I left after the last sprint this morning quick.
Just coasted around to the stop sign, 7 done.  Good ones, full efforts, Hard to the line.
My mind, soupy, as if, I'd drank one of them big 50's restaurant drinks, a Volcano, full of tasty booze, meant for two.

I waited at the light, crossed, filled my bottle, and headed out of the city, swimming up stream,
against the a.m. flow in.

the rowers, were Eakins, coming alive, with the back light, the breeze a vanilla malt,
the women, going by, I swear each one looked at me in the eye, a bit of evil, a lot of lust,
I kept falling in love
so exotic.

I cut the grass pulled weeds drank a beer put down mulch took a nap to head out to a ball game on a pleasant night with friends.

I was justifiably reward for my hard work.
7 hard sprints, to the line.

Cheers! dlowe

got some new kicks, made of Tyvek, very pleasant, does the trick.



I have not ridden much this week, an easier week.
The rides I did do, GV30, Monkey's Mountain Bike Fairhill, a bit of Saturday night sscx.
and each one, was special, I feel fit, fit enough to have fun and confidence, to have pep,
to go hard.
I'll never be the fittest or the best trained.
I love my work, and what I do, is not really conducive to training schedules.
I do the both, the best I can.

Last weekend, some pictures popped up on facebook, Ott's Barn 1/29/43.   That's our house.
and I was out loading gear in my truck, for work and a man, sweating and stuttering a bit, came up the drive, he grew up on our street, he told us about our house, we showed him around,  he traveled back into time, his memories, and it must of been good times, he said he'd cry,...
but he talked excitedly, and pointed here and there,  what a grand surprise.

I don't know if I'd ever want to live anywhere else,  heck it's hard to get us out of the house to take a vacation.   I don't know, ....maybe just a trip and ride at Fairhill with friends,  that's far enough,  the couple of hours spent there just pedaling about, riding,  I really think thats all I need.

Cheers!  dlowe.



Inside Wharton Esherick's house,  it's a museum,  the personal space, his work, his shirts in a cool pull out drawer under his cool bed, he built, level to the windows on his second story, with a view, from the top of one of the hills of valley forge, out over farm land. 
     The guide touching the table top, a long slow brushing, affection.  Soon we all were touching things, softly rubbing items, everything, almost everything Wharton made of wood.   

I leaned my bike against the wood wall of one of his buildings,... we were told that he wanted his home, his work, to be Alive, well she did'nt say alive, but,... living, to interact, his carvings and art, functional and sensual!!!

I road out to Wharton's home today, I'd plan to ride there with my friend Kelly Cline, yesterday.  our wives would drive out, we'd tour the place, eat cheese and drink wine in his kitchen.   but the weather, rain was foretasted for the afternoon, that bogused my plan, instead,  I got out early and did a swell cx ride, of places I love, trails I love, trees, woods, dirt,  fucking LOVE!

today, I walked back into the Esherick musuem shop space, with a road cleated click a clack, 
and I knew the man behind the small counter musta thought I looked, like, familiar, I said "Hello",
"I would like this pack of five cards" placing the packet on the table,  "I did'nt think my legs would get me up the hill",  "thank you for such a nice night yesterday", ... I fiddled the cards into my cycling vest pocket,   unfazed, he said, "it was a nice evening",  "thank you". 

what a really wonderful visit this weekend

Cheers!  dlowe


Unrequited Love

Always one of the favorite bikes,  the one keen and I am affectionate for, it's the one, a bit of a monster, cobbled, dented.  Really been well loved!
 It's the one, that, does not get respect, not loved enough,.   It's the one bike, that hangs on the wall, that the populace only tends to pull down for the trendy St. paddy-Pallooza-WCofWhateverYear.  Zonk!  My love the SSCX.

I don't like to be beat, I looked at the results......

beaten again by "Mister Vanderbacon" .  by 5 seconds,.... crushed, so close,  Loved!

I had a blast at Monkey Hill TT,   here is a great race report from Mister Vanderbacon:

Monkey Hill Time Trial (Wilmington Grand Prix)

I like the course, the loud volume of cheers, as I suffered onto  the top of the cobbled Monkey Hill.

and the cobbles, the wet corners, the speed, handling, the digging deep,
an excellent contest.

Cheers!  dlowe