Prancing With Vigor

As you might have guessed simply by the length of yesterday’s post alone, Saturday was a busy day, frenetic some might say.  It was also tiring, even though we only rode 16 miles.  It must have been the ballgame that wore us out.  Our plan for Sunday was to get up early and ride Trailnet’s Giro Della Montagna bicycle ride, but we slept in instead.  In our defense, it was perfect sleeping weather on Saturday night.  The wind was calm and the low was about 50 °F.  The windows were open and with the weather that we have been enjoying this holiday weekend no one was running their air conditioners.  So Sunday morning was cool, calm and quiet, as I said perfect sleeping weather, all the way up to nine o’clock.  At the stroke of nine several nearby lawn mowers were fired up and someone was running some sort of high pitched squealing machine, it was a regular cacophony out there. 

We putzed around the rest of the morning, drank coffee, fooled around on the computer, listened to NPR and other what not.  Anne and I called our respective parents.  Anne spoke with her mother and her sister, Jane.  They were full of news about the big wind storm that the Cabin was experiencing, lost boats and beach chairs.  I spoke with my dad.  They were planning on driving down the coast highway to Nepenthe for lunch, but it was foggy out and he was uncertain about whether they would be able to see any on the beautiful vistas that that drive is famous for.  Around one o’clock Anne and I finally launched on our bikes.  Dave was just settling in to watch the Cardinals game.

We rode through the Park, which was crowded.  It was a beautiful day, so go figure.  We followed the same path to the Hill that we had on Saturday.  The Hill is the Italian neighborhood in town and at one time it was rumored that when a young couple wanted to buy a house in that neighborhood they would visit the parish priest and he would broker the sale.  There is another Southside Catholic tradition that is related to home sales, but it is not limited to just the Hill neighborhood.  The legend goes that if you bury a statue of Saint Joseph, upside down, in the yard, then the property will sell faster.

The houses on the Hill are primarily small, one-story, one-thousand square feet bungalows.  Working class homes built in the early part of the twentieth century.  Each home has one aspect of pride about it though and that is the lawn.  The sin of pride that is bestowed upon these green grasses was merciless lampooned by the former Post-Dispatch columnist, Elaine Viets.  According to her, if a leaf from a neighbor’s tree were to fall upon another neighbor’s lawn, then a phone call of complaint would soon be forthcoming.

We arrived on the Hill in time to catch the beginning of the men’s masters race (the old guys).  After two laps and two wrecks the officials stopped the race in order to clean up the carnage.  Anne and I decided to relocate during this lull.  We passed Shaw Coffee which was open on a Sunday.  On the Hill there are more great eating and drinking establishments per capita then almost anywhere else in the city, but they are never open on Sunday.  I don’t know if it is because of the down economy or after running the Giro Della Montagna now for twenty-five years some establishments are waking up to a great business opportunity or both, but a few of the Hill’s businesses have begun to open on the Sunday of the Giro and Shaw Coffee was one of them.  Barbara, my favorite office assistant, has always recommended Shaw Coffee as having the best coffee in town.  Even though we have frequently passed it and not always on a Sunday, we had never been in there.  We pranced with vigor (Kaldi’s motto) through the front door in our new Kaldi’s jerseys.  We had prepared our story before we went in; we were doing a competitive assessment.  No denying it, it was good coffee, but the best in town?  I don’t know about that.

Afterwards, we met up with Don and DJ again and watched the races.  Rob, Edie, Sandi, Sammy and Sam were all also in attendance.  On our way out, we stopped by Gelato Di Riso; Yum.  The racers had to fight a headwind all their way uphill and only had a tailwind on the way back downhill.  We had a tailwind all the way back home.  We got 15 miles.  Arriving back home, Dave informed us that the Cards had won, 4-2, so I picked the wrong game.

Biking, Baseball, Repeat

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Oh, what did Della wear boy,
What did Della wear?

She wore a bran’ new jersey,

That’s what she did wear.

This is what Anne was singing to me as we cruised into Park on Saturday morning, all the while, I was biking next to her, trying to get her and her bran’ new jersey all in the same frame.  Saturday, surely had the best example of Labor Day weather that Saint Louis has ever shown us in our thirty years of residence here.  So it should have been no surprise when we hit the Park that it was already packed.  Nobody wanted to be inside on this day.

By the time that we reached the far end of the Park, we had had enough and decided to bail from it.  Using our magic devil machines we charted a new course to Saturday’s venue of the Gateway Cup bicycle races, the Tour des Hills, also known as Francis Park; our mission, to cheer on our friend Kubie.  On the way there, we passed through the Hill neighborhood.  The Hill is the Italian neighborhood in Saint Louis.  It is the place to go for great Italian food.  On Sunday, it will also be the place to go for bicycling riding and racing, but that is tomorrow’s story.  On Saturday, The Hill was quiet, as before the storm.

As we were climbing the hill that gives The Hill its name Anne remembered a special block in this neighborhood.  It is the block length of Elizabeth that lies between Sublette and Macklind, also known as Hall of Fame Place.  This small block with its even smaller houses produces three baseball hall of fame recipients, Yogi Berra, Joe Garagiola, and Jack Buck.  There are plaques in the sidewalk for all of this block’s sports heroes.  What’s even more amazing is the depth of talent that this block produced.  In addition to the “big three” are the following other athletes, Ben Pucci, 1948 AAFC Champion with the Cleveland Browns and  Mickey Garagiola, Wrestling at the Chase, trust me on this one, this was a big deal in Saint Louis.  We found five plaques, but there are more.

