I had my nose under the tail and a bit up the butt, like a dog.
on the back of the two leaders, getting towed along
Sitting 3rd wheel is very unusual for me. and I don't know why, I felt frisky.
And when one of the many tight turns, got Kelly Clines front wheel washed a bit, turned him sideaways, and he dabbed, I went down.
Durn it.
and now I was sitting Sixth.
I rode my eyeballs out, and payed for that two. Trying to pedal through corners, I clipped the ground twice, and it sent me down again and again.
I chased as hard as I could, with a compatriot.
but did not move up. got 8th. unimportant. felt great.
and I imagine that to be part of a team Philadelphia Ciclismo putting on a grand race,
the Crossasaurus Awesome, that not only did I have a grand two days of helping make the race happen, I had a grand day watching racing, doing 2 races, also getting to racing my SS Free Spirit/Ted Williams Quality one more time.
Thanks to you all for coming out, I hope you got to race your eyeballs out, and you folks, good folks, made it a grand day for sure.
Long Live Cyclocross!
Good racing weekend.
Whirlybird on Saturday, saw the grand English band Wolf People play a puny stage, prog-rocking it out Saturday night. Up early and out the door to the lovely Copper River Cx race.
I met a sweet pup at Cooper River Cx.
it was the highlight of my day.
Ms. Tippy, 7yr old, wanting to find a warm, loving home.
Clair Sauer, I give her much respect. Doing what she does, trying to place these sweet creatures in loving homes.
make your next companion pet a rescue,
Street Tails Animal Rescue http://www.streettails.org/
We have 5 cats, all strays.
We've got Patrick, the one with cancer.
He's living day by day now.
When it looks like that life, that it is not worth living for him no more.
We've made the decision, to put him to sleep.
The last couple of weeks I've been in a shit mood.
Not Patrick.
His mood is up-beat, strong, and inspirational to me.
Animal, creatures, they amaze and inspire me.
Their strength, caring, smarts.
after racing the weekend today is as all think to be an off day, recovery.
I did hill repeats, felt good, going up Rose Glen, and down.
I've always seen the not to trespass sign just across the base of the bridge.
Today, I went in, it was nice, a good place to sit.
just one bird chirped,
I sat still for a bit,
they flew about, then a lot chirped.
Poor Moon - "Birds"
good riding,.....and sitting, at the creek at the base of Rose Glen.
and there looks to be a nice switch back, old bridlewilde path, going up the bluff.
I don't think there is anything more annoying in life than being uninspired.
I'm enjoying my days, riding, good beers, home.
The worst days of my life, are really pretty spectacular.
Even just sitting on the door stoop to our house, looking out.
The wind, leaves, oak aged beer.
Its good.
I've been riding the old Free Spirit set up as a cx ss machine. got out for a nice ride in the cool day, drizzle.
I always ignored Liz Phair. Its come to me now, the love of this album, "exile it guyville"
somewhere in her lyrics I heard Liz say she is sitting in seat 27d, and wanting to be in a Galaxy 500 video. (stratford-on-guy)
Liz Phair - "Stratford-on-Guy"
One of the last mosquitos of summer flew poorly by, circled and landed on my bicep.
I let him bite, and fill his old body. It took a bit.
He looked up, full. Could hardly fly.
Managed to stagger away.
I was standing along the tape, taught enough to keep aligned, but bellowed by the wind.
The riders went by fast, some feeling like they were burning, on fire.
Others, tired, yearning to hold onto the power and speed they had during the first lap.
The ones in front, today, they thought of tactics. The value of suffering on, was,
a chance to win.
An official, pointed at the man, signaled him off the course. Pulled.
I don't like to stand in the eye line.
Liz Phair - "Mesmerizing"
Almost everyone I knew had left for home. I kept my room an extra night.
Driving back after the last race, I wanted a six pack.
Drove past the hotel parking lot, turn left at the light, parked and headed into the supermarket.
I was standing on the rubber mat sensor, the door opened, and a couple, just a bit older than me were headed in.
"I'm from out of town, what is the laws for buying beer hear, can I get it here?"
"no" the Woman said,
Her mate nodded.
they both looked, thinking of the time.
"A package shop" I asked.
"down the road, in the shops along with the Dunken Doughnuts."
