guided by vices

 

Guided by Voices - "wrecking now" 

 

 

The door to my hotel room needed some English to open.   It was a bit difficult, and easy, I just had to pull a it towards me, and insert the key, and it opened.     Just the right amount of enough tension,  not too much.   I went "home" for the weekend.  I made visits to my family, friends, more family. 3 cities, 5 stops.  I grew up in Columbus ohio,   I left Ohio, after college, 1986 I moved to Philadelphia,  its the place I feel most at home.



 

 



 I don't talk to or see my dad often, 

back in '82  w/Fernando and Rodrigo, riding in a Volkswagen bug, we took this gravel corner to hot and bent the post to its side. (well it was a fence post around here).

I lived in a rented house on farm land with a bunch of cows.

The house stood here.

and this jungle gym, I was surprised that its still here, so its from the '70s.

It'd be great if I understood the feelings, or had answers for questions, even if I could just make up something that sounded like a good story of a visit. 

In the end, its was a good trip, I took a lot in, and, it was about time, that I went back.

Cheers, dlowe

pretzel and coke

this headstone is almost worn bear, and despite how popular and important the man was, now his bones lay in the ground beneath a weathered beaten gravestone, that is almost impossible to read.


Yesterday I visited the gravesite, of Richard Harding Davis.   came across his name in my reading journeys, he was born in Phila. and his bones are in the ground in Roxborough.    I don't know much about him, he was dashing journalist adventure taker, early 1900's.   He sounded interesting enough to me that I got one of his books now in the queue pile.

I did not know where his grave was, in the graveyard, that is off of Ridge Ave., behind Bob's diner.
The graveyard is a bit overgrown.  I did find a picture of the gravestone on the internet, and was able to take enough clues from the pic to easily track it down.

While I was trying to look at the pic, walking the graveyard path, squinting, I dropped the phone, as I have many of times, I picked it up, acid trip screen, boo, my 5 year old droid phone is dead.

My wife has been on me for years to get an iphone, mainly so I can figure it out and then teach her the tricks.

I'm anti apple, but caved in and got the phone.

1st picture on the phone, Pretzels and coke, in Phoenixville.
mmphuff,  it does take a nice photo

 

My goal, on todays ride, was a pretzel and a cold coke.

It was a long flat ride today.  Felt good in the heat. I did not think much while riding, mostly listened to music.  I did for a brief period veer away from the blankness, I thought a bit about the Drives ride last night.  Not for long,  I then went back to the thoughts of the pretzels and coke.   Reached Phoenixville, ate on a stoop outside the pretzel shop, chatted a bit with a local about bike racing.  and road back home. 


Cheers, d.

gladwyne

secret passages, they do exist.   I guess I've been riding long enough, and that I am curious enough, that I've have discovered a few.   Most are right there, close to the popular trails, but hidden, not groomed, not the same flow, or maybe, not socially excitable as others.

the base of "horse legs" climb

jump the rail off the highway ramp

today it was mild, toward the chilly side, 60's maybe rain, maybe light drizzle.   I worked on my pit cx bike and got it in good order, and knew I wanted to go ride the trails, that are special to me, I feel that I own, discovered.  I know that is far from the truth, but these are not Wissahickon, or Belmont.   These are quite trails, made, in my opinion, to meet all the needs, to suit me,  of a good cross ride.

It was one of the beautiful days in the woods, very green but not overgrown, misty, and enough precipitation to pelt the leaves with a light percussion,  smell, sight, sound, maybe a little taste of splattered mud a rare once in a while.   I was damp, but not wet, my body kept the soggy kit warm.



every now and then I'll take someone with me, but that's rare.   It is more enjoyable to ride these trails alone.



I came across a young man at the base to the climb "boys to men" and he was asking trail questions.  I have to say, that I was not rude, but I felt no need to divulge much of what I knew of all the trails back here.   maybe sometime at work, I learned that someone can tell you how or why to do something, but you don't learn it till you discover it yourself anyways.   Like giving someone a map, the roads, creeks, topo, its there, but not the journey, not the why, and how, it ends taking you, that it needs to take you,  the way along the way that you find it.

 

as much as I love riding these trails, I loved discovering them, and its the place where I ride, where I stop often, and am in awe, so overwhelmed by the landscape, that I feel empty.  No worries, needs.

"Gladwyne  was settled in 1682 by Welsh Quakers. It was near the Welsh Tract, and was known formerly as "Merion Square". It was given its new name in 1891 in order to imitate the stylish Welsh names of adjoining towns, although the name is meaningless in Welsh."

 

a meaningless name, for sure, a perfect place for me to ride.

 

Cheers, d.

easy week, easy nights

I hit up Cadence today,
to order two CX bikes, 
around this time of year I start getting it together.
I've been off the cross bike mostly.  mostly road miles
today, I went out on the old cx bike, and limped it along, mostly rolling pretty good,
a couple of skips in the shifting, but still running well enough to get 30miles in.

I'll keep one of old frames, and make it into a single speed, I'm afraid, the other,  It will be sold and move on.

It is unusual that I'm sentimental about a bike,  or the equipment.  
I was never in a deep love with these two.
I got a lot of use outta them, and trips, trails and loops I found around my house.
tons of racing.  Riding with friends, cross practices.  ordering the new bikes sort of makes me, gracious to the past,
They, the bikes, stand there in my memories, as some of my friends also.

It was a nice night yesterday, I grabbed a book, a bottle, and my camera.   took the Free Spirit over to Belmont Plateau, and sat at a table.   
pasted the time, and road home after dark.

Jefferson's wading in Bourbon.

cheers, dlowe.