First Friday Writing for Randos: Write it on your heart.

{First Friday Writings for Randos - A monthly post that features pieces from other writers that touch some facet of the Randonneuring experience, even if that was not the author's intent. It's stuff that's best read out loud - slowly.} This month it's a poem from 

Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Collected Poems and Translations

Write it on your heart
that every day is the best day in the year.
He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day
who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.

December 2014. R1 Redux: Leave the lights on.

Can a ride report be a music video?

The back story: 

My streak of 200k or longer rides died in November. That was the first month to go by without my riding one since I rode my very first 200k in April 2010. Fifty-five months of consistency ended quietly, without drama, succumbing to inertia and a lingering lack of motivation. 

December was passing too, easily slipping past in the flow of year end parties, arrangements, wrapping up at work. 100K rides kept me in the loop, but the 200K is the benchmark of this sport and it was getting farther away while the distance was growing more daunting.

New Jersey holiday ride: On the last day of fall

Come 
ride with me
on the last day of fall 
under a cold grey sky 
when the days have withered
in the presence of growing  night.

First Friday Writing for Randos: Seeing what is capable

{First Friday Writings for Randos - A monthly post that features pieces from other writers that touch some facet of the Randonneuring experience, even if that was not the author's intent. It's stuff that's best read out loud - slowly.} This month it's a ride report from Bill R., a Randonneur and Iron Man from New England who rides brevets in a velomobile:

"It is a shame for a man to grow old without seeing the beauty and strength of which his body is capable. " Socrates

New York City 200K - The touch of light.

New York City has a gritty veneer. Its wrinkled hardened exterior wraps its core, its people, in tarnished armor. A thick skin's worth of impenetrable distance that keeps the oppressive crush of humanity at bay. It muffles the sirens and dims the brights lights. I grew up in New York City but left it a long time ago. I have returned for a bike ride.

Crossing the George Washington Bridge to enter the city, the sun lies just below the horizon. Even now there are walkers, riders and, of course, cars on the bridge. It is just after 6 A.M. on a Sunday morning but, the city that never sleeps - never sleeps.

Hills, heat and humidty - Leesburg to Lexington

I did not ride the DC Randonneurs' Appalachian Adventure 1000K. The AA1000K linked three tough permanents to create a tour of the Shenandoah mountains of western Virginia - a randonneur's tour, complete with scenic views and all the climbs it takes to view them.

I was supposed to ride it, but work got in the way. Instead, at the suggestion of a friend, I rode the first and last legs of the course as permanents. My abbreviated course was supposed to cover over 650 kilometers in two days. The first leg was Leesburg to Lexington in 346 Kilometers . . . 

First Friday Writing for Randos - There is a season and a time.

{First Friday Writings for Randos - A monthly post that features pieces from other writers that touch some facet of the Randonneuring experience, even if that was not the author's intent. It's stuff that's best read out loud - slowly.} This month it's

Ecclesiastes 3

For everything 
there is a season, 
and a time 
for every activity
under heaven: