Life On Two Wheels

Along the river and toward the mountains a morning shadow shimmers across the road. The rays of the first light jet through the trees and across a figure gliding upon the road. His breath trails in short spurts, petrified as it hits the icy air. All is quiet except the slight sound of the athlete as he summons himself for yet another days work. Soon the rest of the world will bustle with life as well and the brief simplicity of cyclist and nature will disappear into the everyday struggle of life in full motion; the errands and intervals, the appointments and intersections, and the deadlines and finish lines OutPaceTheRace

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Café España

Nord Bend
Saturday, November 03, 2007

There’s not much of a difference between sitting in a café in America and sitting in one in Spain. Aside from the fact that the two are separated by this body of water known as the Atlantic Ocean; that which is sought is the same and accomplished through like means. If you amble your way into Starbucks, order a coffee, sit down for a chat, check the internet, read the newspaper or carry on in your own anonymity… you’ve quintessentially been to a Spanish Café… Now you have no need to go, ‘cause that was the only reason you were gonna go anyway, right? Bueno.

Of course there are minor differences that could potentially cause cataclysmic problems… such as spending 4 dollars on a cup of coffee the size of your nose, walking 200 feet, speaking Spanish, having allergies to things over 500 years old… Some people even find the calamity produced by scooters quite charming and feel quite compelled to throw down 1000 bucks to go see it. Others prefer the sophistication of a café filled with smoke & are in agreement on the relatively trivial price of a ticket when compared with the profound affect of café España smoke immersion. I'm not saying it's bad... it's just the same, most natives refer to it as Nord America.