They stop selling at six.
not enough time for a full thank you, just a nod
and I was off with their look of, "make it in time."
I sat at the first light with 5 mins.
the second with three. just waiting to make my left turn into the lot, to park
I could see the shop.
and at 5:59 I respected the laws of buying booze in RI and put my
goods down on the formica to pay.
I did not see Providence.
I raced, and watched races.
I felt good, my tired body, I made no eye contact with anyone outside the tape while I raced.
I heard my name, yelled, and I did go.
The light rain in the starting grid.
I looked up the road.
The whistle.
Wheel slips, spins, too much weight forward, a suck ass start.
Its good.
on the pavement, out of the wind, but the bits of mud that break free from the tires in front of me splatters my face.
I caught the 5 or 8 in front of me by the last corners.
but up the road to the finish they all sprinted past.
Racing.
I don't know. I was done. I knew my place, well before I finished.
The good crowd, full of love, beer, bourbon, single speed, Philadelphia.
got a good lap of Mo time during the SS race.
Just in the little ring.
today
and to the same local places.
I'm into this thing, of seeing forgotten memorials for everlasting memory.
Life moves at different speeds, some of us are inside the tape.
Just sitting here now, I want to be out riding. Or when its a windy cold rainy day. Out walking.
I just keep going, way beyond what should be my half way point.
I feel better tonight after feeling like crap for the last couple of days.
Despite two hard crashes.
Maybe tomorrow I'll have legs.
I sat far back in the starting grid. Clipped in, all I'd seen was the seam.
Went, then, And held back a bit. and hit the grass 12th maybe.
Maybe tomorrow I can make it to the front, off the start. into the fresh clean air.
Heaven, a beer, a good song, my hands on a warm body, my legs on a good ride.
galaxie 500 - "another day"
I want to hit the ramp and get a little lift, up into the air, and ride away from fading cheers. Off into a cloud.
I got the email hyping the new gopro camera. I watched the incredible video. Of scenes of hugging lions, jumping off peaks, swimming with a whale in the sea.
I layed in bed this morning and worried a bit about my imagination. The importance to have a quest, to make a discovery.
Our world, mine at least, is in bloom.
I realize that I am a lucky one. That at this point in time, that my world, is expansive, and for the most part I am truly free, I am smart enough to play by the rules, or manipulate them, avoid, or operate un-detected
tintype by Melissa Cacciola
on Lonnie Holly.
I love listening to Bill Callahan's music.
Lonnie Holley is opening for Mr. Callahan. In Philly and as I've said, up in Providence. by chance, I'll be there also. Racing my SS Friday afternoon, then sitting in a beautiful theatre to enjoy the show.
Lonnie Holley
Is a special performer. much like .....,
a conciseness streamer, of his soul, current life, using the large obvious social influential aspects, the things that just have come about in large forms, touching our dense large population.
The tintype.
A show up at the Alice Austen House. Just to stand in that house would be an experience for me.
and that it still stands, and that she and her photographs were remember, and forgot and remember again.
Ms. Austen at her home:
I guess its what I needed to go with my morning coffee today, A thought to rattle about in my head, to obsess over a bit, as I tinker on my SS bike and prep for my trip. As I think of questions to ask Lonnie, if by chance, my Facebook message gets through, makes sense, and I meet him tonight.
Its nice to write about the future, and I look forward to finishing this story, writing from the memories of tonight.
from The New York Times: Lens. Melissa Cacciola speaks. (I did cut and rearrange the words to make the statement that I wanted)
“Why do I think tintypes are so powerful.....these objects were treasured....it might have been the only portrait of someone is haunting....kept close...might be all you have of someone far away or gone" ".....Can we really say that about an photo?”....
....“I’ve never seen anything like them. Ever"...
ah, how I wish I could take this in, yes, it is something that I want to see,.... I know, that I like this feeling, yearn, that maybe, its better to imagine them.
Not see them. Well I don't have to worry about that. if I'd step in the door, see them hanging on the walls. Walk up stand in front of them and peer. Absorbing.
my book, how I learned about Alice, my empty coffee cup, time to start the day
Its one of a few books I'd want to always have and keep, one I love to read over and over again.
Everytime, it pulls me in so deep, that I've forgot that I've read it before.
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