Oxford life. Thirtysomething challenges. Music leanings. Anything really.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Ridgeway ramblings
I went out riding on the Ridgeway this afternoon, it was a lovely day, and I was happy as a camper surrounded by the rape seed fields. Late Spring is one of my favourite times of year (along with Summer, Winter and Autumn) because the rolling hills are carpeted with a patchwork of vivid yellow. When the sun shines, these solid patches of virbant colour set the landscape alight.
The colours are only around for maybe one or two months at most, and you've got to get out there to appreciate it, or wait another year. I've been a bit slack this year and yesterday was the first immersion in yellow.
Getting gooey about the flowers was not the point though.
While pondering heart rates, difficulties of endurance racing, and how great the ride was, a thump-thump-thump broke my thoughts. I stopped. The noise went. I continued, and passing trees, came across the dying embers of a free party. About 75 people were still around, looking mushed, some dancing, some lolling around.
What a great sight. I hung around for a bit, had a chat to some of the people, and it all looked a great laugh. Banging trance filled the country air: I've always loved this music, it's brainless but it gets at one's primal dance instincts!
It wasn't until I set off that I realised that I first went to a free party in 1990. Ouch, that's fifteen years ago. Most people up on the Ridgeway were maybe three to five years old when that happened.
I have no problem about this ageing thing, in fact, I quite enjoy it. In the bike shop the other week, our 17yr old work-experience boy ripped Ivor and me to pieces as we sang the praises of "classic" indie rock from the early 90s. Stone Roses, Nirvana, Oasis, it all sounded great, but it was pointed out that even that is now old man's music. It's the equivalent of my relationship to Prog Rock, the Commodorres, Leo Sayer. All my favourite bands from my teens are past it and I can't relate so well to their new bands.
I'm no spring chicken, and it's great.
The colours are only around for maybe one or two months at most, and you've got to get out there to appreciate it, or wait another year. I've been a bit slack this year and yesterday was the first immersion in yellow.
Getting gooey about the flowers was not the point though.
While pondering heart rates, difficulties of endurance racing, and how great the ride was, a thump-thump-thump broke my thoughts. I stopped. The noise went. I continued, and passing trees, came across the dying embers of a free party. About 75 people were still around, looking mushed, some dancing, some lolling around.
What a great sight. I hung around for a bit, had a chat to some of the people, and it all looked a great laugh. Banging trance filled the country air: I've always loved this music, it's brainless but it gets at one's primal dance instincts!
It wasn't until I set off that I realised that I first went to a free party in 1990. Ouch, that's fifteen years ago. Most people up on the Ridgeway were maybe three to five years old when that happened.
I have no problem about this ageing thing, in fact, I quite enjoy it. In the bike shop the other week, our 17yr old work-experience boy ripped Ivor and me to pieces as we sang the praises of "classic" indie rock from the early 90s. Stone Roses, Nirvana, Oasis, it all sounded great, but it was pointed out that even that is now old man's music. It's the equivalent of my relationship to Prog Rock, the Commodorres, Leo Sayer. All my favourite bands from my teens are past it and I can't relate so well to their new bands.
I'm no spring chicken, and it's great.
// posted by Andy @ 7:51 am 
