Ocean In Slow Motion

Theologians
I'm The Man Who Loves You
Hummingbird
E1
Via Chicago
Spiders Kidsmoke
E2
Late Greats
Heavy Metal Drummer
Walken
Someone else's song
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More Importantly

It has been one year since I moved back to London. In that time I have lived in two apartments, the latter a much better space for me than the former.

I have had two girlfriends, the former a nice architect who didn't like me very much, the current a sexy journalist who, for reasons I will not delve in to lest I puncture the wonderful mystery of their origin, seems to like me very much.

I took two big bike vacations, the first to the United States and across the Pacific Northwest from Seattle to Kalispell. The second a trip around Switzerland.

I went to and watched in person the Ronde Van Vlaanderen, parts of the Vuelta A Espana, a Friday night at the Amsterdam Sechsdaagse and the Omloop-KBK weekend in Ghent.

I went mountain biking on the Czech-German border and spent a week in February down around Alicante in a small, moorish house riding the sunny hills behind Benidorm.

I went to the Netherlands twice.

I worked one job as a reporter on the fuel oil market, and am now a reporter on the crude oil market. I'm not really sure how I got either of those jobs, and remain unconvinced that I either like them or even wanted them. From what I can recall, I went to grad school in order to get a credential that would provide me a more, and not less, interesting life.

But of course the caveat is that the bills are paid and I live in London. However I will never be satisfied, I know, because adventure worth writing about is out there in the streets, not perched at a desk in thrall to computer monitors.

Every day that I could I rode my bike to work, whether under the Thames or over it.

It has been a year. Likely I will soon move again, or lose my job.

You Can Rely On Me, Honey

Nils Cline

Impossible Germany
Deeper down
Handshake Drugs
Pot Kettle Black
I'll Fight
Box of letters
Sonny feeling
Jesus Etc

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Wilco Live In London

Lots of guitars. Big pedal boards. One keyboardist vamps with a small pillow.
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It All Ends

Seasons move in and out and draw some reflection out of me. The autumn changes are especially strong.
Ashes of american dreams
Bull black nova
Shot in the arm
Side with the seeds
Trying to break your heart
One wing
At least that's what you said

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Bos Dachas

Quiet, tree-lined. Lots of work went in to some of these.
Most, in fact.
Closed for overnights in the offseason, no working on them in the summer. No bikes in some parts. Electricity and utilities not allowed. No obvious signs of vegetable or fruit gardens.
Yard gnomes. Koi ponds. Pre-cast stepping stones and tree-lined quietude. And a big central field for kids to play in.
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What The Hell Is A Derny All About?

Fat guys with splayed knees all dressed in black.
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Sprint Cup Track Stand

Dean Tracey jumps, winds up last.
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Madison Feed

The inner paddock is a Dutch VIP cliche. Pink sweaters, chemically curled hair, hair gel, chihuahua tan. That's the men.
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More 6-Day

Then, after the Madison miss-and-out, two Argentinian competitors got on a piano and sang a German beerhall song.
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Amsterdam 6-Day, Friday Night

The blurry Theo Bos after taking the two-man, three-lap sprint.
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Pumpkin Soup, Gent aan de Schinkel

Oh man this is gooooooooood!
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Donut Bike

Didn't even make it home.
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Down At The New Amsterdam

A tandem at Star Bikes. Better to rent here, just behind Centraal Station.
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Condor City Bike

Very clean.
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Look Back At London

The cycle show last weekend was chock full of whatever flavor you like. This is a Bashley, part of a line of very fine British bikes meant for tooling around Oxbridge.
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Front Lawn London

Sun up today in a crisp, Autumn morning.
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