I sat on a stump, with a cup of coffee. Chatting with a couple of the young neighborhood kids.
Not saying much. Just sitting, lots going on. Planting and cleaning. Opening of the pumptrack.
I left and went for a long easy road ride.
I swung by on my way home. Put my foot up on the fence. Looking in.
There was a cue, long one, of young kids, to get onto the small track.
and dudes, were riding the big track.
A lady, leaned on the fence, and just talked.
I did 3 visits to help a bit at the track.
This track, its real nice, why? Its philly. Just made by hard work, soulfulness, laughing a bit.
and fucking wiping it out, kicking ass.
I toiled just a wee bit, many toiled way more, moving dirt, stone.
and it was just built, to ride, just to ride.
and the kids, worked, and then ride.
Kenn was there every time I came by. He's got his head on straight enough, relaxed, but firm in direction.
It all came done, dressed in the last couple of days, and became a place.
This bit of unwanted land, the cities, dumped on, hidden.
It is a little mecca.
Just taking some beat up land and making it a place to ride.
I think what makes the track was the kids that came to it. to ride
great job Kenn, and all others, Really well done.
best regards, dlowe.