Tonight I took L.’s bike back to A.’s apartment building in upper Park Slope.  Why does her bike live somewhere else?  Because A.’s building provides these racks in the basement for tenants to keep their bicycles, solving the bike parking issue in these parts.  And I must say, finding places to lock up a bike is no easy piece here.  I found racks on the lower east side, a few on the various Greenways, and some at subway stops–the A stop at Ralph Avenue, for example–but for the most part I found myself locking up to street signs.  It is against the law to lock a bike to anything but a proper rack, but I usually found myself unable to do anything but break that law during my time here.  So this basement bike parking lot makes a lot of sense.  Except, of course, that these bikes appear to spend almost all their time here.  Most are incredibly dusty and several have flat tires; the basement looks like a place where bikes go to die.  The scene made me wish those without bikes could get their hands on these, but also happy that there are places in Brooklyn where, regardless of where the wishful bike-riding dreams end up, there is always space for your bike, should you need it.  And I needed that bike this week.  Riding here has been singularly thrilling, and I will miss it.  It’s time, though, to get back to Rhoda.  She’s probably creaking with desire to hit the New Orleans streets.  Tomorrow, my sweet.