Rowed, rode, road

Just watched Antonio Gaudi, God's Architect a BBC documentary. This Spanish architect, born in 1852, and died in 1926, created utterly unique and remarkable structures. Like much of Frank Lloyd Wright's work, you can hardly believe that his work is around 100 years old. Also like Wright, Gaudi was eccentric. His oddness was his celibacy, and extreme Catholicism. Yet his work is curvy and sensuous, even sexual. I suppose Freud would have something to say to this. Ah Freud, the amateur critic's answer to many riddles. Sorry about that. But there are times when sublimation offers a reasonable explanation. If not a soaring rigid tower, why not flowing, curvaceous lines, and mushroom-headed rooftop vents?

 

Pedaling is rowing. Repetitive. Back and forth. Up and down. 

Roads are rivers. Linear. Meandering. Rippling.

Today my bicycle and I pushed and floated East, then South, to Emerson. 

We rode around the town.

We were pushed Northward by the South wind, then turned West to return home.

55 kilometres; 30.27 km/hr average speed. Wind 20 ks SSW.

The longest ride of the year. 

Not long yet, but just fine for April.