Crackle along the farm machinery double track, all to myself this time of the year—the gusts roiling off of the Mediterranean as if desperate for sure footing on land, even this island, relatively small in the expanse but made of the dense stable rock of its high mountains.
In these places the implication of ascent, lift limitward. The shard that cracks the cryptography of Ancient Greece, that we leap, maybe in a protestful denial that we’re fragile, maybe in a realization of an authentic transcendence.
For the tour itself: fenders, custom rear rack, two small Ortlieb panniers, a Revelate front sling with tent and bedroll.
Last days of honeymoon, complete the circuit to Munich, human scales and harmonies, peopled paths, a gentle and loved park with sculpted streams running through it where we watch a multi generational cadre of surfers […]
We meet up with Lael and Nick by the leakproof plan of an email a few days prior, indicating that we should meet under the gothic tower on the Charles bridge at 5pm.
Margaret coins the label agribiking for the style, where we web the Czech countryside on dirt or gravel or fragmenting asphalt roads abandoned by all but farmers imprinting tractor treads in the mud, perhaps their […]
Sometimes companionably close to the water’s movement, sometimes straying into hills, a plainly and can’t go wrong marked route but easy enough to improv for exploration. We ride in the balming clarity and heat alongside vineyards, through one stone church three dozen building villages, sometimes detouring through bigger towns for a beer or ice cream.
We lose count of cyclotourists making the Budapest to Prague journey, chubby rear panniers with a bar bag, sometimes mixing in with day riders on three speeds. All of us cycling without a trace of need or misery, pedesis in the carrying landscape.
Organic motion against orderly, settled and therefore settling historically conscious handsomeness. Primary color light rail to the three glass wall stop shoving aside tiny cars. Grass triangle parks, picnic tables pulled up prams, municipal workers […]
Spoking tiled lane old part of the city, intersecting trolley rails, flickering leaves fronting domed building spire backdrop. Its own hilltop castle, we’ll tomorrow visit via steep streets curling ’round and affording better and better […]