Nate B.
Yelp
Nestled in an emerging genre of recovered public spaces taking styles from dilapidated parking lots, endless construction jobs and grassy, halcyon fields, East Rive State Park provides a respite from city life while also offering one of the best free views of it around.
I like this place whole bunches. It's not the best park in town but it's the closest to me, and there's just enough of a sea breeze smell on a windy day to make it feel like I've escaped both from Manhattan and its Williamsburg extension.
It's at its best during the daytime. If you arrive before 11am on a weekend, the place is entirely yours. If you arrive after 1pm, you'll notice quite a crowd.
On the summer days hipsters, Polish grandmothers and even the occasional Hasidic family will be out to catch some sun. Tourists and locals often come to take photos for their Facebook profiles - the skyline is muted by the distance, haze, and smog, and perfectly placed to bring out the most important part of any photo, your face. Bring a blanket if you want to lie around, the geese have marked territory everywhere. I feel bad for the cityfolk who don't know any better before they take a seat.
Aside from the geese being bothersome, so are the frequently bored park rangers. They're well meaning but sometimes get all up in your space. You're not allowed to take photos here without a permit - it's a State Park - and the rangers enforce this at their discretion. The bigger your camera, the more likely it is you'll get the boot. It depends on the mood they're in.
Also consider that you can't bring your dog in (you shouldn't, the social overload isn't fair to the pup and, thusly, the public), and can't ride your bike through. Chain the bicycle to the racks near the entrance. BBQ grills are only allowed on the concrete, erm, mesa thing. Since it's a NY State park, technically you can't spit, throw stones, make "unreasonable noise", gamble or tell fortunes.
The park does close early, roughly at sunset, but the (solar powered) lighting system they're installing suggests that things may be afoot for an extension to traipsing times.
Irrevlevant anecdote: I once helped the park rangers not set someone's pet freshwater turtle free into the briny East River. The poor little Red-eared Slider didn't have a chance but they were really trying to get the thing to swim out to sea. Eventually it (a she, I think) went home with one of the rangers.