impending

Its just that cross is starting soon. 
Perfect weather today, the windows are open, stereolab, Nina Simone,  all the good music is up in the mix.
I had a very pleasant ride today.
This day, its a day for reward, for racing in 39 degrees mud.   For flatting and running the longest distance possible to the pits for a new bike.  For training intervals.  For coming in 39th.
Pleasant.

I am just waiting for a pot of water to boil, to cook some pasta.
all the doors are open.  And as the wind, blows through the house, the gas flame burner on the stove, gets to much of a breeze and almost blows out but not.

I am waiting for my wife to come home from work.  
A late afternoon ride for me, a shower, I smell good.


Hell, I love these days.  I love them.
The tree we planted 10 years ago, its full of leaves.


I never fixed the hole where the squirrel got into the house.

paying tributes to the gods, to me,  I am one tonight.

Birds

Paul Weller - "Come On Let's Go"

I just looked at the women, her mouth moving, words into words.
Interject?  she'd raised the volume, and just sped up a bit.

I, sitting on the couch, I've made myself at home on, with a beer, shoes off.
It was a long day, up at 5, full day of work,  then seeing the Mod-father Paul Weller at Union Transfer.

a good show, loud, good selection of song, faster,  just a couple of old ones.   I had my camera, but just to take the 3 or 4 shots I did, that's all I could muster up.  
The shot I wanted, I didn't think of it, visualize it till riding the bike today, in the rain.
A couple of times during or at the finish of a song, he'd turn, head towards his stash on the right corner of the drum riser, and shoot out a good gob.   That's the shot I wanted last night, Paul spitting onto the floor of the stage. The gob flying stage bound, lips still pursed.  Working.     Well its just an image in my mind, that'll last as that.

I did not know the chatting woman, I knew Mark, from racing, and ran into him outside the venue.  I sat with him and a couple of other birds, and listened, to records and recantations of the past.  Till midnight, got up, drove home, had a beer, and went to bed.   Lee "how was the show?",  "It was good, a good night", I said.  She was right back to sleep.

We all looked so old, aged, the audience, I suppose we are.

best regards, david.



Paul Weller - "Fly Little Bird"

Podium

once in a while, a photograph, captures a true moment.
our team, at a sponsor's place, hanging out the day before putting on a local race.

I don't know, nothing to say, much.    People raced, tactics, a bit of rain, Podium, Podiums are quite important, for sure.   

 

The women's fields were a bit small, next year, I want us to double the number of women racing.
The frickin men's 1,2,3.  good race to watch,  attacks, f' bombs in the sprint,

mostly a good day for all, a little road rash, and I hope the PC master rider, who  crashed hard,  I hope he is fine, and that his wife is not too mad at him.


Frodo was spent,   Craig and Natalie's rescue, he is a swell pup,  look for him at grasstrack, or come say hey to Frodo at NittanyCx, have a beer, ring some cowbell, Lets gets some Cross on!

cheers racers, d.

Ride on Philly

The land it motivates me.  Food, beers, art, music,  the weather, it motivates me.
not money, power,... I'm trying to get past the need for respectability.  a need for applause.

Stopping on a ride, the smells, beauty, a view from a ball busting climb, its more empowering than anything.  It is a truth.



I've thought a lot about my reactions and what I said, about being asked not to ride on Belmont Plateau.
and its hard for me because, when I get on the bike, and I see the world as a place to ride.  I tend to disregard fences, property lines.
Land, on a bike is,  a place to ride, not owned.  This brief freedom, rare.

an informal group of cyclist/cx'ers  have assembled, we met with the Government.
We talked like people, standing in grass, under a tree.  Me in my kit, and the others of us cyclist, all had pedaled over.  I told them of my route to the meeting, from Bala Cynwyd, to the Belmont trails, across Strawberry Mansion bridge, the boxer trail, to the short steep climb into the back yard of Macpherson house (1765).

an old post from 1/17/11  CR Picking Up Trash

I want us to have a place to ride, legit enough, clean, safe.   I'd love it to be more like a pick-up game of baseball,  more than, chalk lines, officials, time limits, permits.  I'll do what I can, to make my world, work in this world.  We have found a new spot, for PHLCX now to see,  how to make it happen.

Got out for a nice ride on the CX bike yesterday,  places like this, they exist inside the city limits of Philadelphia.

Ride on brothers and sister, free!  dlowe