to take part in a Via Ferrata rock climbing expedition where your ascent is aided by ladder rungs and pegs nailed into sheer cliffs. (You’re wearing a harness and attached to a guide cable.) I told my friend and fam about it, flew to Nevada, checked into my hotel and practically had a panic attack that night.

So you can imagine that when I woke up the morning after my 13-mile Central Park to 238th Street thru-hike—the first half of the Ramble In The Bronx Trail across New York—I had to gin up some courage to get out of bed and see how my feet felt when they made contact with the floor. To my relief, nothing crunched, popped, or seared. I had the beginnings of a pinch blister on my right middle toe, but that’s what toe socks and tape are for. Alright, I thought. I can proceed. I was greeted by my Airbnb hosts’ playful cat (also named Miles) as I stepped outside to sun. I caught two MTA buses to 238th Street. Well, three buses. Because the second bus contained one of the most noxious septic odors I’ve ever encountered. As one of the high school students near me said, before we evacuated and waited for the next bus, “I think I’m starting to hallucinate.”

Things got much less frantic once I de-boarded the final bus at the 238th Street MTA subway station where I had concluded yesterday’s hike. I procured a buttery croissant and some coffee at Mon Amour Coffee & Wine, watching The Bronx wake up as Edith Piaf boomed from the cafe stereo. Then it was time to head north along Broadway to the southwest gates of Van Cortlandt Park, the fourth largest public park in New York and the first of three XXL traverses across Bronx green spaces that my hike today would involve. The entry gates for such a bounteous park were rather understated, and if you judged Van Cortlandt Park by the visible elements from this spot, you might assume that the park is just a collection of athletic fields and playgrounds. But a wolf statue by the entrance hinted at more primeval surprises lurking within the grounds.

Sure enough, within 10 minutes of entering the expanse of Van Cortlandt, I was on a shared bike and pedestrian path entering a buzzing zone of wetlands and deciduous woods. And not long after, I veered left onto the John Kieran Nature Trail and began following a ribbon of dirt through prodigious green plants and past rusty chain-link fences that surrounded the park’s central golf course. I’ve never really minded trails that run along old fences. In these situations, I like to pretend that I’ve wandered onto an old Jurassic Park set. But at times, the nature trail crossed through openings in the fence before veering back into the boggy forest through more openings. It was a taste of what I would soon experience in the park’s most remote and centralized woodlands.

New York is where public parks flourished, but it’s also one of the first cities where parkways—roads that cleave through parks—came to being. And Van Cortlandt Park is quintessected by the Henry Hudson and Mosholu Parkways (as well as Interstate 87!) After finishing the Kiernan path and summiting Vault Hill, I found myself walking on a footpath sandwiched between Henry Hudson Parkway on the left and the fenced golf course on the right. It was an ugly sight, but it also illustrated something I’ve come to admire about New York parks. The people who designed these spaces seem to have taken pleasure in squeezing pedestrian paths into the most unlikely spaces. And as I strode across bog bridges with trucks roaring by on one side and golfers teeing off on the other, I smiled at the unlikelihood of being able to hike through this tight spot.

A creepy parkway underpass took me into an unadulterated patch of forest, where I followed stone stairways and pithy creeks to the park’s eastern exit. A sign posted here indicated that I had been hiking on the John Muir Trail, which is great because people often ask me if I’ve hiked the John Muir Trail and now I can say YES. And just like that, I was back in residential Bronx streets, heading to my next green zone: Bronx Park. At 718 acres, it’s almost as big as Central Park and it boasts botanical gardens and a zoo. But the northern stretch of Bronx Park is basically a long, thin steeple. You follow the Bronx River southward along a paved path, into the park’s vaster woodlands and fields. And even here, you have to share the river with another congested parkway.

But the rippling Bronx River and the trees alongside it provided a serviceable sound barrier between the pathway and the parkway. This surprised me. I could partially see cars crawling along the parkway through the tree branches, and the Bronx River itself was shallow and tranquil enough to wade through. This speaks to the power of natural elements, but alas, that’s probably one of the most common rationalizations for the erection of more parkways—the idea that a fucking highway can coexist with a public green space where the trees, flora, and waters have a real shot at surviving long-term.

Another ingeniously routed path soon took me under the parkway and onto a quieter waterside path that was sandy enough to bring to mind hiking down in North Carolina, where you get a strange hash of coastal and Appalachian elements. And then, it was time to enter the New York Botanical Gardens. I was caught off guard by the entry fee for non-NY residents—$35! I have to be delicate here, but what I will say is this. There are sidewalked roads running through the gardens that intersect with footpaths. And I discreetly followed one of those roads, to one of those paths, which led to a cascade overlook above the Bronx River. (The river picks up speed and intensifies as it froths through the gardens.) The central gardens themselves were surprisingly hectic for a Thursday, and at one point I was hiking through a veritable corridor of blooming lilacs!

