Heading out solo from HJ’s I contined with my explorations of the West side. Traveling out Martin Luther King I turned right onto West Grand Blvd and then left onto Toledo, which if you followed the signs would bring you to Toledo Ohio. Ditching onto Vernor I snaked my way down to Patton Park. What drew me there was the watershed topography that rolls on down to the rouge river. Across the park to the Northwest I was drawn accross the open grass discovering Holy Cross Cemetary. The roadway that leads you in and through is simular to a dna strand as it is in the shape of the inner patterns of a Celtic Cross! In all of the cemetarys I have ridden through never will a person find more Catholic Symbolisum. The monumenbts are you unique given the singualr undertone of their combined expression. Check it out.
Riding on the designated only bike trail (oh ya baby) I followed the signs to Lapeer park and what I saw/experienced there was truly beautiful! Near the Southern End of Dearborn more than 1000 people were out enjoying/creating community. Kids on bikes all over the place, riding once again on the non motorized bike path. Numerous Moms with veils and reveils were out walking, working out pushing strollers, talking amongst them selves. Groups of men playing numerous soccer games and even larger groups of men taking in the site of the lady parade! All culture differences aside I wish a T.V. crew was there to catch a glimpse at a part of the city that know one has ever heard and even fewer have ever seen. The total experience was/is community, something that has been lost along the highway of Detroit life, as we continue to commute where fear forced suburban directives allow us to keep burning fossil fuel, hurting our planet more and more. If you have been to Central or Stanley park then you have cought a glimpse of what is right here around our corner. The question is can you leave your judgement and brainwashed cultural prejudicial differences behind so that you can be present to the stream?
On Northwest from there I stumbled on a gang of teenagers vandilizng a once beatufiul and expesive wrought iron trash receptical. I stopped and said hey what the hay? Pushing with boastful words a little I did not budge. I asked them abotu there moms and sister and friends who might need to use the trash can to keep the park clean. A few rumbles later the leader of the group spoke up saying “ok i will fix it tomorrow”, to that i suggested that, “to gain honor in this life is to choose to speak words that were only true”. After a few moments of silence I started to peddle when the same leader shouted “Ya what about you man?” I stopped and turned slowly to all once again and said, “I have been practicing with all heartfelt intent for the past 8 years”.
From there it was onto to Jerry’s place. Been in his family for 60 years. Simple put an excellent place of community were no one is trying to impress, dress or mess with a new guest. Jerry himself served me an ice cold beer and warmly welcomed me with heart felt cheer. All colors all religions all makes. Everyone relaxing i felt right at home! I learned that it is a Ford Rouge Plant hang out full of good cheers. I was happy to tell everyone that in spite of my wife’s pension for German made engineering and in spite of drive train, transmission and hub issues,I was a ford man since 1993! A girl who was a little to fascinated with the tale bought me a drink and slid down three bar stools so that she, “could hear me better”. That was just the time I started to talk about my wife’s garden and the flowers that I, as her worthy gardener, care for. She then comenced to tell me about her gardener of sorts who was notguiding the bloom? i suggested to her that all gardens need a high fence so as to not allow unworthy tresspass and once the bar has been raised then, just maybe then, a worthy gardenr would ask about be invited in?
From there it was a hard fast peddle slap all the way back to Motor City were I ordered up a summer ale and then headed back home to my awaiting garden and Sephera a true fruit of the divine inspiration.
J. Meyers bike explorer