Fort Tilden is an overgrown and disused fort from which the Americans used to blast shells 25 miles out into the sea at passing ships, quite accurately apparently, but now it's a beach being rediscovered by marauding bicyclists with picnics. And come we did, armed with ice boxes and gallons of ale. Upon arrival my two legs merely dislocated themselves from me which left me somewhat horizontal for the remainder of the day there, savaged by beach flies and surrounded by ten naked woman. After allowing the sun to have it's way with me for 3 hours or so, after my feet had turned purple, I decided I might die if I didn't leave then and there. I left and took the road back up to Crown Heights, an epic journey on a bicycle, especially after a few beers. All that pedaling took it's toll on my poor bottom I'm afraid and two days later my hands and fingers are still numb. And I'm convinced I have a culture of sand flies about to hatch from one of my arms as there is a faint buzzing noise coming from one of my elbows.