Sunday Brunch is a New York City capital “I” Institution. When we lived in Manhattan, we’d rub the sleep from our eyes, press the LOBBY button in the elevator and stagger off in the direction of a good strong French Roast aroma. Today, paddling has replaced sleepwalking. Drysuits are the way we’re “styling” anymore. But meeting up with good friends—fun as ever! Only these days, we find them bobbing around Glen Island instead of dashing across 23rd Street. Here are pics from Sunday: We 2geeks launched from HHYC (Larchmont) and Rick, Michele, and Andrew from Glen Island (New Rochelle). Our usual sleep-paddling destination: Sugar & Spice Bakery, where else? We also kept one eye open for legendary City Island celeb Lifeboat Louie, whom we’ve read about but never met. As it happened, he sauntered by while we were sipping coffee. But the opportunity to meet vanished as quickly as a flock of winter geese.
8:45 a.m. Air temps 30 degrees F, water 45 degrees. Wind barely there at 5-10 kts NE.
We’re still experimenting with different ways to keep our fingertips warm. Pogies may be the solution after all.
Bufflehead ducks take off at the sight of Alex’s neon paddle
Alex, Andrew, Michele and Rick pass by the northern tip of City Island
City Island. A feeble sun, a strong chance of snow.
Passing the City Island Bridge: Alex, Andrew, Michele and Rick.
The sign says “Dock and Dine Only”… the only diners here were gulls dropping shellfish onto the dock to break them open.
Circumnavigating City Island, the Throgs Neck Bridge at right
The NYC skyline above the deck of Alex’s kayak
The Department of Corrections (DOC) ferry which brings coffins to NYC’s “potters field” Hart Island. Another blog post!
MMMwah! Love the Heimlich-maneuver poster…
Andrew, Michele, and Rick at Sugar & Spice
Astronauts in City Island? Michele, Andrew and Rick walking back to the beach
On our return, we encountered a group of sailboat “frostbiters” near New Rochelle
Glen Island: Blue boat on a blue pier
Large flock of wary geese at the Shore Club shore
Lift your paddle and a few birds panic—then, the whole flock goes.