Category: Hong Kong

Q: WHERE DO I PARK? A: OPEN this Google Map

HOW DO I GET TO THE STADIUM? HOW DO I GET AROUND?

If you find yourself asking these questions, let’s thank our local transportation guru Ari Ofsevit for compiling the following info.  Read as much or as little as you want (it gets really fucking detailed down at the bottom, and in the middle, and pretty much everywhere) but definitely read the part about parking for the Friday morning workout at Harvard.  And give yourself LOTS of extra time to get to the stadium.  

Welcome to Boston! Have you been to Boston? If yes, then you know what an easy city we have to navigate. If not, well, get ready.

So you need to get places, right? Right.

Let’s start with =&0=& on Friday morning. It’s pretty centrally located: Boston is small and compact, and at 6 a.m. there shouldn’t be much traffic getting there.   You have options: drive, bike, public transit, by foot.

Really…OPEN this Google Map

* DRIVING / Uber-Lyft-whatever: Put directions in your magic smart phone and it will tell you where to go. (If you’re driving an oversized camper van or something and see a sign that says “CARS ONLY” they are serious. We have a verb for what you will do to your vehicle.) EXPECT THAT THERE IS NO PARKING AT THE STADIUM, so it’s easier to use one of the free options nearby:

BEST PARKING OPTION: Soldiers Field Road has four lots, three small lots accessible from the westbound side only, and a huge lot accessible from both directions. Put in directions for “Christian Herter Park” to get there. It’s about a 10 minute (max) run from there to the Stadium. There’s a route shown from some of the smaller lots but note that this requires crossing Soldiers Field Road, which is a “parkway” with a “35 mph speed limit” where people regularly hit 60. So if you take that route, legal requires me to tell you to be careful crossing! #SafetyThird

Meters don’t come on until 8 a.m., but there are very few spots near the stadium. Your best bet is to park over in Harvard Square, where there is meter parking on most main streets. So as long as you get back to your car by 8:00, you should be fine parking there. It’s about a 10 minute walk to the stadium from Harvard Square.

There are garages in Harvard Square but those cost real money.

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This email serves as a pre-thanks to the two DJ’s who are going to be holding it down for the NPSUMMIT. Number one is local legend Laura Ingles of Boston. Number two is new-kid-on-the-block and Co-Leader of November Project Virginia Beach Barry Clark. Laura will host the rise & shine beatdown inside the Harvard Stadium that will open the weekend early Friday morning and Barry will bring down the house at The Lawn On D Street on Saturday night, which will close the weekend. If you’re thinking, “I don’t know much about all of this that you speak of, this “N..P.. Summit” and I really wish I could click here and find out more details.” I hope that you go back and click there. If you already know what’s up, continue onward/below.

Going back to the very first summit, there was a moment, a time that I can see as clear as if it were this morning, that sticks with me, and I’m brought back into that exact place every single time I hear a certain song. I’ll roll out the moment from Summit 1.0, then give you the song. You can get it on your playlist and listen to it on your way to Boston. Shit, we may even hear a DJ or two mix it into the sets that bookend the gathering. Sound good? Great.

The first NP Summit was held in Edmonton Alberta. What started as Bojan and I trying to take Andrew Ference up on his offer to go to one of his indoor hockey games in Edmonton, became “how many tickets can we get?,” which became, “We have to get all of the Co-Leaders from these 7 tribes to Edmonton for a leadership-summit-thing!” The ball was rolling, plans were in motion. It was December 2013.

Now, December in Edmonton for those of you who have never been, is very dark. The workout starts in the dark, your group photo at the end of the workout takes place in the dark, and you run home in the dark. Even after you’ve had breakfast, it, is, still, dark. December in Edmonton takes a special kind of human to stay positive. Luckily they were all at NP.

The workout that particular Friday morning seemed pretty simple, silly even. We stood at the bottom of a giant sledding hill and we were told to run up it with sleds in our hands, with the idea that once we got to the top all we needed to do was jump on and race down to the bottom to start all over again. Essentially hill repeats made better with no downhill running. In those days of the NP movement it felt like each week we had a new high, a new way of creating, a new buzz, a new breakthrough, and that morning on the hill, in the dark, was no different. You couldn’t see faces, just silhouettes (BM big ups), with eyelashes collecting snow. On our run home, Co-Leaders (Bojan, Laura, DG, Nadim, Jenn, Steve, Danny, Lauren, Jessie, Turbo, Teddy-T, Clayton, and I) fell into a little Indiana Jones chain that snaked its way up and out of the river-valley, a signature geographic feature of the Downtown Edmonton layout.

Now, maybe it was the travel from the day before, the beers the night before, the slim ours of sleep at the hotel, the early wakeup, the run to the hill, the hill repeats, the screaming laughs & shouts of joy, the hugs, the high5’s, or the current run home that created a fatigue wave that was beginning to peak. Laura, holding NPSF strong was sick as a dog, and had this trip been just a hockey game with Bojan and I, she might not even have made it. Though we gave her her own giant room at the Westin like gentlemen, this immediately gave us the brotherly rights to give her tons of shit as “NP royalty” as the unending jokes began flying her way (and still do to this day). But she was fucking sick. And as our respective waves were crashing, it was clear, she had been on low battery since we’d left the hotel 90 minutes before. But her loud stereo fanny-pack was blaring jams to the group as we trotted uphill and without speaking, this was her lifeline to the posse. Maybe she wasn’t able to give a solid FUCK YEAH but the jams couldn’t have been more in the moment.

As I remember it, nobody said a word on that run as we wound our way back up and out of the hills that would eventually leave us at the foot of Downtown. Crunching snow under our feet as our legs took stride landing in time. You could see deep breaths in that sent clouds rolling past each hooded Co-Leader like a steam powered locomotive in the dark. The one with the least chance of speaking was ironically the DJ. As we climbed away from the fresh sledding memory that would stay with us for years to come, a specific song came on. A clap. A strong piano. Almost a gospel hum that fit the mood and the slow trudge of our pace. They say music is the soundtrack to life, but I say music is the garnish for life-cocktails, memory bullets’ gunpowder, (I just made that up and don’t think it makes any sense either, but let’s see if Jon Levitt quotes it on Twitter). The moment was still and dark and quiet as the tune came in, but a few seconds later it had switched into feeling upbeat. Was it getting warmer? Just as the rapper in the song (Slug) busts out the famous line, “I think its great how you USED TO be great!…” I felt more alive than I had all morning.

We were in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, North America, WORLD in the dark. We were at a gathering that was completely made up, with new friends who were on fire and in love with this beautiful community that we all took pride in. We were representing as a tribe of co-leaders. A true posse of NP. We were writing our history and didn’t even know it.

Soon enough we were back to the hotel and began the thawing process in the way-too-nice-of-a-hotel-lobby. We piled our jackets on the ground like we owned the place. The people at the desk smiled and refilled the coffee.

It was -30 degrees that morning at the very first NP Summit. Nadim, Jenn, Andrew and the local tribe have been back to that hill many times since. The song that sticks with me was called “Puppets,” and the group is called Atmosphere. This two-man rap group is from a cold place where people are nice. Kinda like Canada.

In closing: To the DJ’s getting ready to play/spin/jam/flex/work, to the people ready to bounce/train/race/party, and to the Co-Leaders ready to share/exchange/play/dream/influence for a full weekend that we’ll never forget… I can’t fucking wait to see you all on Friday morning at the Harvard Stadium at 6AM.

In my OG sign off, I’ll date myself by saying: The tribe is strong.