There was something darkly romantic about circumventing rusted, tetanus-inducing fences on dilapidated piers and watching a lustrous Jersey sunset while the Christopher Street crew engaged in public displays of fellatio and/or smoked crack. Sure, the brand-spanking-new HUDSON RIVER PARK, with its trapeze school, crepe stands, grass-lined piers, and ample bike and jogging lanes, is cleaner, safer, and family-friendly, but welcoming dusk with the Abercrombie-clad metrosexuals and in-liners doesn't stir the soul in quite the same way.