The Specials

I sat on the couch last night and thought about how much life is in a 45ish minutes of a cross race.
Then, it's much More, from the minute my alarm goes off on race day, and I lift my head off my pillow, eating, poops, music for the ride.  The course pre-ride and finding good lines, rocks, segments that I know I'll have to fight getting dropped on.
Twisting the pedal up a hair, in the grid, and knowing that the offical starting ya has quick lips to the whistle so be ready.
This mud, these last races, it lets you know, how you respond, and judge yourself, does'nt it?  It does for me.
One race weak, next race strong, and both I finish in 5th place.
Of all the seasons of racing, loud mouths hecklers, weeded out, training mates, strong.  Blogs dead.
and what I feel out there, I work for it, earned, and it never seems easy,
To you, a pat on the back, well done.
It is a small boat, but we all seem to fit in.

Cheers!
dlowe

Lumps

I know that on a Sunday a few weeks into September, I want nothing more, than have some good racing done.  Some memories, maybe it'll be of sitting under the pop up tent on a little sandy ground, by Sunset Lake, that will last.  That when you wheel me out drooling for a soft food dinner, that don't require much chewing, I'll smirk. and you'll think it's a burp. I'll roll my eyes up, and look at you from under my bushy brows.

Sunday, I got a good bruised knee, on an enjoyable, slippery, great course, with some great new bits, Euro-ish, for a rare battle for me,
where I had 5th for a bit, but lost it, slid out just near the end of the finale lap, and rolled in for 7th.  I wasn't even going to race, but knowing how much I like Bridgeton, I tought I'd just go, maybe a tad easier, and enjoy the Sunday.
Got into it, went way harder, and got a great result.  The mud, rain.

The day befor, a jam band of two, were playing track side, at a course by the Black River, I wiped out, snapped the hanger, just in front of the band, with a limp chain I ran for a long way to the pit, got on my bike.  spit, cussed, sped, and caught the back of the suffering pack, for a 16th.   Good old Townhall.

or will the memory just end up being,  following Kelly back to our cars,
in the spray, and Jersey trucks blowing, with the pit bikes, and a couple of pictures snapped at the steep run up,
confused dreams,
whatever the memories are, I'm sure they will be grand.

dlowe

season 2018

Post race view

                                         

                                   scuttling about the small local parks


I'm five races into this season, I've already retired from cross twice, sat in the penalty box for a foul, stood on the podium,  some mud, some beer, fog, cx practice, drama, and tooling like a warrior on the run, about the local parks around my house tonight.

I've got a plus ten number of 50+ riders in front of me to a win. 
a recycle bin of empties, a many of cx indoor trainer intervals done
I'm not quite deep enough into the season to have any hugs
but I am a work on my handshake grip, and
silent nod listening,
mind blown post race listening

I went out on my bike tonight, by myself,  for a pick up game,
Hop the curb, make the fence cut out, around the tree, sprint.
a Behind the school, fish tail the playground mulch pit, zipity do dah, 500 yard full on dash.
Muscled up a too steep of a climb and shot back down it in the drops, knees knocking,
cause,that's what I need to get better at.

I'll be up early tomorrow to do some core, and off the bike work,
an easy spin, a stretch out, even got some breathing/meditation in there.
Friday, ...openers, Townhall, Beacon...
maybe a new blog, sunday.


dlowe

Granogue 2018

I love the long beautiful drive,
into the land along the brandywine
I love the feelings I feel driving up the road,
the people I will see,
Granogue was the first race for me, of this cyclocross season.
the tower standing looking down on me from on the top of the hill
races
another out come
is a privilege to me
something to  work for

After the race the other night which tonight now seems long ago
I was in bed, thinking, about the biting flies of Granogue,
and hoping I did not bring any of them irritating bastards home with me trapped in my van.
Over the years, unpacking, I have noticed some crickets stowed away in my gear.
and many of them are now living with us, some out in our shed.
That  night I noticed, in the other wise quiet, while not being able to sleep. The sound of those crickets,  and I wondered how many of them are related to those from Granogue.   

