Today I revisited an old, memory laden trail - the Capital Crescent Trail (http://www.cctrail.org/). My good friend, Tim, and I road the path from Bethesda, Maryland all the way to Washington, DC. In total we covered 26.69 miles in 3 hours and 4 minutes. There was a lot of stop and go in the city but I am really getting a better grip on aggressive city riding. I really have to thank TIm for the invaluable training, I love cycling and traffic was always a big fear of mine. 

     The reason I say the trail is memory laden is because it was the nameless trail from my early childhood memories riding with my father, uncles and cousins. It was the same trail that I revisited in college to do my first stop action project. And it was the trail that I drove to to practice dragon boat racing in the Potomac for my ex’s chinese school. An ex that set up the framework for the impenetrable, trust robbed walls around my heart. Quite a trail! However, coming back to the CCT as I am now really opened up a new opportunity for me. With a newer, more mature mindset I looked at the trail as a closure with a lot of my past demons. As I pumped my legs and (made incredible time ~7 miles in 28 minutes) zoomed past trees and fences and memories I felt like I was finally saying goodbye to these memories. The good and the bad. I felt I was riding ahead and away from the younger me. Riding away from my dad and my uncles and my brother…I felt like I was finally old enough to lead my own trail and to discover my own paths. I felt like I was riding away from every poisonous relationship I’ve ever had. Literally running over and killing every “other guy” (god why is there always another guy). The trip was emotional and physical and amazing. 

     I have to hand it to Tim. He rode a single speed bike, only had a front brake AND was wearing long commuter pants sans chamois. I don’t know how his legs or prostate made it the 26 miles but they did! Riding through DC this time was more intense because I got to lead a couple of times and we got separated a couple of times. There was some seriously legit bus weaving done today! Our first break was at Union Station for smoothies (we discovered milkshakes were a bad idea last time). I saw a photo opp with the station’s hallway’s architecture and pulled out my DSLR to capture the moment. At first I took a test shot to gauge the exposure and then set up Tim centered and posed. As I looked through the pictures tonight I realized I liked the test shot so much more. Touching on the photographic conversation Tim and I had over beers and burgers after the ride, I thought about what makes a picture and what makes a photograph. I thought about photo journalism, I thought about composition, I thought about the rules and how to break the rules. I thought about fine art and I thought about a maturing photographer and I realized, yes, I definitely like this test shot more. Not to be that guy that analyzes his own picture, BUT. I saw the uncentered composition so much more intriguing. Tim is not the center of the picture, and one could argue, wasn’t even the subject. The mix of people at the end of the hallway, the homeless man passing Tim, Tim’s bike and Tim’s outwardly gaze cause the viewer to arc across the picture from the back to the left foreground. Even the overexposure fills the frame with a pure light that contrasts against the gritty, contrasty textures of the hallway’s ceiling and floor stirring yet more intrigue. The only thing centered and uniform about the hallway is the hallway itself and it encapsulates a variety of off-centered, busy subjects, as a hallway should! Both physically and artistically the hallways presents itself as a vehicle of transport for the viewer. Be it to the other end of the hallway to where we locked our bikes, or be it through the silent chaos of frozen action that is this picture. I may be looking too deep into it, but I think Tim, his teacher and my favorite professor would be proud.

     I, of course, had to take a picture of my personal setup. A photographer’s glory is from behind the camera but sometimes I like to let the viewers see a little bit of me. What I’m currently working with is my blue/silver 2012 Trek 2.1 Compact aptly named Tuna.

     After Union Station we decided to ride down to the historic Eastern Market area (hence the strange rhombus shaped detour we took on the bottom right). We ended up getting lost in a sketchy neighborhood, replanning and then ending up at a closed bar. So we gunned it back to the city center and decided to head back to Bethesda for food. It was getting overcast and we were afraid of rain. On the way back I couldn’t help but stop ever so often for instagram opps (@chrissogram). One particular spot had me turning around and calling for Tim to follow me. On the left of the trail was a uniform fence and on the right was a chaotic mess of dying trees and roots. Separating the two was a smooth endless pathway - I HAD to put Tim in the middle of it! What resulted was one of my favorite pictures of the day. A gentleman and his trusted iron steed standing unabashedly between industry and nature. Emblazoned on his chest, a stunning call to all those around him, “For the Greater Good”! Call me crazy, but when moments shout themselves out to me I cannot but help to shout back.

     It was another fantastically spent day with an equally fantastic friend. I am really biking more and more and I have to say that I am loving it (at the cost of my BJJ gym time). My posts have been becoming much more happier and, I have to say I am becoming much more happier. Out of a long drought I have suddenly been refilled with hope and, dare I say it, excitement. Excitement for what there is to come. Excitement for how uncertainly beautiful the future is. 

You get what you make of it.

Trek On,

Chris

Starbucks

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     Earlier this week I went back to my alma mater to meet with a potential job/intern connection (oh the things that incite excited speeding now a days). I decided to make the most out of the 4 hours I bought at the parking deck and met up with my good friends Jerry and Sonja for coffee and catching up.

As I sat and waited for them to arrive, I had a lot of time to look around and think. Things had changed so much since I graduated. This was the same 24-hour Starbucks I used to spend all-nighters cramming for bio exams and, eventually, editing photography projects. This was the Starbucks that I used to buy for my ex when we would study late into the night, this was the Starbucks I discovered the Peace Corps in and this was the Starbucks where I fell in love. I looked around and saw students idly chattering with coffees in their hands, macs galore littered the walls with their serpentine plugs. I thought to myself,

“Damn, if only they knew how much work they could get done on a laptop with decent internet and 8 hours of dedication, do they know how many jobs and internships they could be applying to right now? How many companies and non-profits they could be researching?”

My own mind sickened me. I tried to focus back on my coffee. My Americano, rather.I thought to myself how sad it was that I regretted buying it. I could have gotten cheaper coffee at McDonald’s or Dunkin’, hell, I could have made better coffee from home and brought it in my tumbler. Again, my mind sickened me. Through the echoes and hum drums of the coffee shop I realized how close I was to collapsing in on myself. My dress shoes, dress shirt and tie didn’t make a damn difference. The reflection in the dirty window was of a hungry animal stuck in a room full of children. Rejection and routine had begun to chip away at my self-esteem, my being. Hell, the last time I sat in this chair I basically told the girl I loved her ex still loved her and to go for it! I don’t think a homeless celibate monk could stay jobless and loveless as well as me.

Alas, Jerry and Sonja arrived before I could really dig myself in. The world needs people as bright and happy as these two, I mean it. If there was a success story to be heard it would likely be of these two’s relationship. Neuroscientist meets Photographer, could fate have chosen a more interesting intersection of intriguing arts? We talked about school and about life. We talked about Jerry’s senior art project and Sonja’s second attempt at the beast that is Genetics. Oh how they breathed life back into my day. Hum drums sound completely different when it comes from good friends.

After Sonja left for class, Jerry and I caught up on man-talk. We talked about my next plans and my next moves. We talked about my future jeep. We talked about his future photography projects. And what would boys be without their toys? I let him try out the Mark II and showed him how to use a white balance lens cap, in case he wanted to borrow her, and I took the quaint hipster pictures you see above. 

Seeing my gent and lady was very very much needed. As we bid farewell over promises to go to the shooting range soon, I took one last look at the Starbucks and realized that,

“That was the Starbucks where I got my hope back.”

Trek On,

Chris