This magical avenue has many of Brooklyn’s shops and boutiques. It holds a diverse array of cultures, West Indian, Hasidic, Russian and more. Beginning at Flushing Avenue, it runs all the way to Sheepshead Bay. Nostrand Avenue takes its name from a Dutch member of the Flatbush Dutch Reformed Church, Gerret Noorstrand. Boring, right? I thought it would be a way more epic story, like the original settlers of Brooklyn were so amazed by the size of the borough that they exclaimed, “Aye, there’s no strand in view.” But history continues to disappoint. Maybe we can incorporate this into a Brooklyn mythology… So forget Gerret, my way is the way it really happened.

I work about halfway down the road, in Midwood, just past the ol’ Flatbush Junction. The potholes ’round Newkirk are perty bad, but it ain’t too hard to overcome, I reckon, ‘specially if you’re lookin’ down at the road the while.

This morning there was a typical New Yorker on a little blue mountain bike with tires that needed air. For a while he was keeping up with me, but at every red light, he’d take a left or a right to let the cars pass in front of him, before winding back to Nostrand. As we flew through Crown Heights, he started to put his put down to skid to a slow due to the slope of the hill. Eventually, we were crossing a street with a bunch of pedestrians, and this goober, in his New York baseball cap, his week-length chinstrap, and matching blue coat, again skidded with his feet. Narrowly missing a couple of peds, I cut him off and cruised to the end.

Moral: When in New York, do as the New Yorkers do, on Nostrand or Park Ave.