A lot of stories of the days started playing in my head.
Thoughts, little snipettes scenes, from racing the Madison Saturday,  to being in the grid Sunday, to post race sitting under the pop up tent chatting, and getting nipped by those Granogue biting flies.
and they blended with the others from over the years,
sitting under pop up tents,
with others, getting dropped in a climb chasing and losing a spot
to a attack this year, in the climb to gain a spot
then losing it mindlessly at the line for 12th.

To tell you the truth, I've always had the hardest time writing,
and having things fresh, new, it did help to invigorate the words
but to write
after many visits, to the same race
it's harder

I could not fall asleep that night.
Boxing those memories again.

and,
If I came back in life as anything, I'd be a few stakes and tape to an off-camber line,
tricky, deceit.
no one thinks they'd make
the pass
the line takes you faster and I don't touch the brakes.
the tops of the tire treads seam up against the post,
I take hold, faster, onward I go.

Cheers, well done again, Granogue 2018.

another season

I was coasting after going across the city line, headed down to belmont, to do my usual openers for cx racing.
following on the hip of a older make of car,
enjoying whifts of sweet pot and tobacco

into the park
just a tame ride on the cross bike, with a ending up in the parking lot of the Mann to do some starts
Its a great place to be, at the head of the cx racing season
It is here.   as sweet as that smoke.

and I wish an hearty and good strong cx raing season to you

Cheers!  dlowe

Cradle-nook

I grew up a bit on my own, wild, to figure out my own means.
not the best way to conjure up confidence,
but strangely enough to hybrid morph myself into what I am.


the first time I felt like  I fit in was with Punk rock,
It felt good, to be myself, and be part of some sorta amoeba substances of
a group where you made up the rules for yourself, and fit in cause I believed I belonged.

This long ago time, was way before mass instant communication,  I'm an old dude bald bloke.
you'd have to write a letter
or dial a phone,
pick up a fanzine,
or trust the gruff clerk at the record store or see a flyer stapled to a telly-pole, and risk if I'd dole out 2-5$ a very limited valuable expenditure  to see a band.  I jone'sd to see good new bands.

somewhere sometime someone said we, all,  drank from the same river
that what was going down in Columbus ohio, was down in a basement of a church in Iowa
rocking it. or a remote cradle-nook of some town of, constants spelled no vowels, in Wales.

That pure thread, which I defined for myself, by what I learn from those I respect.
was bad ass,
totally freedom, and joy,  I felt a  responsibility to it.

that Fjord
spirit, I enjoy
is racing Cross
Today I got to help a bit with a clinic,
learned a bit, listened a lot, and hopefully,
stoked some new souls.

and don't take for granted
the split second that the scream of fear, turns to a laugh of joy
bombing all most outta control down a hill.

Drink deep and often!
dlowe

more ice '18!

       photo: Jules Benson

       photo: Mike Festa

                                   photo: Anne Rock

        photo: Jules Benson

I put Anne's card up on our mantel, next to a photo I took of the Belmont tree many winters ago, and the little cowbell I don't remember what race I picked it up at.
Long live the spirit!

Cheers!,
it is time to train, clean, focus, the fall will soon be here,
And a big hug to  everyone, everything I get outta cycling, cyclocross, and riding in philly.
dlowe.

a Sterling Pig

Sitting on some step, to some old building, leaving a big sweaty ass print,  I pointed, "see that old guy, with, the stars and stripes, on his kit"
with some fellow cyclist friends,
explaining
He was in my race.
and that, seemed more than enough for me.
not how I did, or how I corned the 2nd corner.

