nice

I got some good advice in an email, It put my head on a bit straighter. 
so I had fun at Wednesday night cross, real good efforts, shoulder to shoulder in the turns, diving in, rude, but all in a way that meant no harm, just a bit of juvenile fun.    And that smile brought out some pop in the legs.
 

Mrs.  "Red Bacteria Vacuum"
these ladies are going to be driving my intervals tomorrow, maybe in the pouring rain, tis good!

nice day today, working on a shoot, with my wife.  Now shes off to a 2nd gig, a night shoot.  Night shoots are tough, let alone, going from the day gig into a night job.  I'll do some riding and running errands tomorrow while she sleeps, down to DC to visit family Saturday, and some nice racing Sunday at the Hillbillly Hustle.  One of my favorite races.

Looking into todays set.

We sorta pool are celebrations, it was

a belated birthdays/real early anniversary (24th) dinner at Osteria. Nice place, but only pretty good, quite a bit distant from great.

cheers, d.

Niche!

You need to get a quite good  grasp on your perversions.  Them evil rattling around the your soul ones.   Cause you gotta know whats black inside ya and whats white.   Why?   cause its not a matter of how average, or happy, or busy you' r.  you need to try to earn your love.  You need to sleep quiet and still.
When you close your eyes you want  to feel peace.  When your in the world you want to walk,  soul full, content and knowledged.

I truly admire those who do more, who show their talents.  and somehow I feel apart of their,...  it.

As the racers went by Sunday, I almost shouted out everyone of their names, to battle harder to move up, all of them. 

GRINDERMAN II 



I love feeling the intensetiy of life, the pulse, boiling over.


Cheers, dlowe.

turmoil

    Spell-Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
i moved to philly in '86.  I remember seeing a show sometime back then.  In some downstairs club on Chestnut st.

Mr. Cave looked to be a junky.    He sat on the stool next to me, asked for a glass of vodka and ice.  Downed what he could and asked for a bottle, stood, grabbed the bottle and went to the stage.  

From Her to Eternity,  a moody, strong album.  One I really love.

the town felt evil.   Dirty.  With its own hierarchy of power.  be it legit or illegal.  

I fell in love with Phila.   much as I've fallen in love with cross.

I tossed and turned last night, I slept like a man with a guilty conscious.   cross can do that to me.

I awoke, clear headed and to drizzle.  I made today my "2nd" day, a hard ride.  I found one flower in the field, maybe its some kind of weed.   It stood out.  Rare.

maybe time to revisit some David Goodis.

Blah

I need a break-out race, something, some kind of cliche.  That is it. No artsy photo, no soulful words or convoluted statements on the meaning of life. 

I went back to the basics, Hop Devil. 

maybe if I bury something in the yard,.... todays race#. 

ah, still great to be racing,.... It's  just squeezing  my inner id a bit.  there you go that's more like me.

See ya at the HillBilly Hustle.   Cheers up! dlowe.

Consume

it all starts out simple, just screwing in some toe spikes and getting out for a bit of skills,... lackadaisically riding.   Its a quite day, and spinning around a grave yard seems to be the place to ride easy.   A quite place, all in order, meandering, groomed, calm, absorbing.  

Dungen

I've been a bit hesiantant about hopping into the crypt, its a rickety climb up some stacked tree stumps and cinder blocks, and a bit of a tight squeeze through the window.

Hopping down onto the ground inside a space so dark, my eyes took a bit to acclimate to the ambient light.

I took small steps, afraid I might fall into a hole and disapear or step on a corpse.

Sparse, I snapped away. 

This ones going to take a bit more work than usual.  I'm going to need a tripod, a real camera, if I want to cleanly capture the room.

Off season work.

Cheers to recovery days, dlowe.

Eudaimonia

                               I like the cobbles, never enjoy them.  Lucky to have them.

 With Granogue in mind,  I've added them into my workouts.

                                          buffalo killers- "let it ride"

         Granogue, Louisville USGP, Beacon, HPCX , followed by Fairhill.  Thats a nice block of racing.  Its like looking at that cobble climb.  It makes me a bit nervous, feeling challenged, and in a strange way sorta proud to be able take them on.   Cheers, dlowe.

                                         

some whoopie pie for me, later...

BOOM

Yep its here, full on, real racing, cross racing.

You just give your all.

and when you are done, who knows what thoughts are left in your head, what gibberish comes out of your mouth, you just sit back, and inhale/exhale the good life.  The cyclocross life. 

Cheers to the ever abundant love of Charm City Cross.  cheers! dlowe.

tuned-up

Here...Pavement.

I go through, reliving my lines, my efforts, they come back to me in stuttered frames slow motion.  I can't remember it all, just the gist of it.

Wednesday night's cross practice left me charged up. 

My workouts are: warm up good, intense, cool down long and regain my senses.  Its during that cool down time, that the world looks a bit different.

Does it glow?

Today, I needed to do some quick hits, to get ready for racing tomorrow.

I hit the road and trails and ended up with a good patch to work with just behind the Mann Music Center. 

No mp3 player, I wanted to be able to listen to my bike, to make sure it sounded right to race on.

I recognized the sound in the air, and as I pushed it, Pavement was just starting to jangle their way into a sound check.

got done and rode up to the fence. 

talked a bit to the bass player Mark's dad.

