Once, on a wintry morning walk through Central Park, a place I’m lucky to say is a 10-minute walk from my home, I came face to face with a coyote. Whether it was Romeo or Juliet, two of Central Park’s most elusive mascots, I’ll never know. But the sighting felt like some kind of divine privilege, a fast track through the 10 years it takes to become a real New Yorker. As I continued to wander through The Ramble, graced with a few red cardinals for good measure, I was struck by the realization that there’s still so much of my beloved backyard that I don’t know.
I pride myself on my average ability to spit New York City facts on the fly. I love to point out the hidden peephole at the IFC Center whenever I’m passing by the theater with a friend, or make sure whoever is sitting next to me on the Q from Brooklyn keeps their eyes peeled for Masstransiscope (1980). But when it came to Central Park, all I could really offer was the trick to finding your way via the cast-iron lampposts. (For those who don’t know: Each post features a stamped code, the first two or three digits matching the nearest cross street, the final digit revealing what side you’re on—east if it’s even, west if it’s odd). Thank you, TikTok.
I love playing tourist in my own city, but I’m skeptical of any experience that might lead me to museums about ice cream or sex. When a scroll through a list of NYC-specific Airbnb Experiences prompted me to “Uncover Central Park’s Secret Places,” I was immediately intrigued. The tour, led by Bruce Racond of Revolutionary Tours, promised to take curious attendees to sites rarely seen above 100th Street, from cascading waterfalls to Revolutionary forts. Racond hosts these tours every Sunday for a little over a dozen guests, and I was able to book a spot for my friend and me a week in advance. We were told to come prepared with comfortable shoes, as we’d be winding through the park for two and a half hours.
When I found myself early for the tour on a bright July afternoon, chatting with some fellow group members, I was surprised to learn that not only were many of the attendees locals like me, but a few were repeat guests of Racond’s. One loyal couple in particular, who came to the city from Long Island, told me that despite spending the entirety of their lives in New York, they’ve consistently found themselves enlightened by Racond’s knowledge.
When our extolled, khaki-wearing tour guide turned and asked what brought me here, I mentioned the coyote, asking him if he’d ever seen one of the four-legged paramours. He said no, but not without recognizing my profound luck. I liked his vibe immediately—like that of a good-humored history teacher. Born in New York, Racond knows the city intimately; he’s a historian with a master’s degree in American history and has been a licensed tour guide for over 25 years.