I chatted it up with Curtis Southern, chacthing up, I took it all in as he told me how it went down
at road nationals, and crit nationals, and how it went  for him this year.
and He does plan to go for it CX nationals, the 60+ age group,  the man's fassst.
I've raced him a bunch, mostly getting my ass kicked.

there has to be a Kinship,
to our beloved sport
What I need, from it,
I need to make grow.
There are lifer cx racers,
and Cat's that just want to win a prize, and be done with it.
and a ebb
a tide, sometimes driven by excitement, inclusion, popularity,
I can't stop racing,
and riding
and anyway, I just like to listen and talk racing with peeps
I like riding
with friends, and strangers, chatting it up, and always being surprised about something
how they got into cycling,
or that they had a pal that raced in the tour

I made my way to the "beer garden"  a nice, low-down, bit of plastic fence, to signify,
who's in to drink and who can't,
and sat at a round wood table, maybe pulled up from the storage room of the old building
with my vanished ass print on it's step.
a while by myself,
then with a couple of friends,
a townie that when he could, grab my ear and tell my something of grand importance of himself.
I watched the race go by,
and a friend do a good warm up for racing.
I had a second beer, two slices of pizza,
a nap when I got home,
and dreams of how'd if I played it a just bit different,
I'd of won that day.

with that I'd say, the Media Hometown Cycling Classic, is that.

Cheers!
dlowe

Belmont racing night

You'd think, that I would have some pictures of the racing, trails, riders, from tonight's ride.
I don't, tonight racing at Belmont was excellent, a point to point race,
ending on the top of the Plateau,
at the visiting beer garden.
A wonderful night, with a good breeze, and a clear view of the city of Philadelphia.
A night like tonight, makes me glad to live close to the city, to live close to Belmont,
to be able, to get on the bike, ride over to the trails, and, ride.

The thing about racing for me now a days, I want to win, but it's more
I guess when I was 15, I thought about being 16 and getting my drivers license.
and when I was 17, it was being 18 and being able to by 'low" beer.

tonight,
riding back from the Belmont,
on the sidewalk in the dark
much like a kid,
I thought about, how much I love so many people in my life,
how important they are,
smart, clever, cantankerous, pains in the ass.
and milestones,
What age am I at, and what do I put out there in front of me
I ride like a 12 year old not knowing any better, for the vigor, and wonder lust,
that I still have and can't help.
I am going to loose people, dear loves,
and one day I will be lost,
so what the fuck,
I'm not going to live counting down the days, or worry about it,
I going to live tomorrow to make memories,
for myself,  or for others when I gone,
I want to live big, nicely, and love it while I'm at it,

Funny thing about mountain biking, gets me going, the corners, close calls, rock, logs,
or the trickles of blood from not exactly making it right.
My training, has changed over the years, I've added to it a bit,
to regal in the ride, the people, work, to dig deeper,
to try and see the quick moment pass by in slow motion,
and tonight, that is what I have done.

Cheers!
dlowe

Getting the Monkey

I love when its racing season, when the ideas are plump, and low hanging.
blogging is never easy for me, writing is a chore.
and the off season, the cup tends to be bone dry, with no words, soul,
few post
and I fret,
I like the feeling of a good post.

I love the Monkey Hill time trial.
This year, I put in a bit more effort, and prep.
I flew out of the holders hands, a point .0025 early, I stood on the pedals and despite his heavy metal t-shirt he had no chance of holding me to zero.
I was up on top of the pedals, so early, really strong, crushing it to the 1st left turn,
I wove through the pots holes, hit
the corner into the cobbles a tad slow,
muscle the way across the rattling rocks,
and made the right on to the first paved road.
Soon, I was blind,
some of it was allergies,
some, it's a grand state!, was over my head in effort.
I just stayed in the drops,
A rare day on the bike, when nothing matters except going hard.
and I did,
till the final turn
to the Monkey Hill.
I finished 3rd, but I feel, I robbed myself going up the cobbles,
losing at least 10 seconds with a missed shift,
the last bits, up to the line,
was days, heavy slow never going to end
almost to a stop to cross the finish line.
Not 1st.
3rd.

and of course It's nothing but a warm good feeling, thinking back on all the Monkey Hill TT's.
I have done.
I'll be back next year, and all my years after that.
Seems like a good place to race cx, and its a great named race,  The Monkey Hill.
it'd be prize, to win, for sure.

