A Bullet Train to Drunkingham.
The Mafia of Minneapolis did it again. The tenth annual 2007 Homie Fall Fest is in the bag, and there are battle scars to prove it. Upon waking up, the first thing that crossed my mind this morning was a new found understanding and appreciation for the scene in Rush Hour when Chris Tucker exclaimed "Which one of yall hit me?"
In the midst of nearly 300 witnesses, someone threw me down the stairs into a kiddie pool of booze.
Or so I felt at the end of the weekend.
Sit back to soak up the images, and know that they only begin to tell a small part of the story that was the weekend of the damned.
(One) The OneonOne shop cat has three legs, two crossed eyes, and a billion pounds of cute.
(Two) For every pound of cute the previously mentioned fuzzy buddy has, there is a bike in the basement.
(Three) Regardless of that fact, I was still loaned one of only a handful of bikes Ive ever had the honor to help construct. GenO was fairly certain that there stood a good chance that this custom steed wasnt going to be returned in as good of shape as it was when it left, but who am I to argue with the boss?
(Four) Friday found a partial set of the West Coasters getting cultured at The Walker Museum of Fine Art.
(Five) After two hours of art gazing, we spied what would ultimately be the grandest heist of our art thieving careers. Sadly the army of 20-something art student museum security took notice of our plan and put the kibosh on our scheme faster than you can say "Acme brand dynamite".
(Six) Despondently empty handed, we returned to the shop to catch up on high fives and hugs with other dirtbags as they trickled into the fold.
(Seven) Eventually, Mini-Me arrived on the scene with his shot glass, which we began partaking from with Viking-like fervor.
(Eight) Many bars, and many crashes later, we ended up in the loving arms of White Castle where Zito got locked inside the TV monitor.
(Nine) Once we arrived home and embarked on a devastatingly refreshing four hours of sleep, we returned to Liquor Lyles to eat breakfast, destroy the bathroom, and register for the days events.
(Ten) After engaging in a couple of magnificent derbies, (the second of which resulted in an explosion of forces between Hurl and myself, and left me with what for all intent and purposes, might very well be a broken rib), we continued on into the trails.
(Eleven) This here is the lovely and talented Emily eating a pound of that which cant be mentioned.Youll be glad to know that despite every effort on her part, she remains lovely and talented, not to mention healthy, just with a bit less blood in her body than she had before.
And it should also be noted that unless I am mistaken, I was the 666th viewer of the video today.
(Twelve) Carnage abounded, and with the exception of Emilys contribution, everyone came out relatively unscathed.
(Thirteen) The sights of the event were not unlike that of an exodus from a war torn land.
(Fourteen) As the sun set, things got ugly.
(Fifteen) Earlier in the day, as a gold SUV attempted to break our stride, and actually hit one of our soldiers, Hewhowillremainunnamed presented the driver with a shirt that simply stated "I tried to run over a cyclist and all I got was a huge dent kicked in the side of my vehicle and the hat stolen off of my head."
This is his hat.
(Sixteen) As the glow of the fire subsided, we began to pack our weary and weathered souls back to the safe confines of various sidewalks, thicket clusters, beds, floors, and alleyways.
(Seventeen) Waking up the following morning to cheer on the few of us brave enough to engage in the Powderhorn cross race, the trigger finger was feeling a little shaky.
(Eighteen) Packing up and saying our goodbyes to old friends and new, its occurred to me that Im not 24 years old any longer, and no matter how much practice I put into this kind of living, its never going to get any easier. Thats not to say however that at some point next October, on the loamy trails of the Mighty Mississippi, were not going to be back, howling at the moon, swapping clothes, and falling back down those proverbial stairs into that damned kiddie pool.
Comments
Best Homey ever. Let's never do it again ever never.
Maybe one more.
Posted by: Sov | October 25, 2007 10:13 PM
One hell of a good time. Teri and I will be back for many years too come. I didn't get to chat you skunk buds up for too long.....but we came away with lots of bike love.
Minneapolis Rocks!
Peace
Posted by: Squirrel | October 25, 2007 03:22 PM
My liver! My body! My mind! are still stunned! Wait till you see what I have in store for you all next year.
We are recapping tonite at your lovers house (see last picture) over a keg of Homie brew. and again Mr. Stevil.., you are a true wordSmith.
Posted by: cockleburr | October 25, 2007 12:07 AM
Hey you beautiful meatheads
Thanks for coming and visiting our fair city. Next year more peanut butter and bacon donuts and possibly a game of cycle ball.
-Corrosion
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzH0mvr7X2A
Posted by: Tex Larue | October 24, 2007 04:51 PM
I approve of you, Troy.