But then, something went wrong. The first of two snafus that exemplify how urban hikes can go off the rails: especially if you’re hiking through less familiar urban green spaces. I arrived at my planned exit from the gardens to find the gates chained shut, which required backtracking and searching for another exit. (This added a mile to my already long hike.) After finding a pedestrian overpass that took me over the Bronx River Parkway, I reached the next leg of the hike and realized it wasn’t going to work.

The wild card of the Ramble In The Bronx Trail had always been the passage from Bronx Park to Pelham Bay Park—the largest park in New York and the end of the trail. The only connective route I could find on maps that appeared to include greenery was the Pelham Bay Parkway. But when I saw the volume of traffic on the road and the sporadic shade on the roadside path (it was now sunny and 85) and my first thought was, “Nope.” I didn’t feel like breathing in car exhaust for over two miles and getting sunburnt. But I was determined to get to the beach of Pelham Bay, the crown jewel of NY parks. There had to be a way. I contemplated my options over some asada tacos and a coke from a popular truck on White Plains Road (Tacos El Bronco) and then, as an MTA train clattered overhead on the elevated tracks, the answer revealed itself.

I could bypass the Pelham Bay Parkway and just take the subway to Pelham Bay Park.

Some will call this cheating, and no doubt, it’s a partial completion of the Ramble In The Bronx Trail. But my philosophical outlook on hiking is that it should be fun, and when you’re in an environment with unique perks, you should take advantage of them. If you’re hiking in Vermont, feeling disgustingly sweaty, and you arrive at a swimming hole, strip down and cool off! And if you’re hiking in New York (or any city) and you find an obstacle between your current location and your destination, make a public transit bypass! That’s how I justified taking a page out of the Rosie Ruiz playbook and riding the subway to the southwestern entrance of Pelham Bay Park. I have no regrets.

The scale of Pelham Bay Park is almost incomprehensible. It’s more than three times the size of Central Park, and your choice of entry point will shape the kind of park experience you’ll have. As I entered from the MTA station, just in time for the magic hour’s soft golden light, I realized that my entrance choice was going to yield a mixed bag of a hike finale. Perhaps due to its great size, Pelham Bay Park is home to busy roads that offer access to its trails, golf courses, and beaches. I crossed a bridge over the Hutchinson River along one of these roads, on a bike path frequented by fishermen on motorbikes. It wasn’t exactly the bucolic splendor I had experienced in prior NY parks, but it did afford one glimpse of a lone fisherman on an island below the bridge, angling and waiting. The last 18-20 miles of hiking had yielded a lot of heartwarming pictures of elderly men in parks, and I aim to pay it forward one day.

The final push to Pelham Bay Park’s Orchard Beach required choosing between a wetland trail that was so overgrown that Lyme disease seemed like the inevitable outcome, or a slightly less shaggy forest path that entered the woods near a bus stop. Bearing in mind my health and the journey back to Morris Park (not necessarily in that order), I clomped into the woods and jogged through the grassy sections of the trail, slapping at my legs afterward. At one point, I looked left and found a couple of deer sizing me up. At another, I rounded a corner and encountered a young traveler with a backpack and Merrell boots heading in the opposite direction. Another urban hiker? In all likelihood, she was returning from my destination: the sandy expanse of Orchard Beach, which I finally reached at 6:45pm. My soul was nourished, and my soles wept.

Two bus rides and hours later, with an IPA and an entire pizza inside me, all was well.

Would I do it again? 28 miles across New York in 48 hours? Hell yeah. But I would try a different route. The boroughs are so rife with greenery and walkable that one could chart an urban trail that connects all five of them! And of course, the Great Saunter trail around the perimeter of Manhattan already exists. But for now, if you’re visiting New York or living there, try a slice of the Ramble In The Bronx Trail. Or do the whole thing, including the small portion that I skipped. Maybe you’ll find a better way to hike from Bronx Park to Pelham Bay Park! Let me know if that happens. Because I’ll be back to this enormous, enchanted city. And I’ll bring my trail runners and toe socks.

RAMBLE IN THE BRONX TRAIL

Section 1: Central Park to 238th Street
Hike distance: 13.2 miles
Elevation gain: 1,027 feet

Section 2: 238th Street to Orchard Beach
Hike distance: 13.6 miles
Elevation gain: 571 feet

CLICK HERE for a trail map