The Northern Voyage: The Rebel Runners of the Philly International Championship

Brett, Seth, and Colleen came bustling by Manayunk around 11pm followed quickly by Josh and Mike. Behind the latter came Josh's parents. The gear flowed out of the vehicles; helmets, water bottles, panniers, tools, and two bikes. One tire out of the four had a bubble sticking out from the otherwise uniform flat rubber. The bikes had jumped from the vehicle during the ride. Somewhere along the hour drive to Manayunk from Court House, the loosely assembled bike rack had abandoned ship like mutinous sailors; taking to the violence of the asphalt as opposed to the safety of the vessel. Looking over the wreckage at Kevin's house, there didn't actually appear to be any. Word was that the bikes took their tumble on Court House-Dennisville road at a relatively slow speed and the damage was minimal. The only casualty was the bike tire.

After Mr. and Mrs. Johnson arrived, we had a thorough rundown of safety tips checked off before they left their son.

"I'll take care of the boy" I sternly said to his parents. "

"Just keep your helmets on and don't get mad at each other. We know you can take care of yourselves", replied Mrs. Johnson.

The parents got in their cars and exited from the home as the beer and whiskey made their arrival. The last of the cigarettes were puffed, the final drops of alcohol drunken, and the eyes eventually gave in to a long night of sleep. Silently collapsing randomly in someone's bed for the night, I dozed off.

Sunlight streamed through the blinds of the small room on the second floor. Looking at the clock... 11 AM. No early departure here.

"Josh!" I yelled. "REI opened an hour ago. Go wake up Kev and get your new tire or get it fixed!"

No response.

Play music at loud volume.

He stirs.

"Alright, alright. Hold your horses. I'm a tired boy"

"How am I going to wake up you and Kevin? Nah Josh, you gotta wake up Kevin", I complained.

"Just hold some bacon underneath his nose", came a voice from the doorway. Colleen stood in the doorway in all her early morning glory; strands of hair intertwined with saliva sticking around her mouth, fresh cowlick in the back. "That'll wake him up".

"It's not that easy" replied Josh.

Collen laid on the bed between Josh and I as I drifted back into sleep and Josh got up to venture to REI.

Five hours, a tire, a sandwich, a few last cigarettes, some goodbyes and a year later, we left Kevin's house for the road. No more than a couple roads down, we stumbled upon the annual and famous Manayunk Bike Race. A grueling 12 mile circuit with a winners purse of $30,000. Bicycles flying by at high speeds.

So we passed the police line and joined in.

The crowd on both sides of the track roared and applauded us as we grinned stupidly and trucked on. Josh went for a high-five. Missed. You would've thought the guy going for the high-five had lost his wallet. The look of dissapointment on his face was palpable.

A few missed turns later and a journey through the absolutely wasted crowd, we found Josh's favorite restaurant in town: The Couch Tomato Cafe. We walked in to find the hostess making out with some old guy, so we went upstairs. Sitting down, the same old guy was making moves on our waitress. She escaped... barely.

We munched down soups and salads and downed it all with a beer. So long civilized life. You won't be missed.

Directly down the street from the cafe, the Schuylkill River Bike Path took us six miles through beautiful streaming waves of green. The crowd's yelling, airhorns, and alcohol addled stupidity left behind. Families, other bikers, runners, and people of all ages enjoyed the 80* weather with cloudless skies and burning sun.

Biking on one of the many downhills, two beavers ran across the street and under a house. Motioning the boys to follow, we investigated a boarded up house with an old, ancient maple tree in the backyard. A river quietly stirred beneath it, the two in synchrony.

Down the road, the town of Ambler greeted our weary souls with (what else) a cold Coke with free refills. The beverage of the Gods.

Eventually, the first day wore on us and not far from Manayunk, we've settle for the evening. Bodies are tired, spirits are high.

Peace from ya boys.