Cheers to second attempts!
dlowe

3rd Monkey Hill TT

Senic Over-look

there is a good  view, one from high up on the podium, it was'nt mine,
still I got the lowest step 3rd, and that view was good also.

Looking off  into the park, the cobbles to the right, Lisa doing me a favor and taking the photo.

I love the Monkey Hill TT, for the last busy with work two weeks I toted around my trainer and got up at 5am and rode in my hotel room.
I pre-road the course in my head multiple times, looking for the places to improve, where gile,  or agility, eveness, would serve me best.

I felt so calm, my openers, a morning walk in DC, I's down there doing a lighting for a live video, and I stressed about it, also running it through my mind, all the options, and needs through my mind,
most nights falling to sleep.

 Today,
I thought my legs would have pep,
but, nope, last nights Monkey Hill high was worn off,
they were heavy,
and it did not take much of anything to get me breathing heavy on todays ride.

I stopped and took in the high waters, birds chirping.
the foggy mist,
the Atennna hiding in the fog

I am consumed with it,

flying down again Nature Boy,
and this time it's blossoms
slapping me,
Left leg unclipped on the gravel corner,
and the bike
grabbing it
spraying it away.

I had to skid to a stop and take a picture of the most beautiful spot.
the senic overlook

Cheers!
dlowe

cleaning up

the Monkey Hill time trial is coming up.
a Truth, a strange, un-even, short, blunt, race.
My training, is spot on, in the gym, doing my work, inspired and entertained, by
the strangeness that I can't help but notice.
hard work is a normal for me.
and from the Tuesday evening drives training ride to Thursdays Mtbike pho race at belmont.
I've gone steady,
better, smooth, educated, faster.
GV30 has finally made me a better mtbiker, I don't panic coming pedaling out of a corner, I come up to speed on my time,
and your wheel,
it just comes back to me,
on the open, climb or flat, the car it excel-orates, gulping up gas, care less,
by you I go, looking at the next wheel ahead of me,
10 or 15 seconds up.

yesterday a couple of young women stopped by, knocking on the door.
I had a couple of pans going on the stove,
turned 'em off.
They did a great job washing the Subaru, the pollen coated suburban beast.
I paid them double what they asked.

cause I'm rich, like that.
all the littlest things in the biggest way.
are easy.

Cheers! dlowe

8th

It's been a bit since I've raced a mountain bike race.  I worked hard at it for years, and did well, and I got to a point, I let it go.
I did crits, and stage races.
I fell in love with cross.

Mountain biking is the gateway drug into racing.
the most connective, to people, and place.
The road, it seems pro, fast, sprint finish.
and Cross, no doubt my love, we'll grow old together.

I love my bikes, and I want more.
More.
Track, dirt jumpers, a bike with shit, tents, stoves, rain gear stowed, that I ride across someplace.
It's been a while since I've raced a mountain bike race, and there is no better race than Fairhill.
I had a blast, so much that I did'nt hug anyone thank you goodbye well done.
believe me, I owe some hugs.
If you hug in mountain biking.
and despite being a Cyclocross Racer, I know that down in my roots, it all started at a mountain bike race.

Cheers!  dlowe

Drink Fresh

Haiku comes in many different forms.
It's not always count out the same.
Yes, when it's put in words.
but out in the world,
how do you select the moments,
and put them together, which images I remember, and which,
feelings, I nip and cut and define
the times.

....maybe that's it, understanding what brief things, big statements. in compact form.
the soul, color, simple definition.
thats what makes a good ride,
a great novel.
Stong worker.

Cheers! dlowe


Drink Fresh

Spring focus Harry
ride the train to opening
f' be young riding