Morning ride...

Well, this morning I drove over to Conshohocken with my bike and rode into work. It was dark when I left, but that's not too big an issue as the trail is flat and paved and could be ridden in the dark without an issue. But I had my good light on.

By the time I got to where the paved trail ended, it was that hazy sort of light. I cross the old rail bed and follow River road into what was once Shawmont but is now, as Tom Waits would say "a wide spot in the road."

I go past the dead end, cross the tracks at the old Shawmont Station and then there is a great little twisting section of cobblestones that drops you down to near the river. It's short, but it's like a cross between San Fransisco's Lombard Street and the Paris-Roubaix...ok, maybe that's a stretch, but when you're riding, you get to talk to yourself and to imagine all sorts of things.

* This is the Paris-Roubaix, not Shawmont.

Down by the river, the trail is dirt again, but there are a couple of grand old Depression era buildings whose shells cause my imagination of fly in all directions..."What was this? When was this?" These are two massive old stone structures. Everything that is not stone has fallen by the wayside, but the buildings themselves endure and nothing about them suggests that, if left alone, they shan't continue to stand.


There is a little rise in the trail at the Flatrock Dam. Here the Manayunk canal begins and peels off from the edge of the Schuylkill River. I stay low along the river in Manayunk, avoiding the streets as much as possible, following along the canal.

Arriving at the top of Fairmount Park I start to see more runners and other folks. It is now light out and the sculls and launches are lined up at the top of the river, waiting their turn to pull down towards Boathouse Row. As the path continues to follow the river, there are no real hills, there is even a modest pitch down as we head downstream towards the city.

At 6:50 in the morning, there are folks doing their Rocky impressions on the steps of the Art Museum. Seriously.

The Philadelphia Waterworks in the shadow of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

I pass the front of the museum as I round Eakins Oval, then head down the Parkway towards Love Park and City Hall. Someone is leading a group of about eight people doing yoga at Logan Circle in front of the Franklin Institute. Then finally up 15th Street and into the coffee shop. I'm a little later than normal, but not by much. Chris brews some of the best coffee in the city, in addition to being an amazing freelance photographer. And I am definitely feeling good and feeling awake, so perhaps I don't need the coffee, but it sure is yummy.

It's great to be able to get a ride in first thing in the morning. It is great to be able to take in all that the morning offers, the great and historic scenery along the way, the mysterious and the mundane. But there are enough other people out, people who appear to do this on a regular basis, that I can't give myself too much credit for doing it this once. I also think about all the folks I work with who ride to work on a very regular basis. They don't do crazy mountain bike races, but they are out there, riding every day, riding all year long, just because. Now I know why. Respect.