You and your hundred dollar bills.
Thanks for the Bloodies.
Posted by: JIM | October 24, 2007 03:47 PM
Holey Zombie Jesus. I needs me some Homie action here.
Hope Emily gets some nice damage shots posted sometime. Girl wears her ovaries on the outside, it seems.
Posted by: gimp | October 24, 2007 11:50 AM
By God, I think I feel drunk/er just reading this! Is it even possible to get a contact buzz via the internet?
I have to find a way to boondoggle a trip the the Mini Apple next year.
(Typing all this as Shane McGowan slurs a song in the background... how ironic...)
Posted by: Tim Jackson | October 24, 2007 04:33 AM
Those crashes look... fun.
Looks like a blast all around! Good Job for giving that SUV something to remember you by ;)
Posted by: Matt | October 24, 2007 04:22 AM
more awesome pics on the flickr:
Right here
Posted by: mullah bin makdag | October 24, 2007 01:40 AM
approve me dammitt
Posted by: Troy | October 24, 2007 12:35 AM
Zeke, eric found your bike and simon navigated us home.
Photo 15 is exactly 8:12.
F U Hurl.
Posted by: complayna | October 23, 2007 07:22 PM
Just like the hippies say about the 60's:
Homie Fall Fest... if you can remember it, then you aren't Zeke.
Posted by: Linden | October 23, 2007 05:29 PM
Good to see the mayor's administration is intact.
Posted by: Lunatic Biker | October 23, 2007 03:41 PM
Damn, that looks like a blast! I need to get out to Minneapolis!
Thanks for the post.
Posted by: iconoclasst | October 23, 2007 03:22 PM
I didn't break my hand this year, but I'm pretty sure I broke my liver, and I know for sure I broke my girlfriend's bike.
We should do this every six months.
Posted by: JIM | October 23, 2007 02:57 PM
I’ve been living this event vicariously for several years now and through this laptop feel the love, and a little bit of vomit in my throat. Now complete my virtual journey I’ll step outside and ride my bike into the gutter.
Posted by: cary | October 23, 2007 11:32 AM
well, there was no, greatly anticipated, ending to the argument of who would win in a fight: the mt lion or the alligator. but i think its safe to say the former and the latter both rolled around, showed some teeth, staked what ground they could focus their little eyes onto and eventually embraced in what wasn't exactly mortal combat. it was more like a love dance that ended up with parts of themselves dying.
ah, whatever. tha point is that one can get as long winded as they want but can't do the same justice as being there can.
it was a great time, surely. i'm going to forward a crapload of pics to stevil so anyone who missed it, will know what they will be doing next fall. hopefully we can coordinate a flickr to show you how awesome a time it was.
p.s. hifive to emily who rushed a burley ass section. didn't pull it but the fortitude is strong in your famliy. feel better.
Posted by: mullah bin makdag | October 23, 2007 08:04 AM
last year Emily fell off the ramp on the back dock of One on one friday night and broke her leg.
this year this happens, next year she'll be back, but we might have her ride stoker on a tandem in bubble wrap.
much fun was had by all the Lincoln crew, we'll be back next year fo sure.
thanks for the hospitality Minneapolis, you kick ass!
Posted by: cvo | October 23, 2007 07:52 AM
great Scott you posted that up quick! As a first-timer I was in total awe at the magnitude of the bender y'all can tear through. The camaraderie you share is unmatched though, which is a great thing to have. Now take some of that camaraderie and drink it as a tonic for your livers. Hope that helps...thanks for showing the new guy how its done. I won't soon forget it, unless my therapist succeeds. HW
Posted by: Wood Thrasher | October 23, 2007 04:35 AM
The silver jumpsuit screams "I wish I were Hernandohoot!"
Posted by: Marian | October 23, 2007 04:30 AM
I think I fell in the kiddie pool of booze too.
Got up and fell in it again.
I just rolled in to my pad at 9 PM on Monday night after a "quick" 7 hour drive.
Good times
Not sure where I came up with that red jersey... I do know that I lost a glove, a mini u-lock and at some point my sobriety... didn't get it back until the drive home.
Thanks to the fine folks (Geno?)who found me passed out in the woods, picked me up, put a sweater on me, put me on my bike (lost it too) and lead me back to the comforts of Hurl's. I don't think I would have made it with out them.
Posted by: zekesbiken | October 23, 2007 03:48 AM
A beautiful post, Steve. Just breathtaking. I feel old an worn out just reading it.
Posted by: Snr. Escuela | October 23, 2007 03:38 AM