It might have been the weather, or maybe it was Anne, but while we were exploring the Hall of Fame Place, we got to speak with three long time residents of this mighty lane.  The first guy, we never introduced ourselves, this is Saint Louis, and you don’t introduce yourself until you know more about each other.  Anyway, the first guy lives in Joe Garagiola former home.  He broke the bad news.  Joe’s brother, Mickey died last Saturday and both Joe and Yogi have just recently suffered falling injuries.  After all of his bad news we got to talking.

He and the other two gentlemen seem to enjoy the tourist or at least us two.  The first guy did complain about tour buses though, they block traffic.  The second guy came up and spoke with us as I was taking the street sign picture for this post.  He thought that I was photographing the corner storefront which is now “Compleat Financial”.  He owns the adjacent home and his uncle once owned the corner storefront and made “the best hot salami in Saint Louis there”.  We talked for a while and before we parted Anne asked him where the best salami might be found now-a-days?  He was unequivocal in his recommendation, Giola’s Deli at the corner of Macklind and Daggett.

Our third wise man lived in the house of Buck, as in Jack Buck.  He generously polished the Jack Buck plaque for us.  All of this baseball stuff is fine enough, but are there any soccer fans out there?  Am I pandering now?  If you are a US soccer fan, then your Meeca is this same said Hill neighborhood.  Five Hill residents formed the heart of the 1950 U.S. World Cup soccer team that upset top-ranked England 1-0.

OK then, it is getting late tonight and I am not even yet to 11 AM in our day.  It is time to kick the prose up a gear or two and maybe let the pictures fill in a bit too.  We rode to Saint Francis Park and watch Kubie race.  She wasn’t going to win, but she and two of her competitors were unjustly deprived of finishing.  After her race we biked back home.  We got 16 miles.

Anne, Dave, Kennard and I went to the Cardinals game on Saturday afternoon.  The Cards were playing Cincinnati, our division leaders.  We sat in the bleachers again, not too far from where we sat with Rey last October.  Even though the weather was cool today, the bleacher seats were warm and very bright.  I don’t know how any fan can sit through a game there in Saint Louis’ normal ninety degree summer weather.  The Cardinals lost to the Reds, 6-1.  I don’t think that the playoffs will be in the cards for Saint Louis this year.

Lafayette We Are Here

On Tuesday morning I got up at Oh-dark-thirty to go biking in the Park.  It was still dark out, but I have bike lights, actually I have a bike light system ($$$).  My early morning drill is pretty simple and has been well rehearsed, get up (always the hardest part), go down stairs, get dressed and then just roll the bike out our basement’s walkout door.  On Tuesday, when I flipped on the outside light two beady little eyes were illuminated, they belong to an opossum.  As I stood there in the open basement doorway, I expected it to bolt, but it just continued doing what it had been doing.  I thought about running back upstairs and grabbing my real camera, but since the outside light seemed to be lighting the scene sufficiently, I took the expedient approach and just pulled the iPhone out of my pocket and took the picture.  I should have gone back upstairs, because the picture was no good (crummy iPhone camera) and it eventually took my best monster roar for the opossum to get the idea and run off.  I saw something nasty in the woodshed.  I eventually launched and got 15 miles.  Then the rains came on Wednesday and Thursday, but we really needed some rain.  Friday dawned cool and clear.  The forecast for this holiday weekend c’est magnifique, with highs in the 70’s and lows in the 50’s and no rain in the forecast.  This will be a rare Saint Louis weekend, weather wise.

Anne and I met Don and DJ at Square One Brewery, on Park, just off of Lafayette Square, on Friday evening.  Lafayette Square is a city park that comprises one city block.  The four streets that bound the square are lined with mid-ninetieth century row houses or in some cases their modern facsimiles.  It is a neighborhood steeped in tradition.  A more recent tradition that has taken the neighborhood by storm is the Tour de Lafayette, the first stage in this weekend’s four stage Gateway Cup series of bicycling races.  With the lapse this year of the Tour of Missouri, the Gateway Cup retakes its mantle as the premier bicycle race in Missouri.  We caught the end of the men’s master’s race before dinner.  Master’s is a nice way of saying old guys.   We saw and spoke with Jim and Diana in between laps of this race. 

I should probably explain to everyone that all of the Gateway Cup’s races are criterions or more simply crits.  The Lafayette crit is just less than a mile around the block.  Racers ride for a fixed period of time, anywhere from half an hour to an hour and then countdown five last laps to go.  Even the masters exceed the posted speed limit and the pros are at least 10 MPH faster.  Look both ways before you cross these streets at night.

After dinner we caught most of the men’s CAT 3 race.  We stopped by Tom and Audrey’s house; they were having their usual lawn party.  We then walked around the block, stopping to photograph the passing riders every other minute (i.e. 30 MPH).  We bumped into Chris and Sandi who should be the ones actually writing this post, because they really follow the bicycling race scene and would really know what they are writing about, but alas dear reader you are stuck with me.  We caught part of the elite women’s race (CAT 1, 2 and Pro) before we left.  I must say that I like fast women on bicycles.