By KEN BELSON
THEY are hard to miss on the weekend. Some on mountain bikes or 10-speeds weave their way through hilly streets that even cars struggle to climb. The more serious ones ride in packs, wear colorful spandex suits and sit on high-end bikes made by Trek, Cervélo, Cannondale and others. They ride three and four across in the street, all but daring drivers to honk or worse.
A few stop for coffee on Fort Washington Avenue or ride to Fort Tryon Park and the Cloisters. Those in need of spare parts head to Manny’s Bicycle Shop on Bennett Avenue. Most, though, move silently, like deer through a forest, rarely lingering long.
When my wife and I moved to Washington Heights last year, we wondered if our friends and family would know where to find us. A surprising number knew exactly where we were headed, because they rode their bicycles through the neighborhood. It turns out that our corner of Manhattan, which real estate brokers call Hudson Heights, is a well-worn route for thousands of cyclists who ride on the paths along the Hudson River in Manhattan and over the George Washington Bridge to and from New Jersey.