51st Street Madonna

at the end of my intervals set; sprinting, soft pedal, and a run block.
I easy pedaled down to the man sitting on the stump,
He'd yell not loud, but enough for me to hear, "pick it up"
or "gettie up" or something like that.
each time I got to his end of my interval.

 It was a there and back sets, from the 51st Street Madonna to the Black Cowboy Clubhouse.

"how old are you?" he asked, "54",  I said, thinking my real age not my cross age. 
"looks like fun",  
"it is, I race a bunch of old guys, we try to poke each others eyes out, stab you in the back,...
we laugh about it after racing,  drink some beer,...

"you run with small steps" he said
"yep," I said, "like Tim Johnson,"  "trying"
He said, "work on you arm swing, drive it, don't have a lazy arm"
how old are you I asked him, "56" he said,
"thanks for the cheers, I heard ya each lap" "I'll work on my lazy arm"




I've been going hard, the last three weeks,
thinking about the cross season,
Now's the time for me to take a break, chill, soft pedal, tourist rides shit.
I got out today and did that.

sometime in the last year a mural went up,  on the front of the carpet shop on Parkside Ave

The carpet shops on the edge of a not so great neighborhood, and the park, tough spot to sell rugs I'd guess.   I saw the fresh colors, and pedaled over.

you know as I get older, and some of the loved ones in my life, are gone, my perspective is bent, formed, different, than when I was 25, with a wide open future.

Loss is amazingly painful,  and it comes to us all.

I know I  want to honor, to never forget, ....I want it to be also alive with me.
To Laugh loud, attack hard at the wrong time, to have the perfect season and stand on the podium time and time again.   Just to be alive and do battle,....and it all be with me, part of me.

Shit, there is stuff all over Philadelphia, stones plaques, fountains, tall statues... of people, events battles,  I'll never feel or know.  Forgotten.

Tomorrow, I think I'm gonna pedal out to see the battle ground, where the Marquis de Lafayette
helped save our ass.  It's and easy ride, drop down the hill, into the wiss.  up forbidden drive to the end, left on the rd, right at the end, pop out on church lane.  There it is, at the church, the spot.

                                                 the young frenchie,   Yo Layfayette, thank you!

shit I am enjoying my vacation, Cheers!  dlowe


Water Ice 10

       photo: Brian Biggs

I don't know how many years, or how many we've actually done.  I do know, that its the  F'n good attituded riders, loving cx, pedaling around, on some of the most beautiful, and historic trails, that makes this a super fun cool philadelphia tradition.

and it don't take much to get it to roll out, along,  With Anne Rock at the helm we went on our way.
A few f-bombs, 2 flats, 4 lost folks in the Schuykill Jungle  (they eventually rolled in for ice)
lots of smiles, I rang my bell a lot, and tried to chat and say a hello to each rider, as I went from the tail to the head, just once in awhile nudging the ride along.

      photo: Brian Biggs

This is not a gravel grinder,  to me they don't exist.  A Cyclocross bike is made for adventure, not gravel, it needs the dirt, bush whacking, tarmac, little pebbles, rocks, stumps, trash, trespassing.

Two other fine folk stepped up along the way, my team mate Jason Eicholtz, and the fine master foe, who I will be soon, going to battle against, Kevin Sinclair.    You don't notice, it is easy not to see, but them a leading and a sweeping and a bit of prompting, makes it roll, the ride, keeps it fine and dandy.

                                    photo Anne Rock team Deluxx

The finish line at the Ice hut was long, I did a bit of poaching, bent the rules a bit, I felt just a hair guilty, having Anne in the front of the line snag me an Ice.  Cutting the line ain't cool.
Ha!  I couldn't help myself, sorry, .... I do love the Orange Vanilla Swirl.

Cheers,  thanks for making my day!   dlowe