He came up to me as I watched through the fence and saw me on the bike and wanted to talk a bit about the riding around the park.  He's from Lancaster, and visits a bit.

He seemed very proud of his son.

We talked about an early Pavement show at the Khyber we both attended.

How he almost got his head knocked off by the blades of the low hanging ceiling fan.

That was a great show.

That sitting around time, the bullshiting, isn't that part of why you ride?  For the bullshit you want to share about it?

Just behind the Mann theres a path into the weeds, it leads to a small clearing.

Set up, out of the way, but clearly set up to be comfortable for a bit. and shoot the shit.

I look forward to Charm City racing, and what pain, glory and sharing that it brings.

Bring it on!

cheers, d.

Feed

header photo by Dennis Smith, cheers!

It was a tough weekend for me.  The racing was tough enough, let alone hitting the turf hard both days.   When I got home, tired and thinking----

I looked up at the horse shoe hanging above my door and walked over and gave it a rub, a rub for some luv' from the cyclocross gods. 

I don't really want or need any love or luck.   I had a great weekend.  I raced hard and somehow I think I learned something or two.

I held back the first day, and did not protect my line.  I paid for it.

(thanks Dennis for the great photos)

I went harder today, and still gave in a bit and let a gap open because I was afraid to put in a "too hard of" effort. 

In closing that gap, trying to come back to the group I rolled a tire.

I had more to give, I found out, as I ran to the pit and red lined the rest of the race trying to make up for my naive glueing abilities.

Later I asked  a few questions,  What line did you ride through the mud?   Did you remount before or after the tree?

and in a brief conversation with Adam Myerson I got his insight into the last two corners of his race, the small hole he left open, where no one thought you could pass, and where he got beat.

Me a frikin old guy, still learning what I can.  I love cross because of this, of riding up to someone, someone with a load more talent and skill, and talking to them.

I got to the race early today, and enjoyed watching the first race.  The desire.

Cheers, may your tires stay stuck on tight, fucking don't give up your line, and you can go harder. dlowe.

Numen

Its close enough now to start the rituals. 

I found this strewn below my favorite tree on Belmont Plateau.  

I bit it 3 times tonight at PXp (philly cross practice).  Just so dry, No Bite In The Corners.  A good warm up, and some useful knowledge going into this weekends race.

I try to fight the urges of rituals. 

cheers, dlowe.

Outliers

I took a snapshot on my way into work the other morning.  I like the sun at its lower angles.

and I knew I'd be on ice most of the day.

so I tried to soak it in.

Mark's  http://feathermanblog.blogspot.com/  new blog is good, and well written. Making me think a bit. He's quite a  bit better with the verbage than me.

it lead me to Outliers.

I'm not a believer, simple, "sucsess" does not equate to sucess.

What really got me going on this blog was an act of vandalisim.  A large buddha had its head stolen, and with its head gone the statue all of a sudden meant something to me.

I could see ideas float into the air instead of into its head.

With its head it was a religious icon of some sorts with rules I did not know or understand.

and I write on.

my days go where they may.  at one moment, I'm free, the next I'm not.   I'm as use to it as you can be, its good for me. I like all of my apples to be a bit out of line, and maybe a peach stuck in there, why do things need to be predictable anyway?

Today I took the bikes and all the wheels to the park, why?  Predictablity.  Running through it all, checking to see that its working the way I want.  Trying to make better predictabilty.

If I had kids, I'd put out the yard sprinkler and wait for the sun to set a bit.    Put the kids in the water, and let it all be lit by the golden back light.  I'd snap away with my camera/phone.  Might take a few tries, might get lucky.  

Cheers, dlowe.

some more SS, the reason, Scott Henry was right.


click on the ss link and get it for yourself.  (bandcamp)

Laccifer

Inside my skin, my blood runs a golden carmel color.  Its more of a sap that moves through my veins.   It only turns red when the skin is broken and it hits the air outside of my body.    My blood, some would say is more like shellac, a bugs secretion, and I'd have to agree, proudly.

  I'm in love with the color of the coat of glue on my tires.  Despite the tedious process, and the lack of days before my first race, my freshman knowledge of the process of attaching tubular tires to wheels, and the tired, deep buzz from my beer, I've got a warm, human feeling about all of this.  


Just think, soon you'll be standing in the grid.  Somewhere in the 8 across lines.  Waiting for a random sound, to go.   Beat it. scram. d.

Ground

I already told my wife to "make me ride the bike".    I'm here still thinking and drinking.  I'll ride the bike.
I do need to spin out my legs.                         Just a work day.

                                                               Dusk set in south Philly.

                                                    The rusty building in the navy yard.

                                             

I'll clip in and just coast along, up, down,up,down.  Easy, fast, smooth.  Then to bed, I must, someone, everyone wants to beat me.  To sprint past me at the line.  I gotta be ready. 

This, despite not being very "obsucure" is what I'll give you for music. NEW Sufjan Stevens.  If I listen to it twice, I'll have my easy spin down and be to bed.   I must tell ya, I kicked the growler.   and I'm trying to motivate myself to kick your ass.

a toast, "to those who are in front of me.  I must pass you."  cheers, dlowe.



I'm done with my spin.    Buzzed with earbuds in spinning my legs that were not connected to me.  A motor going round.  Vibrating into the ground.   night.