86th Street is a local station on the IND Eighth Avenue Line of the New York City Subway, located at Central Park West and 86th Street. It is served by the C train at all times except late nights, when it is replaced by the A train. The B train provides additional service when it operates on weekdays.
This underground station, opened on September 10, 1932, has two levels with northbound trains on the upper level and southbound trains on the lower one. From west to east, each level has one side platform, one local track and one express track. The express tracks are used by the A train during daytime hours and the D train at all times.
The platforms have no tile band and name tablets read "86TH ST." in white sans serif lettering on a Midnight blue background with a black border. There are small "86" and directional signs in white lettering on a black background. Blue I-beam columns run along both platforms at regular intervals with alternating ones having the standard black station name plate in white lettering.
This station has three fare control areas, all of which are on the upper level. The full-time one is at the south end and has a turnstile bank, token booth, and three street stairs. One goes up to the northwest corner of 86th Street and Central Park West while the other two go up to the southwest corners. Right inside fare control, there is a staircase going down to the lower level.
The station's other two entrances/exit are unstaffed. The one at the center of the upper level is unstaffed and has a staircase connecting both platforms and one that goes up to the northwest corner of 87th Street and Central Park West. The third fare control area has two HEET turnstiles, one exit-only turnstile, and one staircase going up to the northwest corner of 88th Street and Central Park West. The staircase here formerly showed a blue diamond B, which was never used for service, but this has since been covered with decals indicating the correct services.
Famous quotes containing the words street, eighth and/or avenue:
“Think of admitting the details of a single case of the criminal court into our thoughts, to stalk profanely through their very sanctum sanctorum for an hour, ay, for many hours! to make a very barroom of the mind’s inmost apartment, as if for so long the dust of the street had occupied us,—the very street itself, with all its travel, its bustle, and filth, had passed through our thoughts’ shrine! Would it not be an intellectual and moral suicide?”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“The eighth day of Christmas,
My true love sent to me
Eight maids a-milking,”
—Unknown. The Twelve Days of Christmas (l. 43–45)
“Only in America ... do these peasants, our mothers, get their hair dyed platinum at the age of sixty, and walk up and down Collins Avenue in Florida in pedalpushers and mink stoles—and with opinions on every subject under the sun. It isn’t their fault they were given a gift like speech—look, if cows could talk, they would say things just as idiotic.”
—Philip Roth (b. 1933)