PIctures of 07 MS Tour. Part 3

It's time for the MS Tour.

It's here, the MS tour is this weekend. I rode 60 miles last Saturday, 50 miles last Sunday, got a new rear wheel put on the bike and Jonathan gave it one last look and a few final adjustment s.

Wednesday night I took a final 5 mile shake down ride. All systems are go . If I hold together and the bike holds together we'll be fine. There's nothing left to do but to "DO IT ".

It's Thursday night, I feel like a kid going fishing this weekend. Excited!

I also feel like a athlete, a actor , a dancer , a circus performer , that's trained, practiced,
rehearsed, or studied all year and everything relies on my performance this weekend.

The real bottom line is I've already won. Getting prepared for this event puts me in excellent
physical and mental health, so if I don't get to the starting line I've won, I've gained ,
I've prospered in several personal aspects of my being.

I've packed my camera and notebook to record anything of interest and if I'm lucky
I'll find some excitement.

I've been promised that the hills were lowered this year.

Next entry will be the results show. . . .

later

gary

A long, long, long, time ago when I was young, my friends and I would ride our bikes on the
cement edge along parts of Bayou St John, sometimes you stayed up , sometimes you fell in the grass and sometimes you fell in the Bayou. Courage is when you do it at 56. See video.
later
gary

Long hard weekend, did 60 miles Saturday and 50 miles Sunday,

does my ass hurt, you better believe it, I even earned a saddle sore.

The video is of a trip down the Bayou St John bridge at the Lakefront.

Less than a month to go , put the Trek in the shop for a pre tour inspection ,

new tires, tubes, pedal straps, adjustment s and a new seat.. .

Starting to get apprehensive, must be the fear of failure.

later

gary

Still in the race

Although I've been side tracked lately, the MS Tour ride is still on and I'm still signed up and getting ready. I've managed to get in 50 miles on Saturdays and 25 on Sundays. N0thing I can do here will get me ready for the hills, (mountains) except an occasional overpass.
The Tour is 6 weeks away and my efforts are pointed to peak at the right time, not too soon and not too late. I'll hold the Saturday 50 and add to the 25 Sunday, this don't' include the 30 on weeknights.. Ran into George on the River Levee, he's on a faster bike, his goal is to finish faster this year, I think he has the bike and the persistence to accomplish his goal, as for me, someone has to come up the rear and make sure everybody gets in safely, I just wish they'd
leave me some grapes at the rest stops. Here are some pictures of some beautiful streets in the quarter ( click on them to enlarge). I love the stoops and small porches. I've sat on a few of these in my younger days, dated a girl or 2 that lived in the quarter. The Mississippi at night , what a sight. Yes, my other bike is a huffy, when the TREK is in the shop I ride the Huffy, it's slow but comfortable.

Today I thought about risk and returns. So I ride on the street a lot, I ride on the West Napoleon Speedway, I've taken the ride of death on Williams Blvd, I've cruised on Simon Bolivar,Washington,Freret, Esplanade, Rampart, etc , etc, etc, without a bullet proof vest.
Traveled all over the French Quarter, the Warehouse District, the Irish Channel,
St Roch, even Tchoupitoulas St. from one end to the other, why, why why, . . .
Without risk there is no life, to live is to escape death, what an adrenalin rush , a death defying
act every weekend. If you want to see whats out there you must take the risk, go see.
You don't get great pictures sitting on your sofa. I don't take risk for the sake of taking risk, and the risk are calculated and controlled, timing is everything. When they walk past my casket,
(hopefully my MP3 player will be playing), know that I lived, not just existed, got scared,
got courageous, got mad, got yelled at and yelled, I've chased and I've ran, emotional life,, gives you reason to continue on in spite of whats hurled at you. So if the bus runs me over, don't
feel bad, I knew the risk, and probably took it head on cussing the whole time, may even have pictures of it happening . No, I'm not Captain Ahab and the bus is not Moby Dick, it's more like
I'm Hemingway and the bus is a bull in Pamplona.

MS Tour , first weekend of October, for more info go to , (mslouisiana.org.)

Ever go to Canal St.. and look up? click on each to enlarge.

Spring has Sprung.

Spring, morning is still,

air is fresh,cool, sunny is today's promise. The journey is the center of all , the bike the vehicle, places are fixtures. I feel life around me, not just today's but the past and the future. I absorb the fixtures, inhale them , process them , squeeze every ounce of life out of them, make them part of my inner self, my soul, my mind, I make them what I"m living for at that precise moment. Focus, focus, meld with the lives around me.

The blacktop street is smooth, worn ,

tired from carrying the weight of

civilization , it's has life , I too travel it, this chalkboard of the city, I leave my life's weight and gather those left before me.

The French Quarter has life abundant, old and new, a young lady on a bike passes me , I assess her, checkered sundress, red dyed hair, tattoo of a black rose on her right calf, green tennis shoes, a metal loop in her lower lip and long strapped black bag flopping off her shoulder.

She rides with direction and intent,

where could she be going and why.
Where has she been and why?

I take a moment to fabricate her life,

I fit her into a box of my liking, her life fills my needs for her to exist,

onward to the next fixture. I visit the

once home of Tennessee Williams,

his life still gives off an energy there,

and if you listen, you'll hear Marlon Brando yelling "Stella" and Liz Taylor calling Burl Ives "Big Daddy". Just off the corner of

Royal and Ursuline my eye is struck by a man perched against a rough, beige colored stucco wall, his hands are behind his back and his left foot against the wall, his cocoa tinted complexion is handsomely favored by his deep blue dyed Nehru shirt,his baggy linen trousers once white now spottily stained, he gazes upward yet his eyes are shielded by his straw panama hat, so what story is behind that bushy mustache. Is he a leftover from last night, does he work nearby, is he visiting, hanging out,

on the prowl, laying low, people watching, waiting for someone,

how will I ever know his reason for being ? Perhaps he's spent his entire life on the low wild side, picking up thrills and dollar bills when and where they presented themselves. He peeks at me with one eye as I ride past, just a glimpse to access my life in a quick thought. He and I are both bookends, markers, drawers in a chest, legs on a chair, unnoticed yet integral to a panoramic picture of life in this city.

A tourist couple crosses the intersection as I wait. It was "Beryl I ate too much corn and beef " and her husband "Ralph Ive never been off the farm ", they were obvious in tourist shorts, New Orleans T- shirts,

designer flip flops, straw hats, cameras, and a naivety that made me envious.

Ralph's eyes followed me as I passed through, for 2 seconds he thought how great it must be to be me.

For those 2 seconds he was right.

later,

gary

A Beautiful Day

What a beautiful Day....
Sunshine, perfect temperature, slight breeze.
Went back in time, the side streets were quiet,
frying bacon filled the air, the pigeons were having their Sunday morning meetings on the corners, and A Prairie Home Companion was on the radio. What a morning, what could bless a soul better. I'm working on descriptions of some of the Quarter Characters. Coming Soon.
Enjoy the Pics..Click on them to enlarge...
later
gary